<?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-507798868837047775</id><updated>2011-11-05T00:24:46.808-07:00</updated><category term='comedy'/><category term='hillary clinton'/><category term='san fransisco'/><category term='marriage'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='astrology'/><category term='wheat'/><category term='home'/><category term='sex'/><category term='society'/><category term='clothes'/><category term='sports'/><category term='turning 30'/><category term='valentine&apos;s'/><category term='dating'/><category term='happiness'/><category term='work'/><category term='kids'/><category term='humor'/><category term='roses'/><category term='therapy'/><category term='advice'/><category term='election'/><category term='dress'/><category term='politics'/><category term='vegan'/><category term='parenting'/><category term='music'/><category term='school'/><category term='pizza'/><category term='life'/><category term='organic'/><category term='style'/><category term='diet'/><category term='introspection'/><category term='people'/><category term='funny stuff'/><category term='church'/><category term='anger management'/><category term='barack obama'/><category term='food'/><category term='holidays'/><category term='surveys'/><category term='Birthdays'/><category term='house'/><category term='vegetarian'/><category term='anniversaries'/><category term='satire'/><category term='commuting'/><category term='cleaning'/><category term='Mother&apos;s Day'/><category term='Books'/><category term='49ers'/><title type='text'>Who pissed in your coffee?</title><subtitle type='html'>rants...thoughts...raves...life...observations:
&lt;br&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-1551806899679408726</id><published>2009-09-09T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T21:26:19.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bleh.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I'm tired. My hands and joints hurt.  I'm still in my work clothes. I finally have cable and internet again.  I missed my computer.  I don't wanna finish packing and moving my old house- but I want to be done with it.  I wanna vacation. Wahhhh....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;And that is tonight's whinefest.  And yes, I do have cheese with my wine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Now back to your regular scheduled programming.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-1551806899679408726?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/1551806899679408726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=1551806899679408726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/1551806899679408726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/1551806899679408726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2009/09/bleh.html' title='bleh.'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-7760801133875134702</id><published>2009-08-23T11:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T11:02:47.125-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Umm, it's really been almost a year??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"&gt;Really?  A year?  Since I've written anything?  I guess my facebook addiction has gotten the best of me. LOL.  No time to write today (for my one whole reader, who is on my FB anyway)... but me thinks I have to get back to this blog soon.  Right now? Busy with back to school, packing, moving next week, a newish job..oyy.  Not to mention the regular day-to-days with the kiddos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Sleep is so overrated. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-7760801133875134702?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/7760801133875134702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=7760801133875134702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/7760801133875134702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/7760801133875134702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2009/08/umm-its-really-been-almost-year.html' title='Umm, it&apos;s really been almost a year??'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-980571436341762241</id><published>2008-09-11T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T10:52:03.120-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='commuting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Long time no write</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Wow.  I haven't been on here in months.  I don't think I have any readers anyway...but I'll post some of my blogs from Myspace later to catch up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It's just been crazy.  I left one job at the end of July, started a new one exactly one month ago today, Peter started school, both kids started new daycare.  And with my new job came "Commuter Schedule."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;5:30 am wake up. Hah.  I really press snooze.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;5:45 am really wake up. Shower, get dressed, put backpacks in car.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;6:15 am put sleeping children in car&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;6:30 am drop kids off at their dad's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;by 7:03 am get on caltrain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;8ish am take Muni from the caltrain station to downtown SF, walk from Muni to my office&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;8:30 am enter my office.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;WORK all day long&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;5:00 pm leave office, run to Muni station, take Muni to Caltrain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;5:33 pm take Caltrain back to SJ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;6:40 pm or so-drive to pick up the kids at the sitters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;7:00 pm HOME (Finally)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And not like I really get to relax.  The kids have homework, snacks, baths, reading, bedtime.  I have to iron, make lunches, clean, get kids' backpacks ready...oh and eat.  (Luckily the kids eat at the sitters.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Life.  Anyway.  I'll blog for reals later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-980571436341762241?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/980571436341762241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=980571436341762241' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/980571436341762241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/980571436341762241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/09/long-time-no-write.html' title='Long time no write'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-5618771263079534982</id><published>2008-07-01T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T21:25:06.644-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='turning 30'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birthdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='introspection'/><title type='text'>Sometimes my walls crumble at your feet</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sigh. I have so much in my head these days. So much that I want to write, but I can't get it out. But I end up finding more and more meaning in everything I read--I find a way of correlating songs, my horoscope, random blogs, blurbs in magazines, etc to my little existence. Maybe this is the year of introspection for me. That's good I guess-at least my brain is still putting thoughts together--I just need to kick start them with someone else's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here it is, I've managed to be on this earth for nearly 30 years (Shh! Don't tell anyone I'm that old!) This is causing me