<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972</id><updated>2009-12-20T12:28:21.011-08:00</updated><title type='text'>CaMabigail</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default?orderby=updated'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-5141517640716150205</id><published>2009-05-20T20:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T15:13:20.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Social Media: Crime Fighting 2.0</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;This was originally written not to be read by you but a criminal justice scholar, bear that in mind please.&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our country is in an economic crisis. Various states, including California, are facing law enforcement budget cuts. These cuts lead to layoffs which take law enforcement off the streets, cutting hours, cutting resources and leaving an opening for government to being to appear powerless.[1] When government begins to appear powerless, crime appears to escalate. Would-be criminals of a former time, with the knowledge that less law enforcement agents are on the job, become more brazen and commit crimes. The severity of crimes is doomed to increase. The future of criminal justice in this nation looks bleak. Peter Scharf, a criminologist at Tulane University in New Orleans believes that outsourcing criminal justice to the general public is the answer.[2] Throughout history, law enforcement has relied on the layperson to provide “tips” that provide information for solving murders, robberies, and kidnappings. The popular organization Crime Stoppers USA boasts that the tips its organization has received has lead to 493,369 arrests.[3] Organizations such as these have become more increasingly archaic. Not many people in my generation want to pick up a telephone and wait on hold. We want instant results, instant gratification, and we want to do it on the fly, while we check our emails and text message our friends. Law enforcement agencies around the nation have begun to realize this. With the passing of Meghan’s Law we now receive updates on Highway signs alerting us to be on the lookout for a missing child, often times providing us with a description of the vehicle and/or suspect involved in the kidnapping. We are all advised to call 911 from our cell phones if we spot a drunk driver on the roadways. While these are great examples of law enforcement “getting with the times,” the answer, is to look no further than your own fingers. The most innovative way law enforcement has sought and will continue to seek our assistance is through social media networking sites.[4] &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were all introduced to Social Media years ago with such websites as Myspace[5] and YouTube.[6] Following closely in their footsteps Facebook[7] and Twitter[8] emerged.[9] The Social Media websites allow their users to connect and network with friends, colleagues, former classmates, and people you will never meet outside of the virtual world. Through the use of Twitter Alarms,[10] law enforcement can reach thousands of people within a matter of minutes. In the future, all law enforcement agencies will be online and tweeting to the community at large they have sworn to serve. In less than five years, I predict that social media will be the equivalent to having ten full time detectives and they provide the potential for the layperson to police their own neighborhoods. Future law enforcement officers will rely on the layperson and our societal obsession with social media networking websites. Social media provides a platform that will make reporting crime fast, easy and fun, as well as bonding our communities to take action to prevent and stop crime from happening. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Social media has already proved to be resourceful in solving crimes and in preventing them. In 2006 Canadian police used YouTube to help bring in tips to help solve a murder. The police posted video from a surveillance camera taken at a nightclub where a man was fatally stabbed. After the video was posted and viewed over 30,000 times, the suspect (seen in the surveillance video) turned himself in. Law enforcement in Canada stated that they have “little doubt that the extra media generated by the use of YouTube contributed the fact that [the suspect] turned himself in.”[11] Personally, if I saw a video of myself perpetrating a crime going viral[12] on the internet, I would run to the nearest police station too. It would only be a matter of time before someone else turned you in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was coined the “first Facebook arrest” occurred in New Zealand in January of 2009. The would-be criminal attempted to crack open a safe of the Frankton Arms Tavern. Police in New Zealand posted pictures of the suspect in newspapers and on news websites, to no avail. What ultimately brought the needed tips for identification came from the taverns Facebook Fan Page.[13] Kristen Nicole (2009) a blogger for the website AllFacebook.com believes that Facebook provides a representation of the physical community even outside of the virtual realm, this “ready-made community makes dissemination of information that much easier.” Facebook, like its competitors MySpace, YouTube and Twitter were developed to allow people to connect. However, Facebook has an innovative platform that allows patrons of business to connect via each business’ Fan Page. Those that had become Fans of the tavern no doubt would be able to recognize the picture of the suspect, especially when law enforcement knew it was a crime by someone who knew the place well. As a resident of a small town, I have already become a fan of any business within a ten miles radius, including the local feed store. I can stay in touch with my community without having to venture any further than my computer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through YouTube law enforcement was able to post video of a suspect and in turn prosecute that suspect. Facebook was able to rally patrons of a burglarized tavern and solve the mystery of who the suspect was on the surveillance pictures. While both of those sites provide an invaluable resource to law enforcement, the “buzz” around social media and technology in general is about “real time.” Now more than ever people want to know what is happening the second it happens. Social Media has a new addition that is already making this happen. Welcome, Twitter. In Milwaukee, Wisconsin law enforcement turned to Twitter to help solve a murder that had just occurred. The tweet read: "Latest homicide in the city is NOT a random act. Male, 33, shot in 1500 block N. 39. More details as we have them."[14] Law enforcement has found Twitter to be a useful tool to get “real time” updates to the public. Utilizing Twitter to “to alert people to traffic disruptions, to explain why police are in a certain neighborhood or to offer crime prevention tips.”[15] But law enforcement is also using them for more urgent matters such as bomb scares, wildfires, and school lockdowns. Anne E. Schwartz, a spokesperson for Milwaukee police says the site is a valuable resource to the entire department. The reasoning and logic are simple; Milwaukee police are attempting to disseminate information in a venue where people are already going to get information.[16] &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;USA Today writer John Martin wrote an article on law enforcement’s utilization of social media networking websites. Police in Baltimore have the right attitude when it comes to social media. Baltimore Police spokesman Anthony Guglielmi was quoted in this article as saying “I just think if we put out information like that, it encourages people to reciprocate and contact us with information they might have."[17] It’s not just Baltimore and Milwaukee that have come to understand the crime fighting benefits of these sites. South Dakota’s Public Safety Department, the Police Department in Dalton, Georgia, and even the San Rafael Police Department are on Twitter[18] [19] Social Media is providing a platform that no amount of community outreach can ever hope to. Community outreach in this decade means you have access to a computer or cell phone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Social media is a valuable resource to solving crimes that have already occurred. What about preventing crimes from occurring? With the help of social media, residents in a working-class town of Cudahy, Wisconsin, did just that. Residents began noticing a trend of having their stolen garage door openers and the culprits returning later to steal the contents of their garages, in response, the citizens of Cudahy formed a Neighborhood Watch Group. They armed themselves with flashlights, cell phones, and Twitter. They created Twitter Alarms. With four letters, “BOLO” an acronym for “be on the lookout” instantly alerted the entire neighborhood that suspicious activity was spotted and to be on alert. It took these civilian crime fighters three weeks to effectively deter the garage robbers in their neighborhood.