tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55341794318495056942024-02-19T03:18:52.605-08:00Emily's perspectiveEmily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.comBlogger133125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-42099307226851552072014-06-11T05:32:00.001-07:002014-06-11T05:34:26.062-07:00Ain't nobody got time for this<p dir="ltr">Yesterday when my son's father dropped him off in the morning I was in the shower.  The window/vent for the shower opens onto the back porch.  The boys dad decided to have a check in with me and carry on a conversation with me through the window.  Can we say awkward?   I mean, I know he couldn't see anything, but the idea of having a conversation with the man while I'm naked, on the other side of a wall, with an open window, trying to carry on a normal conversation is just weird.  Plain weird.  No offense, but he is one of the LAST people I want to have on my mind when I'm naked.  Seriously........the <b><i>last</i></b>.<br>
Then I had a lot of other things go wrong, be very stressful throughout the day, hell, let's face it...it's been one hell of a week/month/year.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Fast forward to this morning.  I have papers which need the boys dad's signature.  It's very important it gets signed today.  Our case manager left it here so he could sign when he dropped off the boy this morning.  She was supposed to send out an email as a heads up to him, but life and her other clients got in the way.  I'm stepping out of the shower when I hear the boy walking up the walkway saying goodbye to dad.  In my head I'm saying "no no no no no no no no no no no no no!  You're early, no no no no no no no!  I'm naked!  No no no no no no no!  He's saying goodbye outside,  that means there was no email, he's not coming in! No no no no nononononononononononononono!!!!!"</p>
<p dir="ltr">So, being wet and naked (sorry for that, send me a bill for the hot poker- can't guarantee I can afford to reimburse you but I'll try....) I grab a towel, grab the papers and run down the road yelling my head off trying to get his attention.  No such luck, but I did get a few horrified looks from some of the drivers passing by.  Did I mention I live on a very busy road? Smh</p>
<p dir="ltr">So, in the house I trudge, dry off, dress, and go to make the coffee.  I turned the pot on only to realize 10 min later that I forgot one important ingredient.......water! Again- smh.  Seriously, ain't nobody got time for this......I'm ready for this week to be <b><i>OVER!!!!!</i></b></p>
<p dir="ltr">I am so lucky as my grandparents used to say....</p>
Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-65169342249816424362014-01-18T12:45:00.001-08:002014-01-18T12:57:45.817-08:00Husband Wanted<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-H_CLsg2mm-g/Utrn7YBxAjI/AAAAAAAADjU/dLokxxSTLMc/s640/blogger-image-684028940.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-H_CLsg2mm-g/Utrn7YBxAjI/AAAAAAAADjU/dLokxxSTLMc/s640/blogger-image-684028940.jpg"></a></div></div>Yes, yes....desperate times call for desperate measures. <div>I just finished shoveling the walks and most of the driveway ( I have hopes that my plow man will take care of the end after the storm dies down and the city plow guys have their wicked way with the end of my driveway) and I've had it. </div><div><br></div><div>There are many reasons I would like a husband....someone to share all of life's moments with, you know....the joys, the heartbreaks, the laughter, the tears, the silly, and quiet moments which make a life full and rich. I want someone who shares my faith in GOD and a sense of spirituality, and yes....I want someone who enjoys sex...a lot!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-llWdoKq9sr0/Utrn9dOU_KI/AAAAAAAADjc/R9dLHW1g0so/s640/blogger-image--1218911974.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-llWdoKq9sr0/Utrn9dOU_KI/AAAAAAAADjc/R9dLHW1g0so/s640/blogger-image--1218911974.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I want someone who is hard working, has a job they enjoy and a car. Must have a car of their own. Must be honest, trustworthy, compassionate, funny, NOT MARRIED (this is definitely the biggest deal breaker), loves to kiss and spend time together, but is confident and enjoys some time apart once in a while. You must love children, and have extra patience as mine has some special needs...although he more than makes up for any added struggles with his awesomeness. You must be able to shovel and mow a lawn. </div><div><br></div><div>I am a 40 year old woman and am interested in finding someone somewhat close in age. I'm not real comfortable with someone a lot younger, so I'd say- 40-50 years of age would be fine?</div><div><br></div><div>You need to be able to accept me as I am, as I will you, while we also push each other to be the best version of ourselves. </div><div><br></div><div>In return you will receive everything I am expecting in return and more. </div><div><br></div><div>If this sounds like you, or like someone you know...leave me a comment, send me a Facebook message and I will let you know where to send your resume and photo. </div><div><br></div><div>***<i>addendum: terms subject to change without warning and others added when I want to</i>***</div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-72923602349508781752013-12-30T07:39:00.001-08:002013-12-30T15:28:28.642-08:0020 New Year Resolutions for 2014I have always tried to set the bar really low as far as resolutions go...I mean REALLY low....as in none. I figure, I'm not really going to stick with them anyway, so why bother. (Way to be proactive and not set myself up for failure! Go me!)<div><br></div><div>This year is different. With the one year anniversary of my divorce coming up in a few days (January 4- but who's keeping tabs? Not me), I feel it is the right time to make some changes in my life. Some of these I am already doing to an extent, I just want to do more, others I'm no so good at and want to get better. Here we go!</div><div><br></div><div>1. I resolve to spend more time with family, not just my immediate family, but extended family as well....we talk about it, but do we really work on making it happen? This week has shown me how important it is to <i style="font-weight: bold;">MAKE it happen</i>!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Qd2oaurH-BY/UsGTbPlz-aI/AAAAAAAADYw/8nOxBt5brq4/s640/blogger-image-517963446.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Qd2oaurH-BY/UsGTbPlz-aI/AAAAAAAADYw/8nOxBt5brq4/s640/blogger-image-517963446.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-KV_5dSfyk_o/UsGQe6TRV7I/AAAAAAAADXk/wLwtzc7RRDg/s640/blogger-image-1811320157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-KV_5dSfyk_o/UsGQe6TRV7I/AAAAAAAADXk/wLwtzc7RRDg/s640/blogger-image-1811320157.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-OI3Jy_moJFE/UsGTXEAcWnI/AAAAAAAADYg/AuX-0N7iW5k/s640/blogger-image--2089695185.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-OI3Jy_moJFE/UsGTXEAcWnI/AAAAAAAADYg/AuX-0N7iW5k/s640/blogger-image--2089695185.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Fv7-ZVX4wHE/UsGeSC0GuEI/AAAAAAAADcA/qHu0NpmP8nc/s640/blogger-image-261008320.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Fv7-ZVX4wHE/UsGeSC0GuEI/AAAAAAAADcA/qHu0NpmP8nc/s640/blogger-image-261008320.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>2. I resolve to play more. My son and I play, but I need more of that in my life, and so does he. I want to play games, do puzzles, run around outside playing hide-n-seek, tag, water gun fights (and hey, all that -at least the outside stuff- qualifies as exercise right? Good, don't even have to put that on the list!)</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-lB9PrFJBRBE/UsGTVHC_37I/AAAAAAAADYY/9y4FeKfnKLE/s640/blogger-image--669507705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-lB9PrFJBRBE/UsGTVHC_37I/AAAAAAAADYY/9y4FeKfnKLE/s640/blogger-image--669507705.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-cydBbLFXCyw/UsGTikXm5mI/AAAAAAAADZQ/cXaW9YH4pW8/s640/blogger-image--122173583.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-cydBbLFXCyw/UsGTikXm5mI/AAAAAAAADZQ/cXaW9YH4pW8/s640/blogger-image--122173583.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-RCzl9Mbhya8/UsGd3a1NqQI/AAAAAAAADaY/GxsgVYIQFfg/s640/blogger-image-645716224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-RCzl9Mbhya8/UsGd3a1NqQI/AAAAAAAADaY/GxsgVYIQFfg/s640/blogger-image-645716224.