to think about who I am, what I've done, what I'm doing, and who I want to be. Yeah, cuz remember back to when you were a kid and you thought that you'd have that all figured out by now-Ha! Then life comes along, takes you on a journey, with some incredible twists and turns that lead you somewhere other than where you expected to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's not a bad thing. Because, even if I'm not where I expected to be, I'm a better person than I ever could have imagined. I'm not saying I'm perfect by any means, just that I prioritize the people who are important, not the things that aren't. I, in my late 20s finally realized I liked who I was, and learned to be comfortable in my skin, and care less about the superficial thoughts of others. I am just me, no more, no less, maybe not who you expect, but me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned to surround myself with people I am like, and/or want to be like, people who take me for who I am. People who make me want to be a better person. Much better than surrounding myself with people who expect me to act a certain way and live up to their idea of who they think I should be--instead of just paying attention to who I am. People who bring me down to make themselves feel better. Those people are no longer welcome in my life. That said, I know I haven't always made this easy on people. A rare handful truly get to see "me." Maybe it's those who bother to try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, with all this introspection, why am I not ready for 30? Well, 29 and I have had a great year. I'm not ready to end it with 29, to stop this dance, just because 30 is tapping on my shoulder. In my 29th year: My kids stopped being babies, and started being little people. I realized I met the love of my life. Fuck. I said it. In public. I will likely now get struck down by lightning. (Yeah, yeah. I met him before I turned 29...we didn't admit any of this "love" bs until much later.) I realized that before now, I have never truly loved anyone. I, after an 8 (or 9?) year sabbatical from school, figured out what I want to do with the rest of my life. (Practice Traditional Chinese Medicine.) And, instead of holding it in front of myself like a far-off dream, I'm figuring out how to do it. That's a step for me. I've started making life happen, instead of letting it happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, 29 has been pretty damn good. I'm not ready for it to stop. Anyway, I figure I have another 5 years of passing for 29.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-5618771263079534982?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/5618771263079534982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=5618771263079534982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/5618771263079534982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/5618771263079534982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/07/sometimes-my-walls-crumble-at-your-feet.html' title='Sometimes my walls crumble at your feet'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-7376444148656393859</id><published>2008-06-13T19:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T19:13:22.418-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Voting Republican-Why?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why people vote Republican:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FiQJ9Xp0xxU&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FiQJ9Xp0xxU&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-7376444148656393859?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/7376444148656393859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=7376444148656393859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/7376444148656393859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/7376444148656393859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/06/voting-republican-why.html' title='Voting Republican-Why?'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-108357479541548186</id><published>2008-05-20T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T21:40:37.128-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='astrology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anger management'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='therapy'/><title type='text'>Laughing Tantrum Release Therepy...I should try it</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;So, I've had a very testing and trying night with my children.  They didn't want to eat what I made for dinner...so I made them something else, which they barely ate.  AARGH!  Of course, then, they are hungry, and want a snack.  Which I won't let them have.  So, I'm "Mean."  I'm simultaneously taking care of them, arguing with them, answering the blackberry, cleaning out the fridge, and doing dishes...and I haven't eaten yet myself.  All the while, they are fighting with each other.  Because they're cranky.  Because they didn't eat their dinner. And I won't give them a snack.  Which makes me mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Maddie needs me to do everything with her.  Go Potty. Go get a doll from her room. Brush her teeth. I have to be next to her for everything.  While I'm making food, cleaning the fridge, answering the blackberry, doing dishes and telling Peter to eat his dinner while he plays with legos.  *SCREAMS*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I put the kids in the bath...Maddie wants to brush her teeth, but not with the toothpaste in the bathroom, with the toothpaste in Peter's suitcase.  But she won't go get it by herself.  I snap.  I refuse to go with her to get it out of the suitcase that's two rooms away (in my tiny 700 sq ft house everything is no more than two rooms away...) Tantrum ensues.  I stick her in the tub anyway.  More tantrum.  I take her out, dry her off, put her jammies on her and put her in bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both kids are hungry.  But I won't give them a snack.  I offer them their dinners, but that's not what they want.  So I'm mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*SCREAMS*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like a bad mom.  I spent half the night being sharp or short with my kids.  Maybe even yelled a couple times.  But JESUS, can they listen?  Can they let me sit for 2 minutes?  I would have loved to have spent half the night sitting on the couch with them watching a movie...but I don't have time for that when I'm cooking two dinners, cleaning up after them, fighting with them over basic things like taking a bath.  I'm so tired.  I'm at my wits end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I finally got two minutes to sit, I looked up my Free Will Astrology horoscope for this week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Free Will Astrology, May 21st:&lt;br /&gt;CANCER (June 21-July 22): If you're normal, you periodically feel little surges of anger that you don't express. Over time they may accumulate into a mass of blind rage that can hurt innocent bystanders, damage your relationships, and tempt you to punch holes in walls. Is there a way to keep this from happening? Yes, there is: It's my patented Laughing Tantrum Release Therapy, a five-minute ritual that you perform once a week in a private place with no witnesses. For four minutes, you fume, seethe, curse, and yell. For the final 60 seconds, you compel yourself to laugh uncontrollably. This week would be an excellent time to start integrating Laughing Tantrum Release Therapy into your routine.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is uncanny how much this applies to me, and how much Free Will Astrology horoscopes tend to apply to my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.  Don't mind me while I yell profanities for the next five minutes, then bust out laughing.  I'm not crazy.  