[20] &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Law enforcement around the country has begun to embrace the social media revolution and is using it to fight crime. The future of crime fighting is upon us, through the revolution of social media networking sites. Eventually, all law enforcement agencies will embrace the use of social media in combating crime. An informed public is a public ready to combat crime and help deter it. The general (albeit law abiding) public has an interest, nay - an outright obsession, with keeping safe that which they hold dear. Many feel they now have the tools through social networking websites to help themselves, and everything they hold dear, safe. As I type this inside the safe confine of my own home, I can log into a website and see the entire perimeter of my home streaming live through surveillance cameras. This surveillance video, could, if necessary, greatly assist law enforcement in catching anyone attempting to break into my home. I have active Facebook, MySpace, Twitter and YouTube accounts that I check regularly. At last count, Facebook had over twenty million active users. That doesn’t count the endless businesses that have pages you can become fans of, the groups you can become a part of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These websites provide more information than any informant. Forget about National Crime Databases with mug shots of potential suspects, a quick search of Facebook or MySpace will lead to the intimate details of each of its users, equipped with several different pictures of not only the user but the users friends, family and children. You can find out all of the users favorite places to eat, drink, or hang out. Some users are even brazen enough to post affiliations with gangs or illicit drug use. Social media is the future of crime fighting, but a different type of crime fighting, one that relies on each individual citizen to be accountable, assist law enforcement and warn others in their community of danger. Social Media is Crime Fighting 2.0, the second generation, infused with technology. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Epilogue: I was inspired to write this when I started seeing a slew of tweets on my stream notifying me of a Meghan’s Law alert. Suddenly I didn’t have to be in car to see the highway signs, I could be in the parking lot at work or in the comfort of my home, not that I would do in any good in helping to locate the kidnapped child, but I most certainly could “ReTweet” it in hopes that someone else that could help might see it. I realized then that these social media websites have the potential not only to inform the public at large, but to keep them safe. To potentially save lives, to give the law abiding citizens of this nation the ability to stand up and stop crime. After I read Peter Shrag’s California: America’s High Stakes Experiment I began to realize that we all need to get involved. The solution to crime is community involvement, which social media provides. I honestly believe that social media can and will work for a greater good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-5141517640716150205?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/5141517640716150205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/05/our-country-is-in-economic-crisis.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/5141517640716150205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/5141517640716150205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/05/our-country-is-in-economic-crisis.html' title='Social Media: Crime Fighting 2.0'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-8650817245521869935</id><published>2009-08-25T12:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T12:51:07.429-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When I don't know what to say...</title><content type='html'>Words often fail me, and there is not other way to describe how I feel than to turn to the lyrics of a song...when I don't know what to say I can usually find what I want to say in the lyrics of a song. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Broken this fragile thing now&lt;br /&gt;And I can't, I can't pick up the pieces&lt;br /&gt;And I've thrown my words all around&lt;br /&gt;But I can't, I can't give you a reason&lt;br /&gt;I feel so broken up (so broken up)&lt;br /&gt;And I give up (I give up)&lt;br /&gt;I just want to tell you so you know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you&lt;br /&gt;You are my only one&lt;br /&gt;I let go, but there's just no one who gets me like you do&lt;br /&gt;You are my only, my only one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Made my mistakes, let you down&lt;br /&gt;And I can't, I can't hold on for too long&lt;br /&gt;Ran my whole life in the ground&lt;br /&gt;And I can't, I can't get up when you're gone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And something's breaking up (breaking up)&lt;br /&gt;I feel like giving up (like giving up)&lt;br /&gt;I won't walk out until you know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you&lt;br /&gt;You are my only one&lt;br /&gt;I let go, but there's just no one who gets me like you do&lt;br /&gt;You are my only my only one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I go, so dishonestly leave a note for you my only one, and I know you can see right through me so let me go and you will find someone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hear I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you&lt;br /&gt;You are my only one&lt;br /&gt;I let go, but there`s just no one, no one like you&lt;br /&gt;You are my only, my only one&lt;br /&gt;My only one&lt;br /&gt;You are my only one"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-8650817245521869935?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/8650817245521869935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/08/when-i-dont-know-what-to-say.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/8650817245521869935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/8650817245521869935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/08/when-i-dont-know-what-to-say.html' title='When I don&apos;t know what to say...'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-6668054041304312289</id><published>2009-08-18T15:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T15:25:14.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>This fight is all too familiar&lt;br /&gt;It feels like the million we?ve had before&lt;br /&gt;I don?t see it ending differently&lt;br /&gt;I don?t see you ever being who you promised me &lt;br /&gt;you would be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried. I failed. &lt;br /&gt;I can?t keep it together&lt;br /&gt;You want me to change&lt;br /&gt;I tried ? I changed. &lt;br /&gt;And now you don?t like the real me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I sit with all this regret&lt;br /&gt;With all this pain&lt;br /&gt;Hoping it?s not contagious&lt;br /&gt;That it won?t spread to them &lt;br /&gt;Because they deserve better&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don?t get to love me just because I left&lt;br /&gt;The only fear you have&lt;br /&gt;Is being alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-6668054041304312289?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/6668054041304312289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/08/untitled.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/6668054041304312289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/6668054041304312289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/08/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-1820517927613373961</id><published>2009-08-18T13:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T13:54:38.117-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trust</title><content type='html'>They say that trust has to be earned.  