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XO_ow9pMMPE/UsGeP3xiveI/AAAAAAAADb4/9u9503TjUhs/s640/blogger-image-2024326218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XO_ow9pMMPE/UsGeP3xiveI/AAAAAAAADb4/9u9503TjUhs/s640/blogger-image-2024326218.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>3. I resolve to play in the snow this winter- apparently, I picked a good winter for this. I will have snowball fights and built forts, and I will make a snow angel this year! Even if it kills me. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-hgBEx88E2o4/UsGQXdL1_FI/AAAAAAAADXE/mb-7eXqmv20/s640/blogger-image-1853461050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-hgBEx88E2o4/UsGQXdL1_FI/AAAAAAAADXE/mb-7eXqmv20/s640/blogger-image-1853461050.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-wL2lqyGfnSM/UsGTqQKilPI/AAAAAAAADZw/aBlADg5nk8g/s640/blogger-image--665739051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-wL2lqyGfnSM/UsGTqQKilPI/AAAAAAAADZw/aBlADg5nk8g/s640/blogger-image--665739051.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-nnazKShX6AI/UsGTPDyb4fI/AAAAAAAADYA/V9qjOv2LXA4/s640/blogger-image--726602652.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-nnazKShX6AI/UsGTPDyb4fI/AAAAAAAADYA/V9qjOv2LXA4/s640/blogger-image--726602652.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/--_IXKas_vxg/UsGTmLqQnSI/AAAAAAAADZg/dkVTDZvLa8w/s640/blogger-image-1459085343.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/--_IXKas_vxg/UsGTmLqQnSI/AAAAAAAADZg/dkVTDZvLa8w/s640/blogger-image-1459085343.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>4. I resolve to be near the water and collect seaweed with my son at the beach, and shells</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-UyDub4Z5qdI/UsGQR3-RS5I/AAAAAAAADWs/aAHUNI1J0IQ/s640/blogger-image-1421654561.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-UyDub4Z5qdI/UsGQR3-RS5I/AAAAAAAADWs/aAHUNI1J0IQ/s640/blogger-image-1421654561.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-jBzJEN5SI1c/UsGQUEajnmI/AAAAAAAADW0/nocLiOcgBtg/s640/blogger-image--1806981054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-jBzJEN5SI1c/UsGQUEajnmI/AAAAAAAADW0/nocLiOcgBtg/s640/blogger-image--1806981054.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-CgbzZX314qg/UsGeWEkoy5I/AAAAAAAADcQ/3LMLO7_xfRk/s640/blogger-image-226344790.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-CgbzZX314qg/UsGeWEkoy5I/AAAAAAAADcQ/3LMLO7_xfRk/s640/blogger-image-226344790.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>5. I resolve to laugh more. Laughing can make the whole world better. It can turn a tragic, heartbreaking moment into something bearable, it can lift your own spirits as well as those around you. </div><div><br></div><div>6. I resolve to be silly. (Kinda goes hand in hand with the last one). Silliness brings out the joy in your heart for everyone to see, it keeps people "out of their heads" for a time, it makes the heavy hearted smile- or shake their heads in confusion. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-2cy8j0Y8xKI/UsGTNGCrSoI/AAAAAAAADX4/NTT6EBY-dsg/s640/blogger-image-392233913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-2cy8j0Y8xKI/UsGTNGCrSoI/AAAAAAAADX4/NTT6EBY-dsg/s640/blogger-image-392233913.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-y6mG3HZekec/UsGQQf9eA5I/AAAAAAAADWk/y4nbKShp0KA/s640/blogger-image--56371643.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-y6mG3HZekec/UsGQQf9eA5I/AAAAAAAADWk/y4nbKShp0KA/s640/blogger-image--56371643.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>7. I resolve to find the absurd and ridiculous wherever I can find it. It is all around us if we would only open our eyes and see it for what it is....</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KFZtF3wwDME/UsGTLFlxKyI/AAAAAAAADXw/2W9NjYnS7Zc/s640/blogger-image--814623083.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KFZtF3wwDME/UsGTLFlxKyI/AAAAAAAADXw/2W9NjYnS7Zc/s640/blogger-image--814623083.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-n-DvqUoDGk8/UsGQOlzyGrI/AAAAAAAADWc/VoQX57JCQtg/s640/blogger-image-170342803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-n-DvqUoDGk8/UsGQOlzyGrI/AAAAAAAADWc/VoQX57JCQtg/s640/blogger-image-170342803.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>8. I resolve to create. I sometimes lose my way and forget what a joy it is to create things for others. I won't lose that this year. This includes singing and making music. I find I miss singing so much at times. I need to find a way to bring more music into my life. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ygxmlLugu4o/UsGQbP52UDI/AAAAAAAADXU/QwGIFWiBKWM/s640/blogger-image-286399554.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ygxmlLugu4o/UsGQbP52UDI/AAAAAAAADXU/QwGIFWiBKWM/s640/blogger-image-286399554.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-RSsflzQvK7g/UsGQZVrP3SI/AAAAAAAADXM/v8hkm0X_2RE/s640/blogger-image--1901616777.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-RSsflzQvK7g/UsGQZVrP3SI/AAAAAAAADXM/v8hkm0X_2RE/s640/blogger-image--1901616777.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-exrGOJxmztA/UsGTZGZFnSI/AAAAAAAADYo/iAGq-Zdfz6c/s640/blogger-image-550742339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-exrGOJxmztA/UsGTZGZFnSI/AAAAAAAADYo/iAGq-Zdfz6c/s640/blogger-image-550742339.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-F2jaGOEUY80/UsGTRFM7W4I/AAAAAAAADYI/KZa8J9WJKp4/s640/blogger-image-401956622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-F2jaGOEUY80/UsGTRFM7W4I/AAAAAAAADYI/KZa8J9WJKp4/s640/blogger-image-401956622.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>9. I resolve to not care what others opinions of me are. This is one I've been working on for a while. I've come a LONG way, but I've got more work to do. Your opinion of me is <i style="font-weight: bold;">NOT</i> my business.</div><div><br></div><div>10. Along the same lines as number 9, I resolve to take care of me- including setting (and sticking to) the boundaries that I need to take care of myself and my son. I don't make decisions out of anger and spite to hurt others, if you don't like my boundaries that is too bad, I'm doing what I need to do for my own physical, mental and emotional health as well as that of my sons. It's not about you- it's about me. </div><div><br></div><div>11. I resolve to take time to take care of me, and my son. To paint our nails if that is our want, to dress up in silly outfits and parade around town or to snuggle in the bean bag chair and watch an episode of <i>Too Cute</i> if that is our whimsy, or apply a terrifying facial mask I desired. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-C5egiZD0Txo/UsGQVxr-LDI/AAAAAAAADW8/tTXSkNmPreg/s640/blogger-image-283526595.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-C5egiZD0Txo/UsGQVxr-LDI/AAAAAAAADW8/tTXSkNmPreg/s640/blogger-image-283526595.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>12. I resolve to open myself to the possibility of love this year. This doesn't mean that I haven't been open to it before now, however, I feel more ready than ever before to the possibilities of what might be meant for me. I know what I've had, I know what I'm worth, and I know how much more I deserve than what I've gotten in the past. I also know how much more I need to put into a relationship than I have in the past. Whatever will be, will be......but I'm ready for it!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWs3tBfRyavhSxPynCZnVRK-R2UV3taHiJdikSSXj1fPKF5ihebcsT9m-nhW1F1RD6A_QQsbzsVHwPVvWDapr2pz0BwrJevIgVMN7FvStO4cUxGiNJzJ_oAW3F-fkJHwd_ow5kSzURGdE/s640/blogger-image-772255044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWs3tBfRyavhSxPynCZnVRK-R2UV3taHiJdikSSXj1fPKF5ihebcsT9m-nhW1F1RD6A_QQsbzsVHwPVvWDapr2pz0BwrJevIgVMN7FvStO4cUxGiNJzJ_oAW3F-fkJHwd_ow5kSzURGdE/s640/blogger-image-772255044.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjJyGopf1TKBjmMUsX1Id4qk30RnU3HSfGFOYfzXP8LaZ9Nmei9EvJU9YVmqLp4sTfVJxEH8ThjbF9GpAiSs0x68BjW-UkpZzRWZU9MMfN-o-ZLljsGSJAT93izFdW7Hpy7hrazCGNC7c/s640/blogger-image-60237677.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjJyGopf1TKBjmMUsX1Id4qk30RnU3HSfGFOYfzXP8LaZ9Nmei9EvJU9YVmqLp4sTfVJxEH8ThjbF9GpAiSs0x68BjW-UkpZzRWZU9MMfN-o-ZLljsGSJAT93izFdW7Hpy7hrazCGNC7c/s640/blogger-image-60237677.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Could this be the year????</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-q8Uj6XQdZc4/UsGQdNCgc6I/AAAAAAAADXc/TB0tBfJujXQ/s640/blogger-image--1797113334.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-q8Uj6XQdZc4/UsGQdNCgc6I/AAAAAAAADXc/TB0tBfJujXQ/s640/blogger-image--1797113334.