I'm just practicing Laughing Tantrum Release Therepy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-108357479541548186?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/108357479541548186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=108357479541548186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/108357479541548186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/108357479541548186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/05/laughing-tantrum-release-therepyi.html' title='Laughing Tantrum Release Therepy...I should try it'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-6753490515945099654</id><published>2008-05-17T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T21:41:37.005-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='surveys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Sigh.  It's just a survey</title><content type='html'>1&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;) Do you like blue cheese?&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes...crumbled on a salad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Have you ever smoked heroin&lt;br /&gt;Hell no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Do you own a gun?&lt;br /&gt;All of mine shoot water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) What flavor do you add to your drink at sonic?&lt;br /&gt;Given my guy's nickname, I could REALLY twist this around. ;P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Do you get nervous before doctor appointments?&lt;br /&gt;Not typically, but it depends on what I'm going to the doctor for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) What do you think of hot dogs?&lt;br /&gt;I don't think of them, I don't eat them.  But if you like to eat lips and assholes-by all means, go for it, eat a hot dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Favorite Christmas song?&lt;br /&gt;White Christmas-the Bing Crosby version.&lt;br /&gt;I've got a Boner for Christmas-Nerf Herder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) What do you prefer to drink in the morning?&lt;br /&gt;Coffee&lt;br /&gt;OJ if I've been drinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Can you do push ups?&lt;br /&gt;I might be able to do a push up...once you pluralize it, probably not.  Damn, I need to work out more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Can you do a chin up?&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I've tried since high school gym class.  I didn't like them then either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) What's your favorite piece of jewelry&lt;br /&gt;The vintage diamond ring I got when my Aunt Carrie passed away.  It's the only thing I wear on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) Favorite hobby?&lt;br /&gt;As a single mom, I may have forgotten the meaning of the word "hobby."  From what I recall, a "hobby" requires "spare time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13) Ever been in a car wreck?&lt;br /&gt;Yep.  Never anything that damaged more than my car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14)Do you have A.D.D.&lt;br /&gt;Depends on which definition of A.D.D. you are using.&lt;br /&gt;If you mean "AJs Dick Dependancy." Then, yes, I suffer immensely from ADD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16) Your full name?&lt;br /&gt;ms.sinn will suffice.  Anyone who needs to knows the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17) Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment:&lt;br /&gt;It's too early to be up.&lt;br /&gt;I'm still tired.&lt;br /&gt;It's AJ's fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18) Name 3 things you bought yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;Kiddie swimming pool.&lt;br /&gt;Fan&lt;br /&gt;Movies to keep the kids occupied while I worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19) Name 3 drinks you regularly drink&lt;br /&gt;Coffee, wine, tea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20) Current worry?&lt;br /&gt;I'm not allowed to worry today. It's Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21) Current hate right now?&lt;br /&gt;Aspects of my job, and the fact that I haven't gone after my ex for child support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22)Can you speak any different languages?&lt;br /&gt;Not well anymore.  It's been 10 years since I practiced French, and no Spanish since high-school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23) How did you bring in the New Year?&lt;br /&gt;Cooked dinner for me and AJ, put the kids to bed, and we brought in the New Year with a bottle of wine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24) where would you like to go?&lt;br /&gt;Everywhere.  Right now, I'd settle for a weekend away with my man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25) Name three people who will complete this?&lt;br /&gt;I'm not psychic this early in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26) Do you own slippers?&lt;br /&gt;Yes.  I have several pairs, but I never ever wear them.  People should really stop buying me slippers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27) What shirt are you wearing?&lt;br /&gt;A purple tank top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28) Do you like sleeping on satin sheets?&lt;br /&gt;Never have.  My grandma used to swear by sleeping on a satin pillow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29) Can you whistle?&lt;br /&gt;I grew up on a construction site-what do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30) Favorite color?&lt;br /&gt;Red&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31) Would you be a pirate?&lt;br /&gt;I'm more of a ninja type of gal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32) What songs do you sing in the shower?&lt;br /&gt;I don't sing in the shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33) Favorite girl's name?&lt;br /&gt;Charlotte-one of Madeleine's middle names.&lt;br /&gt;I also like Natalie, but I'm not having any more kids, so I'll have to save it for my next dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34) Favorite boy's name?&lt;br /&gt;Let's go with Peter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35)Whats in your pocket?&lt;br /&gt;Umm. Awkward...uhhh-I'm wearing a tank top and underwear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36) Last thing that made you laugh?&lt;br /&gt;My honey's mom's blog.  She's so funny.  I have no idea where he gets it :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37) Best bed sheets as a child?&lt;br /&gt;Strawberry Shortcake??  I don't think we had very many character sheets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38) Worst injury you've ever had?&lt;br /&gt;I cut the tip off my pinky two years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39) Do you love where you live?&lt;br /&gt;I love being less than an hour from everywhere I'd want to be.  I hate the cost of living, but I've not been able to convince myself to move since I got here six years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40) How many TVs do you have in your house/apartment?&lt;br /&gt;One.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42) How many dogs do you have?&lt;br /&gt;None right now :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43) Does someone love you?&lt;br /&gt;Lots of people love me.  I'm a lovable person.  It's my modesty and humbleness they love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44) favorite childhood memory?&lt;br /&gt;Sundays at Grandma's house, making pizza, playing with all my cousins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45) What are you currently reading?&lt;br /&gt;Lightning by Dean Koontz (again)&lt;br /&gt;Stack of magazines: BUST, Health, Ode, ReadyMade&lt;br /&gt;New Cooking Light Cookbook&lt;br /&gt;...And I've been meaning to dust off The Web That Has No Weaver, and get back on track with Chinese Medicine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46) What is your favorite candy?