Earned how exactly? By loving someone unconditionally? By being there and being supportive of them every step of the way? But what if the same person that you love unconditionally will NEVER trust you? What if you trusted them completely only to be told you are untrustworthy? What would you do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-1820517927613373961?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/1820517927613373961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/08/trust.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/1820517927613373961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/1820517927613373961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/08/trust.html' title='Trust'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-8375776192918990510</id><published>2009-07-24T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T17:01:06.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back on the table...</title><content type='html'>I have deliberated for years on whether or not being a Paralegal/Legal Assistant/Litigation Assistant  was really what I wanted to do.  I wasn’t sure if this was something I chose because it appeared to be lucrative, or if I really truly enjoyed doing what I do.  I needed to answer this question before I could answer the more pressing question, which was, do I really want to take this as far as it will go, or do I need to choose something else?  &lt;br /&gt; I’ve had loads of people tell me that this is what I was meant to do, born to do.  I’ll admit that part of the reason I like is because it comes so easily to me.  I’ll admit that part of the daily grind is endless reading followed by even more endless regurgitation of information, both in written and verbal formats.  When I first declared my major in college, I immediately immersed myself in the first internship I could find, and I loved every minute I spent at that internship, I loved that I was helping people.  I knew right away that I would have to go into Plaintiffs work.  I had to fight for what was right.  Well that only lasted less than a year.  I realized that most “Plaintiffs” are milking the system and the ones that are truly, honestly hurt or damaged usually get nothing, or little to nothing.  So began my career in defense work, I was immediately engaged.  No longer did I dread going into work, but initially I thought it was only because I bored so easily, so easily.  I also thought that part of the problem was that the Plaintiffs office I worked in was it’s own particular brand of hell.  Filled with a few kind, warm faces, however overshadowed by wretched, egomaniacal, lazy untrustworthy snakes.  &lt;br /&gt; So my journey took me to challenges I never thought I’d see, I met a slew of wonderful people along the way.  To my disdain, the more I talked to people who had taken their careers “all the way” were miserable.  Instead of the sing-song encouragement of “you should go to Law School.”  I heard “Don’t do it!” paired with a few “I can’t believe I actually paid this much to be this miserable.”  I started to believe that I would never be happy as an attorney.  I started to believe everyone regretted the decision to go to law school, only to be stuck in a career they hate.  I decided right then that I would never go to law school, I would not be that miserable.  Besides, law school was always a pipe dream, one in which I am sure if I was ever able to actually do it, I would go into so much debt I’d never ever be able to have any amount of worth period.  But recently this has all changed...&lt;br /&gt; Most of you know my career path took a huge detour, when I accepted a position as a Legal Secretary to spend more time with the kids, but after only working there a little over three months, I was already performing duties well beyond a Legal Secretary (although I am quickly learning that some Legal Secretaries do it all, Litigation Coordination, Paralegal, Secretarial work - I mean they do it all).  So as I work more and more here at this firm, I am realizing something - not all attorneys are miserable, some really enjoy what they do for a living – so maybe I could to.  I’m not running out to apply just yet, but the option is definitely back on the table.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-8375776192918990510?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/8375776192918990510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/07/back-on-table.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/8375776192918990510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/8375776192918990510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/07/back-on-table.html' title='Back on the table...'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-4261465101125758368</id><published>2009-07-09T20:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T14:25:11.829-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bananas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Disclaimer: I usually don't post anything that I haven't fact checked - but I have been putting off this post for too long now.  And I promised Mizpah [ @MizpahMijares ] I would post it months ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fully expect some comments - maybe some debunking the facts in this posting or maybe even some validating them.  Here it is:&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A professor at the City College Of New York(CCNY) for a physiological psych class told his class about bananas.  He said the expression "going bananas" is from the effects of bananas on the brain.&lt;br /&gt;Read on:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never, put your banana in the refrigerator!&lt;br /&gt;This is interesting.&lt;br /&gt;After reading this, you'll never look at a banana in the same way again.&lt;br /&gt;Bananas contain three natural sugars - sucrose, fructose and glucose combined with fiber. A banana gives an instant, sustained and substantial boost of energy.&lt;br /&gt;Research has proven that just two bananas provide enough energy for a strenuous 90-minute workout. No wonder the banana is the number one fruit with the world's leading athletes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But energy isn't the only way a banana can help us keep fit. It can also help overcome or prevent a substantial number of illnesses and conditions, making it a must to add to our daily diet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sla7jJ1YOMI/AAAAAAAAAXM/Typhb7VYQCM/s1600-h/b4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sla7jJ1YOMI/AAAAAAAAAXM/Typhb7VYQCM/s320/b4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356675019413403842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depression: According to a recent survey undertaken by MIND amongst people suffering from depression, many felt much better after eating a banana. This is because bananas contain tryptophan, a type of protein that the body converts into serotonin, known to make you relax, improve your mood and generally make you feel happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PMS: Forget the pills - eat a banana. The vitamin B6 it contains regulates blood glucose levels, which can affect your mood.&lt;br /&gt;Anemia: High in iron, bananas can stimulate the production of hemoglobin in the blood and so helps in cases of anemia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blood Pressure: This unique tropical fruit is extremely high in potassium yet low in salt, making it perfect to beat blood pressure, so much so, the US Food and Drug Administration has just allowed the banana industry to make official claims for the fruit's ability to reduce the risk of blood pressure and stroke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brain Power: 200 students at a Twickenham (Middlesex) school ( England ) were helped through their exams this year by eating bananas at breakfast, break, and lunch in a bid to boost their brain power. Research has shown that the potassium-packed fruit can assist learning by making pupils more alert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Constipation: High in fiber, including bananas in the diet can help restore normal bowel action, helping to overcome the problem without resorting to laxatives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hangovers: One of the quickest ways of curing a hangover is to make a banana milkshake, sweetened with honey. The banana calms the stomach and, with the help of the honey, builds up depleted blood sugar levels, while the milk soothes and re-hydrates your system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heartburn: Bananas have a natural antacid effect in the body, so if you suffer from heartburn, try eating a banana for soothing relief.