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Sweet!!!!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Nr85pxn86U4/UsGd7r21mHI/AAAAAAAADao/-wEACzd91UU/s640/blogger-image--1345290193.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Nr85pxn86U4/UsGd7r21mHI/AAAAAAAADao/-wEACzd91UU/s640/blogger-image--1345290193.jpg"></a></div>A girl can dream.....can't she?</div><div><br></div><div>13. I resolve to spend more time with friends. I find that time has flown by this year, and much of it was spent without seeing friends and loved ones. Life is too short, and the people I choose to call friend are too important to not make time for. </div><div><br></div><div>14. I resolve to try and keep the damn fish alive in this aquarium. Is that really so hard? 2013 has <b>NOT </b>been a good year for fish in this household. We have killed no less than 14 fish since July. (None were on purpose!!). I am truly commited to owning some fish that will live to ripe old fish age that we can enjoy and add in commentary while watching and giggling. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmrKTHI_vhl2t3fHZeFvfksbaZgnfOAiBkHbONfVeH7MuiSaMRidMECz5Iu_Gf708MyJLrn2NHuYLUD9ulmK6Nwz6LvI2K9jazWYv2-PvQTEjtrnPw8SnAuNGVDeQR7Ld_q3lm4bwBHRg/s640/blogger-image--2028796308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmrKTHI_vhl2t3fHZeFvfksbaZgnfOAiBkHbONfVeH7MuiSaMRidMECz5Iu_Gf708MyJLrn2NHuYLUD9ulmK6Nwz6LvI2K9jazWYv2-PvQTEjtrnPw8SnAuNGVDeQR7Ld_q3lm4bwBHRg/s640/blogger-image--2028796308.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>15. I resolve to take more pictures of my loved ones. I would love to get a great camera, but for now my phone will have to do. It definitely does the job most of the time, so I can't really complain!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-wf9NzPCNjdU/UsGTS5jbcUI/AAAAAAAADYQ/RVpP1Kn3twE/s640/blogger-image-1300896433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-wf9NzPCNjdU/UsGTS5jbcUI/AAAAAAAADYQ/RVpP1Kn3twE/s640/blogger-image-1300896433.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>16. I resolve to make popcorn often and watch tv and/or movies with Will (and anyone else who wants to join in)</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-eFpFU_-UNG8/UsGeBhoLOnI/AAAAAAAADbA/KRVkQoGULI8/s640/blogger-image-693439566.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-eFpFU_-UNG8/UsGeBhoLOnI/AAAAAAAADbA/KRVkQoGULI8/s640/blogger-image-693439566.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-HcDMKKeejfM/UsGeDWLtPyI/AAAAAAAADbI/lWS3sSU499U/s640/blogger-image--1306758053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-HcDMKKeejfM/UsGeDWLtPyI/AAAAAAAADbI/lWS3sSU499U/s640/blogger-image--1306758053.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>17. I resolve to try to get some much needed rest this year. I need sleep people! If it isn't one thing it's another, work, my son, MS, squirrels.......those damn squirrels....I'll get you my irritants! I it's the last thing I do!!!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-p38eqbq7Dwg/UsGToVvTLoI/AAAAAAAADZo/iGrhK0LJ5Ws/s640/blogger-image-785651917.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-p38eqbq7Dwg/UsGToVvTLoI/AAAAAAAADZo/iGrhK0LJ5Ws/s640/blogger-image-785651917.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-P_KrMy2Ncq0/UsGTc9T7ygI/AAAAAAAADY4/TwhZMdQQHW4/s640/blogger-image--505638151.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-P_KrMy2Ncq0/UsGTc9T7ygI/AAAAAAAADY4/TwhZMdQQHW4/s640/blogger-image--505638151.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jBkwC7pyaTQ/UsGeJN0BPbI/AAAAAAAADbg/RPFHzJrYaok/s640/blogger-image-1143476536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jBkwC7pyaTQ/UsGeJN0BPbI/AAAAAAAADbg/RPFHzJrYaok/s640/blogger-image-1143476536.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-MBd_uXUz28g/UsGdzAPv4KI/AAAAAAAADaI/v4EicQLP0Ig/s640/blogger-image--1712349804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-MBd_uXUz28g/UsGdzAPv4KI/AAAAAAAADaI/v4EicQLP0Ig/s640/blogger-image--1712349804.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5uWhiiKHaU0/UsGeHbUML0I/AAAAAAAADbY/71DCNyWBr1c/s640/blogger-image--2105851503.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5uWhiiKHaU0/UsGeHbUML0I/AAAAAAAADbY/71DCNyWBr1c/s640/blogger-image--2105851503.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>If only I could sleep the sleep of a child...</div><div><br></div><div>18. I resolve to believe....</div><div><br></div><div>I will believe that all things are possible. I believe in Christmas, and Santa Claus </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-SMSeXlVK2L4/UsGd9iBIWwI/AAAAAAAADaw/PgFS8ACYg08/s640/blogger-image-1542251518.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-SMSeXlVK2L4/UsGd9iBIWwI/AAAAAAAADaw/PgFS8ACYg08/s640/blogger-image-1542251518.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-VCtOQsdY4JM/UsGd5g3UEhI/AAAAAAAADag/H2tD8X1dU08/s640/blogger-image--505783347.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-VCtOQsdY4JM/UsGd5g3UEhI/AAAAAAAADag/H2tD8X1dU08/s640/blogger-image--505783347.jpg"></a></div>I believe in elves</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-F2TfSqBOXfw/UsGeUNWNkAI/AAAAAAAADcI/W5TbmROPG3Q/s640/blogger-image-318224742.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-F2TfSqBOXfw/UsGeUNWNkAI/AAAAAAAADcI/W5TbmROPG3Q/s640/blogger-image-318224742.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I believe in fairies..... I do believe in fairies, I do, I do, I do believe in fairies</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-b7cJ7jTynzw/UsGeFIZQ3uI/AAAAAAAADbQ/sjxQ917s5_k/s640/blogger-image--617640725.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-b7cJ7jTynzw/UsGeFIZQ3uI/AAAAAAAADbQ/sjxQ917s5_k/s640/blogger-image--617640725.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Q3iNvXJHEgk/UsGdw3cfojI/AAAAAAAADaA/HLghFKss7DA/s640/blogger-image-913657329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Q3iNvXJHEgk/UsGdw3cfojI/AAAAAAAADaA/HLghFKss7DA/s640/blogger-image-913657329.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I do believe in angels. There are angels that walk among us, and some who watch over us from above......</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-3yBQDRl8yP8/UsGeLdcDG4I/AAAAAAAADbo/nd3KOwVYI7w/s640/blogger-image-1598230035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-3yBQDRl8yP8/UsGeLdcDG4I/AAAAAAAADbo/nd3KOwVYI7w/s640/blogger-image-1598230035.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-yRWv0Lo4P3BGwsDpfOsuH_FqnLM6QD7oGkvTkGP0fBXBlNrlwoZn4p16VY4NA3gsLvuOPMGrJd35U4tBbDa3eIfQNjHRHroJC0fdP_eR1HwpD15b-AdLbmKATLeOKCXKg3rYPLOMu0E/s640/blogger-image-20157972.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-yRWv0Lo4P3BGwsDpfOsuH_FqnLM6QD7oGkvTkGP0fBXBlNrlwoZn4p16VY4NA3gsLvuOPMGrJd35U4tBbDa3eIfQNjHRHroJC0fdP_eR1HwpD15b-AdLbmKATLeOKCXKg3rYPLOMu0E/s640/blogger-image-20157972.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-XcZQPI6EuCw/UsGd1MBKT0I/AAAAAAAADaQ/hCoUZp_q4q0/s640/blogger-image-661313694.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-XcZQPI6EuCw/UsGd1MBKT0I/AAAAAAAADaQ/hCoUZp_q4q0/s640/blogger-image-661313694.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>And I do believe in love</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-um8ihm11wM8/UsGd_Rf50uI/AAAAAAAADa4/gfDUV8p_YzM/s640/blogger-image-1448507166.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-um8ihm11wM8/UsGd_Rf50uI/AAAAAAAADa4/gfDUV8p_YzM/s640/blogger-image-1448507166.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>19. I resolve to not set limits on the endless possibilities that are open to me and my son. I will be open to new, exciting, scary, sorrowful moments in my life and will not deny the experiences out of fear of the unknown, potential heart ache, and hurt which may or may not happen as a result. </div><div><br></div><div>20. I resolve to get some sleep....and sleep naked whenever I can. Sorry mom, I know that's more TMI than you ever needed....</div><div><br></div><div>Happy New Year, and here's to 2014 being a much better year!