&lt;br /&gt;I really don't eat a lot of candy.  Probably Starburst or Skittles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47) Something you've learned recently?&lt;br /&gt;I'm much more like my mother than I ever wanted to be, and I wish it would stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48) What song do you want played at your funeral?&lt;br /&gt;Ask me when I'm dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49 What were you doing 12 AM last night?&lt;br /&gt;Trying to watch a movie whilst falling asleep on the couch with AJ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50) What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up?&lt;br /&gt;Something I can't have until I have more alone time with my man. Sigh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-6753490515945099654?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/6753490515945099654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=6753490515945099654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/6753490515945099654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/6753490515945099654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/05/sigh-its-just-survey.html' title='Sigh.  It&apos;s just a survey'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-3722577076578752332</id><published>2008-05-16T16:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T16:55:01.785-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happiness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>I choose happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many parts of my life are awesome right now.  Really. My guy is freakin' awesome, my kids are incredible, smart witty little people. I've had an incredible year, in fact, I like 29 so much, I've been thinking I should keep him around longer.  Why ditch him just because 30 is waiting around the corner? Fuck 30.  30 will have to wait, I'm enjoying 29 far too much.  I digress, I'll blog that one closer to the 1st Anniversary for me and good ol' 29.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the subject,  I've spent the last several months letting the small portion of my life that is frustrating, that I am unhappy with, bring me down.  But really, I need to drop it.  I can't let that part get me down.  I need to change it, or live with it.  But if I live with it, I need to not be merely complacent, I need to accept it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This may be possible for part, but not all of the portion I'm unhappy with. But, instead of lamenting where I'm at, and allowing life to happen to me, I'm going to make my life happen.  It's about time.  I need to stop waiting for things to happen that I logically know will not.  I need to make certain things happen-as painful as it may be in the short term, I don't want to be "here" in another 10 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I'd be 29 and still figuring it out, but hell, at least I am figuring it out.  So, I choose happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-3722577076578752332?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/3722577076578752332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=3722577076578752332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/3722577076578752332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/3722577076578752332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-choose-happy.html' title='I choose happy'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-4886015304313262138</id><published>2008-05-11T07:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T16:57:02.797-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mother&apos;s Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><title type='text'>Happy Mother's Day...to me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Yesterday, people kept asking me, "What are you doing for Mother's Day?"  Umm, it's another Sunday.  I'll drop my kids off at their dads like I always do, except today I'll send them with a gift for their dad's mom.  He won't acknowledge that the day, nor take the kids to get me anything.  (His mom will likely send a card home with the kids--you know a real special card ---she'll cross out Happy Birthday, write in Mother's Day, and sign the kids' names herself, then put $10 in it...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The shocked expressions I get--"You're not spending extra time with your kids on Mother's Day?!"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;No. I"m not.  Does that make me a bad mom?  Every day is "Mother's Day" for me...I have my kids seven days per week.  I love them, they're awesome, but I still need my Sunday.  They still need to try to form a deeper connection with their dad.  I need the little bit of a break I get each week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So, what am I doing for Mother's Day?  I'm dropping the kids off, I'm getting myself a haircut, I'm buying my daughter a dresser, I'm getting my work-stuff set for Monday, I'm picking up the house (all before noon), then I'm spending the rest of the day with my boyfriend...who will likely take me out to lunch, make me dinner, take me to a movie, and tell me to relax...which is a typical Sunday for us.  (He's awesome every day, not just on holidays...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Sounds like a good Mother's Day to me...now I must go call my mom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/507798868837047775-4886015304313262138?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/4886015304313262138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=4886015304313262138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/4886015304313262138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/4886015304313262138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-mothers-dayto-me.html' title='Happy Mother&apos;s Day...to me'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-3550557973744547017</id><published>2008-05-08T20:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T20:59:20.635-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clothes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='style'/><title type='text'>You are what you...wear?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;After six years of wearing what I wear at the company I work, I've been informed I need to dress more appropriately for work...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what that is...I guess I'm not GAP or LL Bean or frumpy enough?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did someone complain, or is my boss just being preemptive, knowing she has a new boss coming in? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, I just work with jealous, flat-chested haters...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...now I must go.  I apparently need to find long skirts, turtlenecks, and anything else I can wear to cover up my individuality in the workplace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-3550557973744547017?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/3550557973744547017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=3550557973744547017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/3550557973744547017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/3550557973744547017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/05/you-are-what-youwear.html' title='You are what you...wear?'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-5883046932689777321</id><published>2008-05-06T21:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T21:43:25.237-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wheat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='san fransisco'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pizza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Pizza Kills--you've been warned!