&lt;br /&gt;Morning Sickness: Snacking on bananas between meals helps to keep blood sugar levels up and avoid morning sickness.&lt;br /&gt;Mosquito bites: Before reaching for the insect bite cream, try rubbing the affected area with the inside of a banana skin. Many people find it amazingly successful at reducing swelling and irritation.&lt;br /&gt;Nerves: Bananas are high in B vitamins that help calm the nervous system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overweight and at work? Studies at the Institute of Psychology in Austria found pressure at work leads to gorging on comfort food like chocolate and chips. Looking at 5,000 hospital patients, researchers found the most obese were more likely to be in high-pressure jobs. The report concluded that, to avoid panic-induced food cravings, we need to control our blood sugar levels by snacking on high carbohydrate foods every two hours to keep levels steady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ulcers: The banana is used as the dietary food against intestinal disorders because of its soft texture and smoothness. It is the only raw fruit that can be eaten without distress in over-chronicler cases. It also neutralizes over-acidity and reduces irritation by coating the lining of the stomach.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Temperature control: Many other cultures see bananas as a "cooling" fruit that can lower both the physical and emotional temperature of expectant mothers. In Thailand , for example, pregnant women eat bananas to ensure their baby is born with a cool temperature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sla7VgyUsBI/AAAAAAAAAXE/qBzR_LSsMow/s1600-h/b1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sla7VgyUsBI/AAAAAAAAAXE/qBzR_LSsMow/s320/b1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356674785056436242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD): Bananas can help SAD sufferers because they contain the natural mood enhancer tryptophan.&lt;br /&gt;Smoking &amp;Tobacco Use: Bananas can also help people trying to give up smoking. The B6, B12 they contain, as well as the potassium and magnesium found in them, help the body recover from the effects of nicotine withdrawal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stress: Potassium is a vital mineral, which helps normalize the heartbeat, sends oxygen to the brain and regulates your body's water balance. When we are stressed, our metabolic rate rises, thereby reducing our potassium levels. These can be rebalanced with the help of a high-potassium banana snack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strokes: According to research in The New England Journal of Medicine, eating bananas as part of a regular diet can cut the risk of death by strokes by as much as 40%!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warts: Those keen on natural alternatives swear that if you want to kill off a wart, take a piece of banana skin and place it on the wart, with the yellow side out. Carefully hold the skin in place with a plaster or surgical tape!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, a banana really is a natural remedy for many ills. When you compare it to an apple, it has four times the protein, twice the carbohydrate, three times the phosphorus, five times the vitamin A and iron, and twice the other vitamins and minerals. It is also rich in potassium and is one of the best value foods around So maybe its time to change that well-known phrase so that we say, "A banana a day keeps the doctor away!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PASS IT ON TO YOUR FRIENDS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: Bananas must be the reason monkeys are so happy all the time! I will add one here; want a quick shine on your shoes?? Take the INSIDE of the banana skin, and rub directly on the shoe...polish with dry cloth. Amazing fruit!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-4261465101125758368?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/4261465101125758368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/07/bananas.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/4261465101125758368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/4261465101125758368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/07/bananas.html' title='Bananas'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sla7jJ1YOMI/AAAAAAAAAXM/Typhb7VYQCM/s72-c/b4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-4645716775659107087</id><published>2009-03-18T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T12:00:50.129-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update on Gams!</title><content type='html'>I accidently went to tan and had only brought my bottle of Gourgeous Gams.  I wasn't about to pay full retail price for another sample packet so I just used it all over my entire body.  I look like I just walked off a beach in Tahiti.  Seriously, it worked great everywhere!  I might just switch altogether.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-4645716775659107087?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/4645716775659107087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/update-on-gams.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/4645716775659107087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/4645716775659107087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/update-on-gams.html' title='Update on Gams!'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-6725397023361718636</id><published>2009-03-04T17:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T17:48:59.549-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The big repair...update!</title><content type='html'>Have I told you all what a genius I married?  Seriously -- my husband is a genius!  He fixed my iPhone so well that it looks like it never was broken!  Thank you Hon!  You're brilliant!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-6725397023361718636?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/6725397023361718636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/big-repairupdate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/6725397023361718636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/6725397023361718636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/big-repairupdate.html' title='The big repair...update!'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-6095653975737141592</id><published>2009-02-28T17:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T17:42:56.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So If you haven't heard, Jason's iPhone got stolen along with all sorts of personal information...now this...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sb2gUSphb9I/AAAAAAAAAV8/0D6fyGHRVzg/s1600-h/Fcuk3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sb2gUSphb9I/AAAAAAAAAV8/0D6fyGHRVzg/s320/Fcuk3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313579405830877138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how did it happen?...long story short I dropped my keys on the ground when I bent over to pick them up it fell out of my purse and onto my porch...screen first of course.  Good news is that unlike Jason I won't have to pay 480 bucks to get a replacement.  The LCD is still good so I can just get the glass repaired for 80 bucks.  If that doesn't work then the beautiful people at Apple said they would "give" me a new one at a discounted rate ($200).  How generous.  So for all of you that text me, email, call me etc.  I won't be responding as quickly...until the glass is fixed (hopefully Tuesday).  I don't want to tempt fate and wind up with my LCD scratched or broken (a $200 fix by the way).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-6095653975737141592?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/6095653975737141592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-if-you-havent-heard-jasons-iphone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/6095653975737141592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/6095653975737141592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-if-you-havent-heard-jasons-iphone.html' title=''/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sb2gUSphb9I/AAAAAAAAAV8/0D6fyGHRVzg/s72-c/Fcuk3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-1514509331389652985</id><published>2009-03-10T17:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T17:33:30.