</div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-46921195685069909662013-12-22T10:00:00.001-08:002013-12-22T10:00:53.586-08:00Be careful what you wish for...I have learned throughout my life about the importance of thought. The law of attraction. What you put out into the world is what you get back. <div>I have also learned about manifesting what you want in your life. Part of that is being clear in your intentions. I remember saying I wanted a man in my life for companionship. What I got was a hodge podge of good men (and a couple of crazies, but who's counting!) but so NOT what I needed from any of them. I had not been clear in my intention. I was not clear in telling the universe what I really wanted to manifest. I need to be clear....I want a man who has a job, who has a car, he is caring, loving, romantic, not clingy or needy. He loves children and is patient. Ok, so now that's out of the way ;-)</div><div>Last night my middle aged body was feeling particularly creeky and I went to sleep wanting to manifest feeling younger. To be clear- what I meant was to not feel so creeky, achy and sore. I wanted to be able to sit on the floor cross-legged and be able to get up without making the noises my grandparents used to make when standing....</div><div>What I got.....a face full of acne. </div><div><br></div><div>Please, be careful what you manifest and be as clear as you are able so you don't end up like me.....a creeky middle aged woman with a 15 year old acne covered face. </div><div><br></div><div>This has been a public service announcement. </div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-68533999777821491362013-12-20T11:43:00.001-08:002013-12-20T11:43:58.078-08:00I'm sick of marriage proposals that go no whereI spent a large chunk of my morning this past Sunday and again on Tuesday night/Wednesday morning shoveling out my driveway. I don't have a large driveway, but it is on the wide side, and I seem to live in a vortex. <div><br></div><div>When I woke up Sunday morning I looked outside and the first thing I saw was the neighbors yard (I was upstairs in my room and that was the first sight). I was heartened to notice there wasn't as much snow as predicted. Then I went downstairs, suited up and couldn't open my door without considerable effort because of the amount of snow pressed against my door. What? I looked to my neighbors yard, I looked at the end of their driveway, didn't look bad....why was there almost twice as much in my yard?? My only guess is the wind, the wind decided my neighbors weren't as welcoming of large amounts of snow as my yard. I have decided the wind is not my friend, it didn't consult me and my desire for the majority of the snow in the neighborhood...</div><div><br></div><div>So, I have spent a large amount of my time and energy shoveling this week, and while out there you want to know what I was thinking? Well, when I wasn't cursing the city plow trucks (again, I got the lucky draw of getting the lions share of snow dumped at the end of my driveway) I was quietly....ok, maybe not so quietly fuming that I have had 2 men talk about marrying me in the last month and yet, neither one of them showed up to pick up a shovel. </div><div><br></div><div>Listen up, to <i style="font-weight: bold;">ALL</i> men who might be interested in marrying me now and in the future...you want my hand....give me yours first and I'll put a shovel in it, then we will consider putting a ring on it! </div><div><br></div><div>That is all.</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-9Bq1qrhM12w/UrSd_PNroSI/AAAAAAAADVs/v7RzubYZnK8/s640/blogger-image-628341332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-9Bq1qrhM12w/UrSd_PNroSI/AAAAAAAADVs/v7RzubYZnK8/s640/blogger-image-628341332.jpg"></a></div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-5760245645917490672013-10-26T06:00:00.001-07:002013-10-26T06:00:49.536-07:00Hair stylesMy son decided he wanted to get his hair cut. <div><br></div><div>This is a big deal in my house because the sensory input from a haircut is usually too much for him to deal with, and there is the fact that half the time he says he's a girl and therefore wants long hair....</div><div><br></div><div>Anyway, he decided he wanted his hair cut like one of his favorite soccer players- Cristiano Reynaldo. Here is the picture he found to show the hair stylist: </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xvWrGXx3OA4/Umu8_AbHx9I/AAAAAAAADFY/qx6guaP5BfE/s640/blogger-image-1398437903.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xvWrGXx3OA4/Umu8_AbHx9I/AAAAAAAADFY/qx6guaP5BfE/s640/blogger-image-1398437903.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Is it wrong therefore that I found a better picture to look at?</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-UEmBSfy3ZdY/Umu8_6XOpWI/AAAAAAAADFg/NUWl9ZzJdY4/s640/blogger-image-629259980.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-UEmBSfy3ZdY/Umu8_6XOpWI/AAAAAAAADFg/NUWl9ZzJdY4/s640/blogger-image-629259980.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Much better......</div><div><br></div><div>So, in we went to Snip-It's with pictures in hand. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-qnrdWUZZxEQ/Umu8-Kf4TCI/AAAAAAAADFQ/RbvINIbZi-M/s640/blogger-image-1071925060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-qnrdWUZZxEQ/Umu8-Kf4TCI/AAAAAAAADFQ/RbvINIbZi-M/s640/blogger-image-1071925060.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>When all was said and done, it looked great, the styling was a little different, but he decided that he was a cross between Reynaldo and another favorite of his Messi. He calls himself Messinaldo. I think it works!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3oi80xxSL2Q/Umu88Gtv68I/AAAAAAAADFA/-VGzoacY3Kc/s640/blogger-image-1538994157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3oi80xxSL2Q/Umu88Gtv68I/AAAAAAAADFA/-VGzoacY3Kc/s640/blogger-image-1538994157.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I am still keeping this picture though..... just sayin...</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-KbskHxRHcfs/Umu89UWb7EI/AAAAAAAADFI/abMt60rxllk/s640/blogger-image--605878087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-KbskHxRHcfs/Umu89UWb7EI/AAAAAAAADFI/abMt60rxllk/s640/blogger-image--605878087.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-12132671921218649712013-10-25T08:26:00.001-07:002013-10-25T08:26:19.538-07:00Hats<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>I am in the process of making hats and scarves for Christmas. I was excited to find a new pattern for a cute hat. Unfortunately, my first attempt was made while teaching someone how to crochet, and therefore I was not paying attention to the pattern. I made assumptions which were incorrect, so my hat didn't come out as planned. I'm also pretty sure I'm not giving it to anyone as a present. Why do you ask? Could it really have turned out <i style="font-weight: bold;">that</i> badly? Well......I'll let you be the judge:<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-CQLIsF4sxoQ/UmqNmFzHI0I/AAAAAAAADEw/B1Y-1I67_pk/s640/blogger-image--1909206692.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-CQLIsF4sxoQ/UmqNmFzHI0I/AAAAAAAADEw/B1Y-1I67_pk/s640/blogger-image--1909206692.jpg"></a></div>Yup, that's right...I made a nipple hat. It looks like a large boob with a very large nipple. </div><div><br></div><div>I showed it to a coworker and her response after she stopped laughing was to add a pompom or tassel to the top. I can't bring myself to do that. Why not? Because all I can think of is that I would be adding a pastie. Although I guess I could make another nipple hat, add tassels to them both, grab a friend and we could be <b>stripper boobs</b> for Halloween. I mean, we could even practice the whole twirling the tassels in opposite directions....isn't that supposed to be a special talent? </div><div><br></div><div>Anyway, in case you were wondering, actually wearing the hat doesn't help. Here is my son wearing the famous nipple hat.....heaven help me! At least the others turned out great- of course I went back and re-read the pattern. That helped a lot. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-COQ4-lJ0-Vk/UmqNksrJQ9I/AAAAAAAADEo/wjGzL6DrsDk/s640/blogger-image-77559394.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-COQ4-lJ0-Vk/UmqNksrJQ9I/AAAAAAAADEo/wjGzL6DrsDk/s640/blogger-image-77559394.