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Yes.  It kills..at least it kills me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I must say, that if ever in the lovely Tenderloin area of San Francisco, stop in at a little hole-in-the-wall-former-jazz-club called 222...not only are the music and atmosphere great (especially Friday night happy hour--shameless plug for DJ Brion) but the pizza is the best pizza I've ever nearly died for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously.  I'd consider putting myself through the pain and suffering again just to taste the thinnest, most Italian crust ever tasted on American soil...topped with bleu cheese, pears, basil?...I am drooling...I loved every bite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And paid for three-and-a-half days straight.  The worst day being Monday.  See, I'm smart:  if I'm going to fuck my body up by eating mass quantities of wheat, I take it easy for a day or so... Saturday (all day) and Sunday (most of the day) I ate bland foods:  rice, veggies, eggs, sushi...basic stuff.  I was feeling okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I ate a steak for dinner on Sunday.  With Cheesy potatoes.  And a salad with cherry vinaigrette...and wine...and coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ohh.  I was miserable.  I paid.  My body told me: "FUCK YOU!  You think you can go gorge yourself on pizza, then try to make me digest a steak and cheesy potatoes.  GO TO HELL, Bitch!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup, no more wheat for me.  Just say no.  Don't let me do it.  Smack me if I try.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-5883046932689777321?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/5883046932689777321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=5883046932689777321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/5883046932689777321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/5883046932689777321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/05/pizza-kills-youve-been-warned.html' title='Pizza Kills--you&apos;ve been warned!'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-4031487324120526816</id><published>2008-05-06T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T21:16:42.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The evil you know</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Sigh.  Another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another day wondering how I ended up where I'm at.  Pissed.  That I AM  where I'm at.  And at myself for not changing it.  There's a certain comfort in what you know.  Even if it's not right.  Even if it makes you angry, sad, cry, drink, and feel useless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know it.  It's what you've known for years.  It might be falling apart, but you're used to wearing it.  Doesn't matter how many holes are in it, you just can't bring yourself to find a new one.  But, no matter how much you love it, it doesn't love you back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the danger with the evil you know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-4031487324120526816?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/4031487324120526816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=4031487324120526816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/4031487324120526816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/4031487324120526816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/05/evil-you-know.html' title='The evil you know'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-700840413084145155</id><published>2008-04-23T21:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T21:33:01.242-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='election'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hillary clinton'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='barack obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Hillary Clinton, You've Inspired Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;To contribute my hard-earned money to Barack Obama's campaign.  Yes, I did it.  Me.  The hard-working, semi-college educated, twenty-something single mother, with not a dime to spare. But I did it anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it feels great.  Great to be a part of something that could mean positive change in our country (for a change!).  Great to know that this "Elitist" (pfft!) I support is running his entire campaign from contributions made by folks just like me.  Folks who work hard for very little, who do the best to raise their families, folks who want to be heard by our government, and see that opportunity in Barack Obama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I've been clear about my support of Barack Obama since late 2007, this is the first time in my life I've felt the need to contribute to a political cause or campaign.  So, thanks Senator Clinton.  You may be proud of the contributions you received after Tuesday's primary in Pennsylvania, but know that for each person that gave you their money, there are three people just like me contributing to Senator Obama's campaign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all.  You may now go back to sucking the marrow out of newly born infants.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-700840413084145155?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/700840413084145155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=700840413084145155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/700840413084145155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/700840413084145155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/04/hillary-clinton-youve-inspired-me.html' title='Hillary Clinton, You&apos;ve Inspired Me'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-1090582537431856658</id><published>2008-02-24T18:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T18:36:47.014-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='satire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='comedy'/><title type='text'>Dear Legbreaker</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;My man is so funny.  Check out his new advice column, &lt;a href="http://dearlegbreaker.blogspot.com"&gt;Dear Legbreaker&lt;/a&gt;.  Move over Dear Abby, (better yet, cover your ears!) this is advice for the 21st century.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-1090582537431856658?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='https://dearlegbreaker.blogspot.com' title='Dear Legbreaker'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/1090582537431856658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=1090582537431856658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/1090582537431856658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/1090582537431856658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/02/dear-legbreaker.html' title='Dear Legbreaker'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-7589932357979888898</id><published>2008-02-14T08:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T09:06:55.888-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='barack obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Yes We Can</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I don't recall the last time I was so moved by any presidential candidate. It seems the past two elections were about voting against the wrong candidate, instead of for the right candidate.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In fact, politics in general, since the 1970s have been like this.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Not anymore.