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That's Boke!</title><content type='html'>Boke (adj.) [bouhk]:  you know when you put on the sunglasses and then you smelly and it’s nasty that is boke.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think I’m crazy yet?  My daughter let me in on this new hip and trendy word.  All the kids at the nursery are saying it.  Maybe you still don’t get it…let me provide you with a few examples she laid on my just today:&lt;br /&gt;“That smell boke!”&lt;br /&gt;“Momma, the boke is nasty!” &lt;br /&gt;“That’s boke!”&lt;br /&gt;Still don’t get it?  Neither do I.  But it apparently is the next generations favorite slang word.  What does it mean?  I’m guessing it derived from broke…maybe joke, smoke, or coke.  I let you know if I ever figure it out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-1514509331389652985?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/1514509331389652985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/thats-boke.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/1514509331389652985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/1514509331389652985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/thats-boke.html' title='That&apos;s Boke!'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-1369935475729312221</id><published>2006-09-19T15:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T15:40:08.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wake up Call</title><content type='html'>The squeals and shrill cry woke me - startled me out of my slumber. A common occurrence, normal on a weekend morning when the first to wake isn't the alarm clock. These sounds weren't coming from my daughter today, they were coming from our phone. The LAN line we keep at my insistence has caused us to wake not once not twice, but three times last night and this morning. Who would dare call a midnight, three a.m., or even six a.m. on a Sunday? "Tilton Pac Construction" the caller id reads. Considering the disruption the least that I would expect is a breathy caller asking me what I'm wearing - but no. Instead the piercing sound of a fax attempting to transmit echos through the receiver until you hang up. I would change my number if it wasn't so easy to memorize.&lt;br /&gt;So until we can figure out something else, our phone will be turned off at night, or at least the ringer will be off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-1369935475729312221?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/1369935475729312221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/wake-up-call.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/1369935475729312221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/1369935475729312221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/wake-up-call.html' title='Wake up Call'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-7301921186584555496</id><published>2006-09-30T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T15:33:26.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Copious Free Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The scene is the same, day after mind-numbing day. A innocent request as it may be, the obligitory albiet minial low-priority task seems at that point to loose every last bit of purpose when prefaced with "&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sb2Btk4gwwI/AAAAAAAAAVc/prGnFc1pQY4/s1600-h/atwt2000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313545755361854210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 152px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sb2Btk4gwwI/AAAAAAAAAVc/prGnFc1pQY4/s200/atwt2000.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...in your copious free time.." I honestly can't help but smilee at the blantant attempt to make light of the fact that we are saturated.&lt;br /&gt;Throughout &lt;a href="http://www.csuchico.edu/" target="_parent"&gt;college,&lt;/a&gt; I'll admit now that I had &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sb1_j8Uw7_I/AAAAAAAAAVE/Bz2QsB0BjkI/s1600-h/atwt2000.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;quite a lot of copious free time. Ask me about it then and I would have told you I didn't have any free time. I couldn't possibly find the time to do everything, but I find myself wishing I had that problem now. I just couldn't seem to find the time to go to class, &lt;a href="http://www.csuchico.edu/clic" target="_self"&gt;intern&lt;/a&gt;, deal with the necessary and obligatory studying, write that term paper and make it t the bars every night and catch all my favorite day time soaps.   This life seems so selfish to me now. And o&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sb2B7AkFKKI/AAAAAAAAAVk/JPIv0GZemvk/s1600-h/Myspace_Facebook.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313545986130651298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 154px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sb2B7AkFKKI/AAAAAAAAAVk/JPIv0GZemvk/s200/Myspace_Facebook.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;f course, now , looking back I can't believe I didn't better use of my time. Copious free time of course, being as it may, is as unattainable currently as the coveted law degree I have chased the last 10 years of my life. The truth about copious free time is we all spend it here- on the internet, some of us while at work, and other like myself, only after the baby is asleep and only if I myself aren't exhausted. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-7301921186584555496?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/7301921186584555496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2006/09/copious-free-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/7301921186584555496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/7301921186584555496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2006/09/copious-free-time.html' title='Copious Free Time'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sb2Btk4gwwI/AAAAAAAAAVc/prGnFc1pQY4/s72-c/atwt2000.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-1899567208791540973</id><published>2008-01-17T17:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T15:12:28.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Heart of the Matter</title><content type='html'>My words fail me today...I'll leave it to Don Henley to help me out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Heart Of The Matter&lt;br /&gt;Don Henley&lt;br /&gt;I got the call today, I didn't wanna hear&lt;br /&gt;But I knew that it would come&lt;br /&gt;An old true friend of ours was talkin' on the phone&lt;br /&gt;She said you found someone&lt;br /&gt;And I thought of all the bad luck,&lt;br /&gt;And all the struggles we went through&lt;br /&gt;How I lost me and you lost you&lt;br /&gt;What are these voices outside love's open door&lt;br /&gt;Make us throw off our contentment&lt;br /&gt;And beg for something more?&lt;br /&gt;I've been learning to live without you nowB&lt;br /&gt;ut I miss you sometimes&lt;br /&gt;The more I know, the less I understand&lt;br /&gt;All the things I thought I knew, I'm learning them again&lt;br /&gt;I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter&lt;br /&gt;But my will gets weak&lt;br /&gt;And my thoughts seem to scatterB&lt;br /&gt;ut I think it's about forgiveness&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness&lt;br /&gt;Even if, even if you don't love me anymore&lt;br /&gt;These times are so uncertain&lt;br /&gt;There's a yearning undefined&lt;br /&gt;And people filled with rage&lt;br /&gt;We all need a little tenderness&lt;br /&gt;How can love survive in such a graceless age&lt;br /&gt;And the trust and self-assurance that lead to happiness&lt;br /&gt;They're the very things we kill, I guess&lt;br /&gt;Pride and competition cannot fill these empty arms&lt;br /&gt;And the work they put between us,You know it doesn't keep us warm&lt;br /&gt;I've been trying to live without you now&lt;br /&gt;But I miss you, baby&lt;br /&gt;The more I know, the less I understand&lt;br /&gt;And all the things I thought I figured out, I have to learn again&lt;br /&gt;I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter&lt;br /&gt;But my will gets weak&lt;br /&gt;And my heart is so shattered&lt;br /&gt;But I think it's about forgiveness&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness&lt;br /&gt;Even if, even if you don't love me anymore&lt;br /&gt;All the people in your life who've come and gone&lt;br /&gt;They let you down, you know they hurt your pride&lt;br /&gt;Better put it all behind you; cause life goes on&lt;br /&gt;You keep carrin' that anger, it'll eat you up inside&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be happily everafter&lt;br /&gt;And my heart is so shattered&lt;br /&gt;But I know it's about forgiveness&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness&lt;br /&gt;Even if, even if you don't love me anymore&lt;br /&gt;I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter&lt;br /&gt;Because the flesh will get weak&lt;br /&gt;And the ashes will scatter&lt;br /&gt;So I'm thinkin' about forgiveness&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness&lt;br /&gt;Even if you don't love me anymore&lt;br /&gt;Even if you don't love me anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't have said is any better. Thank you Mr. Henley.