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-47945594838761563932013-09-30T06:17:00.001-07:002013-09-30T13:23:06.776-07:00Rice Sock to the Rescue!I have lived in my house for over 12 years. The first 9 years were with my husband before he left, the last 11 with my beautiful son. Throughout all that time I have never once felt unsafe or scared in my house. I happily sleep alone with nary a care. I could never understand why my ex husband was always so scared at night. I would work late or pick up an overnight shift and find out sometimes years later that he was so scared of the noises of an old house and busy street he would wake our young son up and/or call his mom. I just couldn't relate to the inability to be alone to the degree he lived with every day. Now, it's been 3 years since he left me so I have no idea if he has learned to be at peace alone or not...all I know is that a couple of nights ago I got a taste of being nervous in my house without someone there to protect me....is this how the ex felt every night? <div><br></div><div>I woke at 3:30am, the house was dark, I heard a noise that sounded like someone was in the washing machine or dryer and trying to get out. (Strange I know, but that's what I likened the sound to at the time). The intermittent banging sounding like it was coming from downstairs had my heart pounding in my chest as I lay in bed straining to hear if my attackers were coming closer....how to defend myself and my precious child? I admit it was a terrifying moment. I slowly and as quietly as possible climbed out of bed, grabbed the only weapon (of sorts) at my immediate disposal: my rice sock. I mean, it's heavy so I figure I might be able to knock a burglar out and give me time to call the police right? Hit him just right and I could do some damage with this sucker! It's therapeutic on so many levels....</div><div><br></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fB7duW093F8/Ukl52Jop9LI/AAAAAAAADEM/jSmprFDRt8g/s640/blogger-image-686947289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fB7duW093F8/Ukl52Jop9LI/AAAAAAAADEM/jSmprFDRt8g/s640/blogger-image-686947289.jpg"></a>I crept slowly to my bedroom door, as I approached the top of my stairs I heard the terrifying sound again- it was coming from my open window......from the Hannafords distribution center behind my neighborhood........really? I was scared of trucks being loaded in the distance? I breathed a huge sigh of relief....and went back to bed. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I wasn't really scared........</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">But I sure am glad I had my rice sock.....just sayin....</div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-8393849731369668482013-09-27T09:46:00.001-07:002013-09-27T09:46:17.482-07:00Interesting times....I don't know how funny this post will be, more interesting than anything I guess. I will apologize now if I disappoint you.<div><br></div><div>I use this blog to write about my personal experiences that I find funny/interesting/weird and write about them with my own unique look at them. This blog has been an outlet for me, and while public I find it interesting to learn that certain people read it to "keep tabs on me" </div><div><br></div><div>First I will say, this is <b>MY </b>blog, I can write whatever I want to in it and do not need to explain myself to <i style="font-weight: bold; ">anyone. </i>I don't need to explain timelines which may or may not be accurate depending on when I write immediately or feel the need to ruminate on the subject. </div><div><br></div><div>Second I will say, I find it odd when people walk out of my life why they apparently don't have a life which is fulfilling enough to live without having to know the details of mine. It must be awfully frustrating to know I don't regularly post every detail, although I will admit, you do get about half of the interesting stories.....too bad that I have a mental filter or two and you don't get some of the more interesting details......</div><div>Sorry about that ;)</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-hNU2X_uui4U/UkW2V9exiJI/AAAAAAAADD8/hkzsL1jyu_k/s640/blogger-image-1195708506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-hNU2X_uui4U/UkW2V9exiJI/AAAAAAAADD8/hkzsL1jyu_k/s640/blogger-image-1195708506.jpg"></a></div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-4383962217412380872013-09-02T07:06:00.001-07:002013-09-02T07:06:20.029-07:00How to wake upAs many who know me realizes, I have a problem with fatigue. My energy levels ebb and flow like the tide. I can go from having so much energy that I can accomplish a massive amount in a day or I can lay on the couch for a week and am barely coherent, unable to move or keep my eyes open. <div><br></div><div>The other day I was having a fatigue type of day. I was laying on the couch eyes closed listening to my son play on the computer oohing and ahhing over cute kitty videos. While I was laying there I kept thinking that I needed to find some energy so I could get up and get a few things accomplished including making more pickles (I have a problem, but that's a story for another day) and cook supper for my child. However, my body was saying........the heck with that! (I will admit that my body was saying it in a slightly more profane way) when a bug of undetermined size flew up my nose while inhaling. I have never woken up so quickly and been filled with such energy in the span of only a nanosecond. I spent 5 minutes blowing my nose because I could still feel that bug up there -even though I'm pretty sure it wasn't really there at that point. I sat staring around me wild eyed looking for fruit flies or anything else that might be in my vicinity. I was ready to stop another attack on my nostrils. </div><div><br></div><div>I would love to tell you that with this new found energy I accomplished everything I had been thinking of while laying down unable to open my eyes but I would be lying. While I had energy I was too busy looking for the next surprise attack and wondering what had just happened. Maybe next time I will think to use my newfound energy in a more advantageous way. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-30774597174218933252013-09-02T06:11:00.001-07:002013-09-02T06:11:02.889-07:00Massage vs para massageI've been a licensed massage therapist for several years now. I, and most of my colleagues, work really hard to educate people on the benefits of massage as a legitimate health care option when working towards total body wellness. <div><br></div><div>Lately there have been several places in Maine which have come under scrutiny because of their practices. Some for not operating with a license, or offering "other services" for their patrons. I'm sure you can guess what types of services I'm talking about......</div><div><br></div><div>This type of practice gives those of us who work hard and are ethical and professional a bad name. A friend of mine who is an amazing therapist has even talked about giving her practice up because of all the gossip, innuendo and looks she sees and hears while out and about in her town. </div><div><br></div><div>This is down right disgraceful if you ask me. But this isn't even the main topic for my blog today....the main topic is para massage. What is paramassage you might ask? Well, according to Scarborough's town ordinance it is defined as: </div><div><br></div><div> <span style="font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 12pt; ">Any method of rubbing, kneading, tapping, vibration, compression, percussion,
application of friction or manipulation of the external parts of the human body with the
hands or other parts of the body or with the aid of any instrument or device, and which is
not massage therapy.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 12pt; "><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 12pt; ">And a paramassage establishment is defined as:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 12pt; "><br></span></div><div>
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<p><span style="font-size: 12.000000pt; font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPSMT'">Any business, including but not limited to sole proprietorship, in which the business
operation consists of providing or making available para-massage for consideration or
with the expectation of receiving consideration or any gratuity, whether or not the
business has a fixed place of business within the limits of the Town.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12.000000pt; font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPSMT'">Say WHAT??? Did you read what I read? Does this mean what I think it means? It looks like a brothel to me! And it's legal in Scarborough. There are the usual business practice guidelines etc that need to be followed, but really.... You can read them for yourself here:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12.000000pt; font-family: 'TimesNewRomanPSMT'"> </span><a href="https://www.scarborough.me.us/common/ordinances/1011paramassage.pdf">https://www.scarborough.me.us/common/ordinances/1011paramassage.pdf</a></p><p>Maybe I missed my true calling? I mean considering my license plate is the $39.99 special.......just a thought</p>