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object id="Musicane" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="371" width="408" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"&gt;&lt;param name="_cx" value="10795"&gt;&lt;param name="_cy" value="9816"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="Movie" value="http://www.musicane.com/yeswecan/musicane1.swf?rsid=6c19b704-d550-4ad1-9da1-0c307c46faed&amp;amp;sid=911E113E-F2EA-41EA-A5A6-C2A2B1A2E9E3&amp;amp;uid={1}"&gt;&lt;param name="Src" value="http://www.musicane.com/yeswecan/musicane1.swf?rsid=6c19b704-d550-4ad1-9da1-0c307c46faed&amp;amp;sid=911E113E-F2EA-41EA-A5A6-C2A2B1A2E9E3&amp;amp;uid={1}"&gt;&lt;param name="WMode" value="Window"&gt;&lt;param name="Play" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="Loop" value="-1"&gt;&lt;param name="Quality" value="High"&gt;&lt;param name="SAlign" value="LT"&gt;&lt;param name="Menu" value="-1"&gt;&lt;param name="Base" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="AllowScriptAccess" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="Scale" value="NoScale"&gt;&lt;param name="DeviceFont" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="EmbedMovie" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="BGColor" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="SWRemote" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="MovieData" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="SeamlessTabbing" value="1"&gt;&lt;param name="Profile" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="ProfileAddress" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="ProfilePort" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="AllowNetworking" value="all"&gt;&lt;param name="AllowFullScreen" value="false"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.musicane.com/yeswecan/musicane1.swf?rsid=6c19b704-d550-4ad1-9da1-0c307c46faed&amp;amp;sid=911E113E-F2EA-41EA-A5A6-C2A2B1A2E9E3&amp;amp;uid={1}" quality="high" name="Musicane" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" height="371" width="408"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yes &lt;em&gt;WE&lt;/em&gt; can!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-7589932357979888898?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/7589932357979888898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=7589932357979888898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/7589932357979888898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/7589932357979888898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-dont-recall-last-time-i-was-so-moved.html' title='Yes We Can'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-8181104064515680513</id><published>2008-02-12T14:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T14:29:37.660-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><title type='text'>Pretend Dad</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There's a part of me that had hoped it would've taken my kids another few years to figure this out....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three weeks ago, after my ex dropped off the kids, my son was upset about his dad's choice of discipline for not eating breakfast. (Which, honestly, I don't agree with, but I didn't tell my son that. Anyway,I digress.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Peter says to me (after his dad left): "He's just a pretend dad!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "What do you mean by that, Buddy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter: "You're my real owner" (ha) "You're the boss, he's not my boss, he only pretends!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "When you're at Daddy's house, he is the boss, I'm sorry buddy, that's just how it works. At his house you have to listen to him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing how kids pick up on things. Peter isn't even five years old yet. Like I said, there's a part of me that hoped they wouldn't figure this out yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a (very small) part of me that's glad they see how it is--makes me feel a bit more sane. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-8181104064515680513?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/8181104064515680513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=8181104064515680513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/8181104064515680513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/8181104064515680513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/02/pretend-dad.html' title='Pretend Dad'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-2831830831501735951</id><published>2008-02-12T14:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T14:06:43.655-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am the shiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.flarn.com/~warlock/tarot/chinese/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2 align="center"&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana"&gt;&lt;b&gt;You are The High Priestess&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;P align="center"&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana"&gt;Science, Wisdom, Knowledge, Education.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana"&gt;The High Priestess is the card of knowledge, instinctual, supernatural, secret knowledge. She holds scrolls of arcane information that she might, or might not reveal to you. The moon crown on her head as well as the crescent by her foot indicates her willingness to illuminate what you otherwise might not see, reveal the secrets you need to know. The High Priestess is also associated with the moon however and can also indicate change or fluxuation, particularily when it comes to your moods.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" face="Verdana"&gt;&lt;b&gt;What Tarot Card are You?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flarn.com/~warlock/tarot"&gt;Take the Test to Find Out.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-2831830831501735951?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/2831830831501735951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=2831830831501735951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/2831830831501735951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/2831830831501735951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-am-shiz.html' title='I am the shiz'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-6251160205722132495</id><published>2008-01-09T14:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T10:38:13.679-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='roses'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='valentine&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anniversaries'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>I hate roses and other wacky things about me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There are some things about me that I think are fairly pragmatic, but I've been told are actually pretty wacky...maybe it's just that I don't buy into all the societal norms and expectations all the time...not even some of the time.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm just me, take it or leave it...but in case you were wondering, here some of my beliefs that set me apart from the typical female homosapien. (Also known by the scientific term: Crazy-ass Bitch.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I hate roses.&lt;/strong&gt; It's true. Really. If you're stupid enough to waste you're money buying me roses, I won't even feign gratitude to spare your feelings. I will immediately throw them out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Valentine's Day is just another way for Hallmark to make its profit margin for the year.&lt;/strong&gt; Don't worry about the fancy dinner, obviously not the roses, or even jewelry...My affection cannot be bought--it's not about how much money is spent one day a year, but the quality of time spent throughout the year. And on that note...