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-1899567208791540973?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/1899567208791540973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/heart-of-matter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/1899567208791540973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/1899567208791540973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/heart-of-matter.html' title='The Heart of the Matter'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-6795000152726579676</id><published>2007-08-01T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T15:06:02.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This broad is...a woo girl</title><content type='html'>Stolen...Originally written by Lindsey Grossman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woo Girls get a bad rap. You've read about them in Scene &amp;amp; Herd spotted them in The City cartoons, or maybe you've experienced their zest for life first-hand. This subculture of women is said to migrate in packs from bar to bar on a mission to let the world know that you can take the girl out of the sorority, but you can't take the sorority out of the girl. People cross the street when they see these girls stumbling down the sidewalk toward them and never take the time to get to know the woman behind the "Woo!" I was in a sorority and I admit that I, too, am prone to the occasional "Woo!" when I'm out drinking with the ladies. I'm well aware that I'm no longer in college, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to hang up my shot glass to become one of those intellectual coffee drinkers who hates the rest of the world almost as much as they hate themselves. I still like to get drunk on purpose for no reason whatsoever. And when I do, you may hear a "Woo!" I'm not depressed, nor do I have any underlying insecurities that I'm trying to drown out. Sometimes, it's fun to get wasted. This doesn't make me stupid, shallow, boy-crazy or "blonde." I'm just lettin' loose and havin' a good time. Of course there's more to a Woo Girl's vocabulary than that 3-letter expletive. Many of us went to prominent universities and have gone on to have successful careers. You may even work alongside a Woo Girl and not even know it. I'm not going to jump up and down and shout "Woo!" in my co-worker's ear while waiting to use the fax machine. But put me in a cheesy club with Outkast's "Hey Ya!" blasting out the speakers and that's another story. Even Woo Girls know that there's a time and a place to "Woo!" Here are some "Woo!" worthy moments:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/SbxusgoycuI/AAAAAAAAAUs/vXlkfge_T8U/s1600-h/CarBomb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313243371344655074" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/SbxusgoycuI/AAAAAAAAAUs/vXlkfge_T8U/s320/CarBomb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. After you've taken a shot: Specifically a Jaeger bomb, Irish car bomb or any other "chugging shot." If you can finish one of these without puking, you deserve some self-recognition.&lt;br /&gt;2. You run into a friend at a bar: It doesn't matter if you saw her every day for the past week or if you haven't seen her in years. It's still a big freakin' deal. Innocent bystanders, beware of getting in the way of this joyous reunion or you could end up with a puncture wound from a pink stiletto heel.&lt;br /&gt;3. The DJ plays your favorite song: Or your second favorite song. Or pretty much any song that you know all of the words to. It's like kismet that he played the exact song you wanted to hear right when you wanted to hear it. You now have to drag your girlfriends onto the dance floor with you to celebrate this cosmic event (this usually involves a group "Woo!"). If there's not a dance floor, just dance in the middle of the bar. People won't mind making room for your posse. If they do mind, it's OK -- you're too drunk to notice.&lt;br /&gt;4. Someone shares a juicy piece of gossip: Sara Kate is engaged. Ann Marie is pregnant (on purpose). Mary Elizabeth got dumped (we "Woo!" because she's a bitch and deserved it). All of this good news requires a shot, which leads to another "Woo!" (see number one).&lt;br /&gt;5. Using the "Woo!" to woo: Nothing attracts a fratastic Patagonia-sporting guy like a girl who's even more loud and obnoxious than he is. Once the sweet sound of the woo girl mating call pierces his ears, he's sure to sidle up next to you and offer to buy you a Bud Light, or a Michelob Ultra if you're counting carbs.&lt;br /&gt;6. Just for the hell of it: Every girl must make this decision on her own. The bar might be too quiet and you're too drunk and bored to be in such a civilized establishment -- why not stir things up? It's a total judgment (or lack of judgment) call. Woo-ing is as innate for some girls as accessorizing is for others. And-- wouldn't you know it? -- some of us are blessed with both traits. For instance, nothing goes better with a "Woo!" than hoop earrings and a David Yurman (I say Tiffany's) bracelet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-6795000152726579676?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/6795000152726579676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-broad-isa-woo-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/6795000152726579676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/6795000152726579676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-broad-isa-woo-girl.html' title='This broad is...a woo girl'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/SbxusgoycuI/AAAAAAAAAUs/vXlkfge_T8U/s72-c/CarBomb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-8754030315639050168</id><published>2007-08-02T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T20:21:36.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I heart you Mike Shinoda!</title><content type='html'>Linkin Park sums up my feelings on the current administration&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turn my mic up louder&lt;br /&gt;I got to say something.&lt;br /&gt;Lightweights step it aside when we come in&lt;br /&gt;Feel it in your chest, the syllables get pumping&lt;br /&gt;People on the street they panic and start running.&lt;br /&gt;Words on loose leaf sheet complete coming.&lt;br /&gt;I jump in my mind and summon the rhyme I'm dumping.&lt;br /&gt;Healing the blind I promise to let the sun in&lt;br /&gt;Sick of the dark ways we march to the drum and&lt;br /&gt;Jump when they tell us that they wanna to see jumping.&lt;br /&gt;F**k that, I wanna see some fist pumping.&lt;br /&gt;risk something, take back what's yours&lt;br /&gt;say something that you know they might attack you for&lt;br /&gt;cause I'm sick of being treated like I have before&lt;br /&gt;like it's stupid standing for what I'm standing for.&lt;br /&gt;Like this war's really just a different brand of war.&lt;br /&gt;Like it doesn't cater to rich and abandon poor.&lt;br /&gt;Like they understand you in the back of the jet, when you&lt;br /&gt;can't put gas in your tank, and these f**kers are&lt;br /&gt;laughing their way to the bank, cashing the check&lt;br /&gt;asking you to have compassion, AND have SOME respect&lt;br /&gt;for a leader so nervous in an obvious way&lt;br /&gt;Stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay&lt;br /&gt;and the rest of the world watching at the end of the day&lt;br /&gt;in the living room laughing like "what did he say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my living room watching, I am not laughing,&lt;br /&gt;Cause when it gets tense I know what might happen&lt;br /&gt;The world is cold, the bold men take action&lt;br /&gt;have to react or get blown into fractions.