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</div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-81657493198982727252013-08-18T08:07:00.001-07:002013-08-18T08:07:25.895-07:00Cavalia OdysseoMy brother called a couple of months ago asking if my son and I would be interested in coming down to Boston to see Cavalia. I'll admit that at first I wasn't sure I was excited about it, not knowing what the heck it was. However, a quick search on the Internet made me extremely excited to see the show. It is a cross between an equestrian show and Cirque De Soleil. (Sp?). So, I talked to my son about it, showed him a trailer of it on YouTube and he was hooked too. <div><br></div><div>My brother, who is generous to a fault, bought the tickets, and train tickets for my son and I. We arrived at North Station and were greeted by my brother, we drove to his condo where we met his wife and we all took off once more to a sidewalk arts/crafts show about 1/2 a mile away. Turns out it was right near where Cavalia was all set up for their spectacular. This is how I was able to get a picture of the <i style="font-weight: bold; ">huge </i>tent. We had lunch at the local Burger Dive, and meandered through the stalls looking at the amazing things people have made. There really was some fantastic things, and a couple of scary things (someone was selling mason jar lights that were filled with dolls---can we say <i>creepy</i>!)</div><div><br></div><div>After we went back to my brothers to chill for a little bit before walking down to the show. It was very impressive from the start, we found our seats and as the lights went down my son looked at me and stated he needed to go to the bathroom. Really??? You couldn't have said something 5 minutes ago?</div><div><br></div><div>So, off we went disturbing about 6 people to get to the aisle, we got outside where the bathrooms were set up.....he didn't make it....he left a trail of diarrhea to the bathrooms. After a couple of minutes I followed him into the men's room and helped him clean up. I don't understand, how did it get on the walls? It was on the floor, all over and down the side of the toilet, but seriously...how did it get on the walls?!?! I rinsed out his shorts as best I could...not a lot of water pressure so you can imagine how well I did. I washed his sneakers because he got it on them (and he stepped in it with deep treads-<i style="font-weight: bold; ">yuck</i>!). We got back to see most of the first half, but the smell was distracting. </div><div><br></div><div>The show was amazing! It was fantastic! The acrobatics my favorite parts, but the horses and horse tricks were close. We got to the intermission ad my son said he needed to leave because sitting in smelly wet shorts and sneakers were too uncomfortable. (I can't say I blame him!). My brother and sister-in-law wanted to stay because the show was so good but also because they paid <b>a lot </b>of money for us to go. (Can't say I blame them either!)</div><div><br></div><div>So, during the 30 minute intermission my son and I ran down the road and across the boulevard to a Kmart, bought a new shirt, shorts <b>and </b>shoes for $15.95. I was pretty impressed with that. Then ran to the back far corner to the bathrooms. He changed into his new clothes, we triple bagged his soiled ones and booked it back to the show. I was very surprised that we made it into our seas just as the lights were going down for the second half. I could finally relax and enjoy the show! I could catch my breath and soak in the sights and sounds........<b>NOT!</b> </div><div><br></div><div>2 minutes in my son turned to me- "I need to go o the bathroom again." NO! This seriously could not be happening to me right now. We just went through this. </div><div><br></div><div>Off we went, this time he made it to the port-a-potty and threw up. We walked back and then had to run back so he could throw up again. The Cavalia people were wonderful and found us aisle seats near the front so we could sit and enjoy the show knowing we could get to the bathrooms faster an without disturbing people. We were able to watch about half of the second half between bathroom runs but missed the grand finale. Oh well, what we saw was great, but the poor people in charge of cleaning that bathroom.....I'm sure they <i>never </i>want to see us again!</div><div><br></div><div>At least it wasn't a boring trip!<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-P-L83I2tvkg/UhDjJvXdlyI/AAAAAAAADCI/9SYKTDWNyXI/s640/blogger-image-1453424752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-P-L83I2tvkg/UhDjJvXdlyI/AAAAAAAADCI/9SYKTDWNyXI/s640/blogger-image-1453424752.jpg"></a></div>This picture is of the huge tent erected for the show <br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-kljlLspRGW4/UhDjG1cEk5I/AAAAAAAADB4/hTZ57kzELIE/s640/blogger-image-2118469794.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-kljlLspRGW4/UhDjG1cEk5I/AAAAAAAADB4/hTZ57kzELIE/s640/blogger-image-2118469794.jpg"></a></div>This one just made me giggle like an immature pre-teen<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-C7J3a_15mUc/UhDjIIGc1kI/AAAAAAAADCA/z84Wups4GgM/s640/blogger-image-1557412099.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-C7J3a_15mUc/UhDjIIGc1kI/AAAAAAAADCA/z84Wups4GgM/s640/blogger-image-1557412099.jpg"></a></div>My son walking to the show<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-dsVUphGmb6U/UhDjFaCHt3I/AAAAAAAADBw/PQJq5bw7uso/s640/blogger-image-1260845472.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-dsVUphGmb6U/UhDjFaCHt3I/AAAAAAAADBw/PQJq5bw7uso/s640/blogger-image-1260845472.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-YoPX48FfP9I/UhDjK8SZKBI/AAAAAAAADCQ/K4gNv3h_Xcw/s640/blogger-image--1985102380.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-YoPX48FfP9I/UhDjK8SZKBI/AAAAAAAADCQ/K4gNv3h_Xcw/s640/blogger-image--1985102380.jpg"></a></div></div></div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-45942698014641486122013-07-18T10:00:00.001-07:002013-07-18T10:00:09.023-07:00TattoosI went to SAMS club today because I had a few things to buy for the party on Saturday and it was going to be my only chance. I'm glad I did. One of the associates walked by and I <i>had </i>to flag her down. I had to get a better look at her tattoo, and get a picture so my son could see. It's a pretty cool and detailed tattoo with more being added around the underside of her arm. My only criticism is how she's going to feel in 40 years with Mario characters covering her whole upper arm? Just sayin....<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ON6JXjCHolw/UegfF2KYe2I/AAAAAAAADAE/gStlz4IOLtw/s640/blogger-image--818028904.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ON6JXjCHolw/UegfF2KYe2I/AAAAAAAADAE/gStlz4IOLtw/s640/blogger-image--818028904.jpg"></a></div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-53432541665044567362013-07-15T18:54:00.001-07:002013-07-15T18:54:46.353-07:00I love to singI have always loved to sing. My mother loves to tell anyone that I was singing "The Sweetheart Tree" and reciting the pledge of allegiance when I was 2 years old. She also likes to tell people that, by being born in a teaching hospital (and her not knowing she could refuse) I was born to a room full of light and the applause of several student doctors. This must be where I get my love of performing from. <div><br></div><div>As I was saying, I love to sing, I sang in the children's choir and then the adult choir. I sang in chorus throughout school and even went to college for music education and sang my way through there too. I have sung at weddings and funerals, local music theatre and recitals. I am even asked to sing as a soloist at a couple churches now and then. Unfortunately my life has been very busy over the last several years and this is one passion that has been put on the sidelines mostly. I do however still love to sing and have finally found my niche. </div><div><br></div><div>I sing at the home I currently work in. (I work with adults with developmental disabilities) I have recently found that my current consumer LOVES when I sing. My past clients have hated my singing and I have used it to "persuade" them to do what they need to be doing. (I don't think you can say its violating clients rights or <i>real</i> torture because I <b>can</b> sing lol). These clients all like heavy metal and screaming like Korn or Disturbed, not opera, broadway or gospel. </div><div><br></div><div>This client however likes my singing! She really does. The only problem.........she's deaf! I guess this is what my life has come to.....singing to deaf people. Well, we are both happy and that's all that counts right?