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Anniversaries are for people who are married.&lt;/strong&gt; Yes, I typed it. Honey, you're off the hook. How do you determine an anniversary otherwise--the first time you met? --the first "real" date? --when you decided to call "it" something, or use titles? Jesus, how can any of us keep it straight? I'm lucky to remember my own birthday. This does not mean that I don't remember any special occasions, or have memorable moments with my man, but we can remind ourselves of those moments anytime. Why wait for once a year?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marriage is for knocked-up teenagers from 1950. &lt;/strong&gt;Well, maybe that doesn't apply to you, and you have a future desire to get married. To each his own. (It worked for my parents--still married after almost 35 years, my grandparents--married for 53 years when my Grandpa passed away.) I just don't see the need to get married. There's no tax break (at least not for me as a single parent), you can put domestic partners on health insurance, you can specify any individual you want in a living will, will or trust (And even if you were married, your family could still fight it--i.e. Terry Schiavo.) So, why? What's the point?&lt;br /&gt;And for those of you who insist upon getting married, just sign the damn pre-nup. If you really love the person "'Til death do you part" then what the hell is the difference?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And for naysayers who get the impression I'm dried up and bitter...Um, no. Several people in my past have tried to convince me marriage is a good idea--I even went so far as to wear a ring at one point, but I smartened up, pulled my head out of my ass, and realized it's not for me. I was happily single, and I'm currently in a great relationship with the hottest man alive who happens to share my beliefs. Yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I will not carry a man's balls in my purse.&lt;/strong&gt; Really. If you want to go out with your friends, and we have no prior commitment, then just let me know you're going--don't ask my permission. If you want to have a beer, have a damn beer. If you want to watch the game, watch the damn game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The above statements only become a problem under these circumstances:&lt;br /&gt;1) You constantly choose those options instead of or without ever including me.&lt;br /&gt;2) You are not able to financially support yourself, or keep up with your family obligations. Notice how it says "your" not "mine."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Now you know a few wacky things about me, and as GI Joe always said, "Knowing is half the battle."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-6251160205722132495?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/6251160205722132495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=6251160205722132495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/6251160205722132495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/6251160205722132495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-hate-roses-and-other-wacky-things.html' title='I hate roses and other wacky things about me'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-7678961208109417145</id><published>2008-01-09T14:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T10:39:02.927-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vegetarian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='organic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Skinny Bitch</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;If you want to throw out all the food in your kitchen, read this book. Seriously--it's an eye opener. Well, actually it just spells out a lot of things most of us know, but are in denial of. Such as--the chemicals in processed foods. The antibiotics and hormones fed to animals that we eat, that we in turn digest. The horrendous conditions of dairy farms, cattle ranches, egg hatcheries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Take out the cruelty to animals piece for a bit--I'm not going totally PETA on you--I promise--I won't give up my leather boots for birkenstocks! (I'm also not saying it's okay to be cruel to animals, just that it's not the only or primary reason for my concern.) Just think about what you are putting in your body:&lt;br /&gt;-Another animal's milk?&lt;br /&gt;-Rotting, decomposing flesh?&lt;br /&gt;-Rotting, decomposing flesh riddled with hormones, antibiotics, drugs&lt;br /&gt;-The unfertilized egg of another species?&lt;br /&gt;-Vegetables that are processed and full of fertilizers and chemicals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Why do we need to eat these things? Because the government says we need a "well-rounded" diet of dairy, meats, vegetables, limited grains. No wonder, the dairy and meat, and agriculture industries make a lot of money for our government.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;What does this mean for me? Awareness. No more walking through life blind to what I put in my body. Read ingredients, know what you're eating. Make it organic, less processed, no chemicals. Eat out less, cook whole foods at home instead. Can it be more expensive? Probably. But isn't my and my children's health worth it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-7678961208109417145?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/7678961208109417145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=7678961208109417145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/7678961208109417145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/7678961208109417145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2008/01/skinny-bitch.html' title='Skinny Bitch'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-2111956440694036031</id><published>2007-11-26T10:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T10:06:56.103-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='49ers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sports'/><title type='text'>Thank-you 49ers...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;...For the return of my sex-life...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I got some on a Sunday for the first time in 8 weeks. For the good of Bay Area Football widows, please try that whole "winning" thing again...and soon. I just can't handle my man being depressed each and every Sunday--not to mention the scotch bill has been getting pretty high.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-2111956440694036031?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/2111956440694036031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=2111956440694036031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/2111956440694036031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/2111956440694036031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2007/11/thank-you-49ers.html' title='Thank-you 49ers...'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-2327970227807965993</id><published>2007-10-18T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T10:49:36.677-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny stuff'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;So, every day on the way to Daycare, we drive past a church that has a giant cross in front of the building--It's bigger than the trees that surround it. Every day, my 4.5 year old son asks, "Momma, what's that?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: &lt;/strong&gt;"It's a cross, it means there's a church there." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Him:&lt;/strong&gt; "Oh, what's a church?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; "It's where people go to learn about Jesus." Change the subject.