&lt;br /&gt;Ten years old, it's something to see,&lt;br /&gt;another kid my age drug under a jeep,&lt;br /&gt;taken and bound, and found later under a tree,&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if he had thought the next one could be me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you see, the soldiers, they're out today they&lt;br /&gt;Brush the dust from bulletproof vests away.&lt;br /&gt;It's ironic, at times like this you pray,&lt;br /&gt;but a bomb blew the mosque up yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;There's bombs on the buses, bikes, roads,&lt;br /&gt;inside your market,your shops, your clothes,&lt;br /&gt;My dad, He's got a lot of fear I know&lt;br /&gt;but enough pride inside not to let that show.&lt;br /&gt;My brother had a book he would hold with pride&lt;br /&gt;A little red cover with a broken spine.&lt;br /&gt;On the back, he hand wrote a quote inside:&lt;br /&gt;"when the rich wage war, it's the poor who die"&lt;br /&gt;And meanwhile, the leader just talks away&lt;br /&gt;Stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay&lt;br /&gt;and the rest of the world watching at the end of the day&lt;br /&gt;both scared and angry like "what did he say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With hands held high into a sky so blue&lt;br /&gt;as the ocean opens up to swallow you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With hands held high into a sky so blue&lt;br /&gt;as the ocean opens up to swallow you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With hands held high into a sky so blue&lt;br /&gt;as the ocean opens up to swallow you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With hands held high into a sky so blue&lt;br /&gt;as the ocean opens up to swallow you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With hands held high into a sky so blue&lt;br /&gt;as the ocean opens up to swallow you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With hands held high into a sky so blue&lt;br /&gt;as the ocean opens up to swallow you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-8754030315639050168?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/8754030315639050168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/turn-my-mic-up-louder-i-got-to-say.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/8754030315639050168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/8754030315639050168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/turn-my-mic-up-louder-i-got-to-say.html' title='I heart you Mike Shinoda!'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-4294375281947143641</id><published>2007-06-11T20:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T20:14:11.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>B&amp;E!</title><content type='html'>For those of you law-abiding citizens that have no idea what a B&amp;amp;e is, it is slang for Breaking &amp;amp; Entering. I admit it! I am guilty and breaking and entering. Well, I suppose you have me on a technicality because I can't press charges on myself, I cannot be a victim of myself. So technically I was a victim of my circumstance. I have sat and pondered, circumstantial evidence can often land you in behind bars, proclaiming your innocence to the world. Can a circumstance that lands you in a position where you are forced to break into your home technically be against the law?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason was out of town, the kids where away, Brandon had been turned over to the wretched woman that is his biological mother, and Katelyn was spending some much needed Grandma time. I suddenly found myself with no obligation, no company, and nothing to do. Freedom. Don't get me wrong, my daily life with my husband and kids in no prison sentence, but for the next twelve hours, I didn't have to take care of anyone or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three hours later I found myself in the back seat of a Jeep Cherokee, packed to capacity with giggly twenty something women. The other women in my Jeep were not married, do not have children, so either my excitement for an inpromptu girls night our was infectious or they were just as excited as to drown the previous week in the bottom of a bottle of Vodka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving down the country road, the one main one in my tiny town, I realized I didn't have my ID! Damnitt! So we turn around and head back to my vacant home. I jump out of the car and sprint towards the door, I put my key in the lock, unlock my front door and push...and push again and turn the knob. Fuck! The bottom lock got locked. By this time, everyone has excited the car. "Did someone lock the bottom lock?" Sure as hell my Bella had locked me out of my own house! To her credit, she had no idea, she was just trying to help. But I was on a mission and I was going to go out. So that is when I decided I would have commit a B&amp;amp;E! What happens next is pure comedy.&lt;br /&gt;We decide the best way to B&amp;amp;E is to enter through the bathroom window, I had accidentally left it unlocked. I knew the alarm would go off...but hey I have the code...right? The girls one by one try to boost me up to the window, and when that doesn't work one of them decides we need to make human pyramid. In that messy chaos I decide to wander to my barn and get a ladder. I come back to three girls sprawled out on my front lawn all belly aching about some ailment. As I understand it, the human pyramid did not go well.&lt;br /&gt;So there I am...up on a ladder trying to get my ass through a bathroom window. I get through and fall bringing down all sorts of shampoos, conditioners, and body washes. I also manage to land sideways on my ankle. Ouch! Oh well, I decide the best medicine for my injured ankle is that promised bottle of Vodka.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-4294375281947143641?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/4294375281947143641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2007/06/b.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/4294375281947143641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/4294375281947143641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2007/06/b.html' title='B&amp;E!'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-641535091894780153</id><published>2009-03-12T22:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T19:49:43.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sun Worshipper</title><content type='html'>The sun has finally started shining and I had forgotten how much I missed it!  Perhaps because I have spent the better part of the winter escaping the rain and cold in the solace of an indoor tanning bed.  If you've seen me lately, I know what you're thinking.  "But you aren't tan!"  Turns out all my trips to the tanning salon have really been just a mood booster.  I have gotten zero color.  So three weeks ago I resolved to fix this!  After consulting with my fellow sun worshippers I decided a change in accelerators was in order.  I have to go on record as saying I love tanning lotion.  Seriously, just another excuse to but yet another product.  I also just love lotion period.  I apply lotion daily head to &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sbn3g6i4ONI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/WQ3flxDjRqQ/s1600-h/GoldenCeremony.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 204px; height: 204px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sbn3g6i4ONI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/WQ3flxDjRqQ/s320/GoldenCeremony.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312549380303632594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;toe and sometimes more than once a day.  I go in spurts...Figi, Australian Gold, California Tan, now I am in love with Designer Skin.  I started using it because a large portion of their lotion contain silicone, what they call a "silicone emulsion."  I used Believe when I tanned at the peeping tom salon over on La Riveria (more about that another time) I started using Spellbound because prior to actually tanning it smells a lot like Ralph Lauren Romance.  