</div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-87897171752355158212013-07-13T17:23:00.001-07:002013-07-13T17:24:56.414-07:00Hi, my new name is GroverTonight I lived one of my favorite moments from Sesame Street. Talking to my son I asked "why?" And signed it as I said it. He then kept asking about the sign as I kept signing and saying "why". <div><br></div><div>It took me several minutes to realize what he was doing. I can't believe he "got me" so easily. Especially where the Y skit with Grover and Prairie Dawn was one of my all time favorites (just behind Grover's "This is near.....and this is far" skit. I felt unbelievably stupid but incredibly proud of my son at the same time...</div><div><br></div><div>So, in the words of my beloved Grover:</div><div><br></div><div>"I'm so embarrassed........"</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_6GjSx4u-JIg4A32vsrlIRz3Z7xvJKAd1IahYIanXOv6OCEWwx_ContCCjLuZZzSYK1xWiSxAOzabCdQxdZUV_DOJlF76nAnM6ENCdZs-AGZ6eG_Ti1o1BVEaY-KC1XhWmJA35LmUno4/s640/blogger-image--1193536281.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_6GjSx4u-JIg4A32vsrlIRz3Z7xvJKAd1IahYIanXOv6OCEWwx_ContCCjLuZZzSYK1xWiSxAOzabCdQxdZUV_DOJlF76nAnM6ENCdZs-AGZ6eG_Ti1o1BVEaY-KC1XhWmJA35LmUno4/s640/blogger-image--1193536281.jpg"></a></div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-78296744249512649662013-07-12T09:24:00.001-07:002013-07-12T09:24:45.757-07:00Hickey part III.....Well, turns out its not just men who like to give me hickeys.....what do I mean you ask?<div><br></div><div>Today I went grocery shopping. I got home and while trying to bring in grocery shopping a beetle attacked me. I'm used to being hit by bugs once in a while, but this thing kept going for my neck. So, after I finished screaming like a little girl because it was obviously out to "get me" I realized he just had a crush and was trying to leave his mark on me to warn off all the other beetles out there that I was spoken for. However, I'm still not keen on hickeys <i>at all!</i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div>Future reference to one and all who may be interested in me: a nice card or flower will work better than a bruise on my skin.......just sayin</div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-66289579940279630812013-07-06T18:31:00.001-07:002013-07-06T18:31:11.331-07:00Hickeys part II...or is it III?I know I've mentioned that I hate hickeys before right? Well, it's still true. A couple of weeks ago I decided to try and put myself "back out there". I met a guy, we talked, we met...we kissed...he's a good kisser, I didn't realize he had such a large mouth, or had quite so much suction. <div><br></div><div>The next morning, and this shows how awake I was, I got out of the shower and thought my tattoo was running/melting lol. Needless to say- I didn't see him again. </div><div><br></div><div>I really hate hickeys-no joke!</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-yMYATDDtiTU/UdjE3fibupI/AAAAAAAAC_c/riGrgKBsp0A/s640/blogger-image--222526865.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-yMYATDDtiTU/UdjE3fibupI/AAAAAAAAC_c/riGrgKBsp0A/s640/blogger-image--222526865.jpg"></a></div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-57890794333198368462013-07-06T18:18:00.001-07:002013-07-06T18:18:00.214-07:00DrivingMy father let my son drive his John Deere mower. He did a great job, although I guess the first time around he almost took out my mothers car. He was so proud of himself. As well he should be...<div><br></div><div>I was given the same opportunity at his age by my grandparents. They let me try their ride on mower.....I drove it right I to their back steps. Needless to say that at the age of 40 I haven't been on one since. </div><div><br></div><div>When I was 12, I drove their 4-wheeler---right into the electric fence. This time they did let me drive it again and I did get better. However, I was riding out in the fields one day and stalled it about 1/2-3/4 of a mile out. My grandfather had to walk all the way out to start it again for me. I was told I couldn't ride it again until I could start it. (It was a pull start) Again, needless to say, I never rode it again. To this day I even have an electric push mower. The electric cord is a pain, but I can start it.....</div><div><br></div><div>Long story short- my boy is growing up and so far he is a better driver than I was at his age. We'll see though, I will officially label him a better driver if he can refrain from driving into his high school in front of a bus full of students, a teacher AND the principal. (True story!)</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-STItoHkzrvg/UdjBxtSjZtI/AAAAAAAAC_M/JqfIvBCpqt8/s640/blogger-image--1162423087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-STItoHkzrvg/UdjBxtSjZtI/AAAAAAAAC_M/JqfIvBCpqt8/s640/blogger-image--1162423087.jpg"></a></div></div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-22547508209906649242013-06-18T07:37:00.001-07:002013-06-18T07:37:45.189-07:00I need my coffee!Have you ever had one of those days? It's not even 10:30am here and it's already been a day. <div><br></div><div>I went to the dr, I've been having problems with my knee since February (it's now June people!). I was told I had runners knee <again> and needed physical therapy. Well, 1 & 1/2 months later and $600 poorer it's not better. Now I have to have an MRI to see if I need surgery or need to learn to live with it. </div><div><br></div><div>That's not the <i style="font-weight: bold; ">best</i> part though.....after leaving the drs and picking up more paint for props for my sons party next month I stopped at Dunkin Donuts. I wanted, no <i style="font-weight: bold; ">I needed</i> an iced coffee. I went through the drive thru. I ordered. The staff gave me a straw and I gave him my money. Then I drove off....</div><div><br></div><div>It wasn't until I was half way home before I went to put the straw in the coffee only to realize there was no coffee...wow, talk about embarrassing having to turn around and go back. Ok so <b>that</b> wasn't the hard part, it was having to tell them what I had done, listen to them call out asking the drive thru person if it had happened and hearing him confirm. </div><div><br></div><div>What can't you do without?</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-PRK24eNMGjE/UcBwt7TtCzI/AAAAAAAAC-Q/YYSQYVzVyfs/s640/blogger-image-762028768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-PRK24eNMGjE/UcBwt7TtCzI/AAAAAAAAC-Q/YYSQYVzVyfs/s640/blogger-image-762028768.jpg"></a></div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-43894350910769613732013-06-13T18:02:00.001-07:002013-06-13T18:02:28.938-07:00HairyI wrote a post about my upcoming hair cut...first I have to say that usually when I ask a stylist to give me a different look she will trim my hair 2-3 inches and refresh my layers. Don't get me wrong...I like the style, I think it looks good on me, I'll probably go back to it too. However, when I say I want something different, I actually mean it. Today my stylist listened and gave me something different. I like it too, but that is t what I wanted to write about today. <div><br></div><div>Today I want to talk about hairstylists making me self conscious. I'm sure it's about making more money and not a statement on my face, but as she was washing my hair she asked if I wanted her to wax my eyebrows. Well I immediately became self conscious. In my mind "why? Is it that obvious they aren't professionally maintained? Are they bolder than Brooke Shields? Have I been in denial all my life? Do I have my families (fathers side) wings for eyebrows? She wouldn't ask if it wasn't necessary right?" So I said "ok"</div><div><br></div><div>Then she asked about my lip. "Ok". So, I got my eyebrows AND upper lip waxed. I felt like Sasquatch. (But I don't anymore!)</div><div> </div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-HCtKiyC6tU8/UbproJMJlAI/AAAAAAAAC9o/ztOtPYQyZ5k/s640/blogger-image--506554344.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-HCtKiyC6tU8/UbproJMJlAI/AAAAAAAAC9o/ztOtPYQyZ5k/s640/blogger-image--506554344.jpg"></a></div>Before...and after...<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-SvlzbPeTTLc/Ubpro1uehsI/AAAAAAAAC9w/YHw1JuFuxNU/s640/blogger-image-1352340184.