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;(I was raised Catholic, but have been inside a church maybe twice in the past 10 years, and am not practicing any religion, so feel no need to get into religion with my kids at this point in their young lives.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;The next day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Him:&lt;/strong&gt; "Momma, what's that?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; "It's a cross, it means there's a church there." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Him:&lt;/strong&gt; "Oh, what's a church?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; "It's where people go to learn about Jesus." Change the subject.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Every day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Today he asks, "Why does the church have a cross?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; "Well, it's kind of like there sign. You know, like McDonald's has the golden arches on their sign so you know it's McDonald's?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Him:&lt;/strong&gt; "Ooohhh. Okay."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; "Does that make sense?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Him:&lt;/strong&gt; "Yeah Momma, Church is like McDonald's."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-2327970227807965993?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/2327970227807965993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=2327970227807965993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/2327970227807965993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/2327970227807965993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2007/10/so-every-day-on-way-to-daycare-we-drive.html' title=''/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-3029087538309076361</id><published>2007-09-26T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T11:53:16.900-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='house'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='astrology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cleaning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>Cleaning house...</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, I already started cleaning my house--not just the normal, every day cleaning, the "I'm gutting out the cupboard under the kitchen sink" cleaning...and have a list of stuff I want to get rid of or replace, and then I see my horoscope for this week. (Free Will Astrology.): &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;CANCER (June 21-July 22): Move the furniture around. In&lt;br /&gt;fact, why not move some of it right through the front door and out of your life? If we're lucky, this will get you in the mood to launch a purge of everything that no longer belongs under your roof. Maybe you could throw a Simplification Party, complete with an exorcism. Or corral your friends for a haul-it-all-away caravan to the garbage dump. I don't care how you do it, Cancerian. Just get rid of all knick-knacks, wall hangings, funny mirrors, broken dreams, balls and chains, and formerly cute mementoes that have lost their cuteness. It's time to liberate your home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Replace:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Couch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Kitchen Chairs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Craftsmen shelf in living&lt;br /&gt;room??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Maddie's toddler bed??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Get rid of:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Toys toys and more old kids'&lt;br /&gt;toys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Half the junk in my storage--if I haven't&lt;br /&gt;looked at it in two years, I probably don't need it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ditto for the boxes of ?? in my closet from&lt;br /&gt;when I moved....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Old kids' clothes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Baby stuff (Because Lord knows I'm not&lt;br /&gt;having any more kids!): Crib, car seat, jumpy seat, bouncy seat....who&lt;br /&gt;knows what else in my storage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Clothes that don't fit me anymore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Organize:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Clothes in my room--maybe if I clean my&lt;br /&gt;closet, I can actuallyhang them up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Kitchen cupboards&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Metro shelf in laundry room--if I don't use&lt;br /&gt;it, throw it away, organize what's left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Kids' room...again... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My desk--I'm sure it's under all that other stuff...I think...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My room in general...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My car--I spend 20 hours a week in it, I may as well enjoy it more :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Blahh...now if only I can find some kid-free time when I'm not already at work to get this done :-) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/507798868837047775-3029087538309076361?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/3029087538309076361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=3029087538309076361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/3029087538309076361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/3029087538309076361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2007/09/cleaning-house.html' title='Cleaning house...'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-507798868837047775.post-1465554641194687716</id><published>2007-08-02T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T20:00:14.172-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>Sense of humor, anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/RrKZyonoisI/AAAAAAAAAAc/974Q8PMU3bU/s1600-h/heads+and+tails.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094303223685614274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/RrKZyonoisI/AAAAAAAAAAc/974Q8PMU3bU/s200/heads+and+tails.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, I picked out this t-shirt for my man--which he, of course, loved, and promptly purchased. Last night while wearing the shirt at the gas station, the woman pumping gas next to him gave him a dirty look and huffed at him. He even got a, "Well, I never!" To which, he replied (with a smile), "You know the best part? My girlfriend picked it out!" So she huffed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish I had been there. I would've handed her a quarter.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/507798868837047775-1465554641194687716?l=mssinn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/feeds/1465554641194687716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=507798868837047775&amp;postID=1465554641194687716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/1465554641194687716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/507798868837047775/posts/default/1465554641194687716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mssinn.blogspot.com/2007/08/sense-of-humor-anyone.html' title='Sense of humor, anyone?'/><author><name>ms.sinn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08997594235863813643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/SFMr7QjMfvI/AAAAAAAAACA/jheh-5CJpD4/S220/P5150571.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AuyOA-Ll9g0/RrKZyonoisI/AAAAAAAAAAc/974Q8PMU3bU/s72-c/heads+and+tails.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