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-SvlzbPeTTLc/Ubpro1uehsI/AAAAAAAAC9w/YHw1JuFuxNU/s640/blogger-image-1352340184.jpg"></a></div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-71288423706687979632013-06-11T19:52:00.001-07:002013-06-11T19:52:53.846-07:00Hair cutI don't know about you, but when I go for a hair cut, I assume the person with the scissors has more knowledge than I do about hair. I give her the pertinent information.....I need an easy, no fuss hair cut...otherwise, just do what you think looks best. I have yet to be disappointed. <div><br></div><div>I was telling my coworker this evening that I was going to get my hair cut. When she asked what it would look like I told her I had no idea and explained my reasoning. (This is where it gets funny.....well, I think it was funny). She then went into some detail about her own hair cutting experiences, which are interesting to say the least. She finished by telling me that her husband (she is almost 70 and her husband is 85) receives a magazine in the mail. She is sure it is a "gay magazine" and doesn't know why they receive it, but she doesn't mind because it has some of the best articles. She then went on to explain that one article was about the current men's hair fashion which apparently is long on top and short on the sides. She is trimming her sides and letting her hair on top grow. She then proceeded to tell me that I should get this hair style...."it would look really good on you"..... Uh huh, sure. She kept telling me its all the rage, it's what's hot in hair trends.....</div><div><br></div><div>I don't want a boys hair cut.......sorry, I think I'll stick to my original plan....maybe I'll even post a picture (I'll definitely post one if that's the hair cut I'm given lmbo!)</div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-48491107308362251172013-05-31T16:50:00.001-07:002013-05-31T16:50:34.667-07:00Crazy day to get an infusionI went in for my infusion this morning...how was I to know that they would give me a varicose vein and ring worm?? Lmao!<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-nxd4vIkzvrI/Uak3SLGLQgI/AAAAAAAAC8g/jzfZcD8D2ZM/s640/blogger-image-224599043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-nxd4vIkzvrI/Uak3SLGLQgI/AAAAAAAAC8g/jzfZcD8D2ZM/s640/blogger-image-224599043.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Us37EYpqoPI/Uak3Rvq4WoI/AAAAAAAAC8Y/04n64TGJkX4/s640/blogger-image-1986221575.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Us37EYpqoPI/Uak3Rvq4WoI/AAAAAAAAC8Y/04n64TGJkX4/s640/blogger-image-1986221575.jpg"></a></div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-53299508903920187772013-05-22T14:54:00.001-07:002013-05-22T14:54:10.093-07:00I love ice creamWho doesn't love ice cream? I mean are you with me? Well, I've been really struggling for the last week or so.....too many sad and hard things going on. So, how do I deal? I wait for staff to take my son out to eat and sneak out to Dairy Queen. Duh....<div><br></div><div>I ordered a quart...do I need a quart? No, but after the last several days...I want one darn it. Doesn't mean I will eat the whole thing tonight....doesn't mean I won't either! The girl behind the window was getting a cover when the woman at the next window started freaking out! "OMG! Is that my shake? That's huge! I can't possibly drink all that! That's huge for a medium shake!" I pointed out that it was a quart of ice cream that she was getting for me. The look of relief was so profound on her face. We both started laughing like we had never had a funnier experience. Ahh how I needed that laugh. </div><div><br></div><div>I went on to explain how a couple of years ago I ordered a quart and the put it in a bag with a spoon.....so I ate the whole thing. It was their fault! They shouldn't have given me a spoon. The spoon tells me it is a single serving, so I went with it. The woman laughed and said she completely understood my thought process. By this time her shake had arrived and she was visibly relieved to see the size. </div><div><br></div><div>So, the question tonight is....is this a single serving kind of night? I just don't know.... </div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-5gzZfpnxGA4/UZ0-eCOiwFI/AAAAAAAAC8E/gGHSy-tHvI8/s640/blogger-image-518371066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-5gzZfpnxGA4/UZ0-eCOiwFI/AAAAAAAAC8E/gGHSy-tHvI8/s640/blogger-image-518371066.jpg"></a></div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-37826867603711562042013-05-19T19:40:00.001-07:002013-05-19T19:40:30.056-07:00It's none of your business!Why the title? Well, my ex is sticking his nose where it doesn't belong yet again....and getting it wrong yet again.<div><br></div><div>According to my son he's been asking about me. "Is mommy seeing anyone? Does mommy have any new friends? Etc etc..." This is not what my ex says happened......whatever...it is what it is. Anyway, I HAVE been seeing someone of late. A very dear man who I care about a lot. Unfortunately, it wasn't to be and we ended it recently. Sigh....</div><div><br></div><div>I have a friend, she rides a motorcycle. She is in love and engaged to be married. She just moved in with her fiancé 2 blocks from my house. (I see cookouts, and fun times in our futures!). She asked if she could store her motorcycle in my garage. Of course! What are friends for? They dropped it off today....</div><div><br></div><div>I arrived home for work tonight, the ex stated the son had a good day- here's the funny part- he tells me that my son told him I had a boyfriend named "M". Then he tells me that "M" was here dropping off the motorcycle. He was very surprised to realize that I was dating "M" as it is someone we both know. Then He asked if it had been 6 months since we started dating since he was coming over to the house. </div><div><br></div><div>I laughed....that he would assume there is only one "M" in my life. I don't know how my friend will feel finding out this way that I'm dating her fiancé, or how he will feel finding out we are dating...."M", you're a fantastic man...but I don't poach from anyone, especially from such a good friend, I hope you understand. Love you both!</div><div><br></div><div>And to my "M"...I hope you are happy, I will always care and miss you....but I don't think we got the timing right. </div>Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5534179431849505694.post-13783748960067993162013-04-30T17:03:00.001-07:002013-04-30T17:03:43.929-07:00Sometimes I get jealousAs my title states- sometimes I get jealous. Of the aunt who took her two dogs through a drive through car wash and the big dog in the back freaked out so much he defecated all over the back seat only to climb in front and do the same to the small lapdog, and all the groceries she had just bought. I laughed so hard I think I pulled something. <br />
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Or how about the friend who is having/had leakage problems a d went for physical therapy for it where they stuck electrodes to her wahoo and shocked her to get the muscles to contract....<br />
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I mean really, why couldn't those things happen to me? I would have sooo much to write about here to keep you all entertained. (Myself included)<br />
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Instead all I have to share is that my dr told me I am an oxymoron times two. Yes, not only do I have runners knee, now I have tennis elbow too. Do you have any idea how good a shape I'd be in if I did both or even either of those things? But no...I almost gave myself a heart attack or stroke trying to run a quarter of a lap at the community track to keep up with my son (and let's just be clear how far I really ran.....it's 12 laps per mile). Yeah, I'm a real athlete. <br />
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I did have another bizarre thing happen today...nothing huge or jaw dropping but while at my office talking to the office manager a former coworker came up behind me, grabbed a roll of fat and hung on while talking to the office manager. What do you do with that? How does a person respond to such a thing? Well, I didn't do anything, I had no idea how to address it. When he was done talking to the manager he pulled on my hair (gently) and walked out the door. <br />
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Somewhat weird....somewhat funny......I'd still rather have the other stories.....just sayin...Emily's perspectivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13507634928769129436noreply@blogger.com0