Well obviously it wasn't working.  So I tried something the bronzed, rail-thin, drop-dead gorgeous gal behind the recommended.  Specifically made to get you to a fast-acting bronzed glow for a special occasion.  It's called Golden Ceremony.  The best part of this lotion is that it smells so good post-tan, ds calls this scent Summer Starfruit and I can atest to the summer part, however I'm not so sure what starfruit is.  Unlike the Spellbound that does not smell so good once you've tanned (or maybe it's just me).  When I told her that my legs never tan she was kind enough to recomme&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sbn3wDi7UOI/AAAAAAAAAUY/mz8v3_Htxug/s1600-h/GorgeousGams.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 201px; height: 201px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sbn3wDi7UOI/AAAAAAAAAUY/mz8v3_Htxug/s320/GorgeousGams.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312549640417792226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;nd a sassy hot pink bottle with an even sassier name  Gorgeous Gams.  It smells okay, DS calls this particular scent candied fig.  And aside from the glitter, yes they put glitter in it, stripperrific! I love it!  Gorgeous Gams works just as they said it would.  My legs are finally getting color. Yippee.  Now the bad part, I came home to research if Gams came without the stripperific glitter only to find I could buy it online at half the price that I just paid!  Damn!  Don't make my mistake, I know I will be purchasing Golden Ceremony online, maybe here: http://megatanninglotionstore.com/designer-skin.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-641535091894780153?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/641535091894780153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/foursun-worshipper.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/641535091894780153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/641535091894780153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/foursun-worshipper.html' title='Sun Worshipper'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/Sbn3g6i4ONI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/WQ3flxDjRqQ/s72-c/GoldenCeremony.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-2516236915037885983</id><published>2009-03-09T14:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T19:49:26.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;“The truth is rarely pure and never simple.”&lt;br /&gt;--Oscar Wilde, in The Importance of Being Earnest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Catching someone in a lie comes easy to the trained and quick witted.  I am neither of those.  However, I am gullible and overly trusting.  To this day I am shocked when people are caught in lies.  We all tell them.  I lie about a few choice things: my weight, my age, and well I guess I should stop there.  When does a lie cross into the threshold of no longer being harmless?  I am a terrible liar, I giggle nervously, pause or over-explain, I can’t just lie, and it’s written on all over my face.  My husband knows the minute I lie, or even omit certain facts.  So why do I even do it?  Are lies more convenient?  Do they make us feel better?  Safer?  The truth is never simple; the truth is never “the whole truth.”  We omit certain things, cut it down to a reader’s digest version, and viola! our version of the truth emerges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After working in the legal industry for over eight years, I can say that a person is more likely to lie to you than they are to tell the truth.  I have witnessed incredible feats of lying.  I’m sure you don’t find this surprising…what is surprising is that I never see it coming.  I honestly believe that if someone would go as far as to initiate litigation they have a viable, and honest claim.  Enter gullible!  You would think that I would become immune to it…that I would be skeptical.  I don’t operate that way, I lie to myself (which is probably the worse lie to tell) and believe that people are generally good and honest.  Why would anyone try to profit from lies?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-2516236915037885983?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/2516236915037885983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/threethe-truth-whole-truth-and-nothing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/2516236915037885983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/2516236915037885983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/threethe-truth-whole-truth-and-nothing.html' title='The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.&quot;'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-7461563989147649788</id><published>2009-03-06T21:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T19:49:01.243-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An update of sorts</title><content type='html'>Thirty things I want to do before I turn 30:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.     Run a marathon completely in less than nine hours.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  Haven't starting training yet.&lt;br /&gt;2.     Take a trip to Vegas.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: Planned.&lt;br /&gt;3.     Write a complete fiction novel.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: Oh I need to start this.&lt;br /&gt;4.     Decide what I want to be when I grow up.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: Not yet.&lt;br /&gt;5.     See Paris at Sunset.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  I think it's Egypt now.&lt;br /&gt;6.      Watch the sun set in Maui with my husband and my children.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: Wow 0 for 6&lt;br /&gt;7.     Read the entire Jodi Picoult collection.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  I'm half way done.&lt;br /&gt;8.     Spend a week in New York.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: Ugg!&lt;br /&gt;9.     Obtain a higher degree.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: One semester away.&lt;br /&gt;10.   Remodel my home.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: Not happening.&lt;br /&gt;11.   Convert to Catholicism.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  Oh I got this one!  Not officially but I am doing Lent.&lt;br /&gt;12.   Start my own website, have my own website.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  Umm does this count?&lt;br /&gt;13.   Volunteer for a campaign I believe in.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  I did this one!&lt;br /&gt;14.   Be able to Google my name and find an article which depicts me as a courageous humanitarian.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  Maybe 40&lt;br /&gt;15.   Sky dive with my husband.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: planned.&lt;br /&gt;16.   Achieve and maintain my ideal weight for two years.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: Ideal...ha!&lt;br /&gt;17.   Get 100% out of debt.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  When I wrote this list our economy was not in the crapper, crossing this one off my list for good.&lt;br /&gt;18.   Teach my daughter to read.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: We are working on it.&lt;br /&gt;19.   Learn the game of soccer.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: Did it!&lt;br /&gt;20.   Grow a vineyard in my back acre.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  Irrigation in.&lt;br /&gt;21.   Learn to speak fluent Russian.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: none&lt;br /&gt;22.    Come to terms with and accept myself for who I am completely and whole heartedly.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  I think I am almost there.&lt;br /&gt;23.    Redo my wedding photographs.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  Can't find them.&lt;br /&gt;24.    Learn to Scrapbook.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  I'm so over this.&lt;br /&gt;25.   Take my mother on a vacation to an island.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  I really need to do this one.&lt;br /&gt;26.   Take a hot air balloon ride.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  What a dreamer I was.&lt;br /&gt;27.   Teach my daughter the importance of giving back.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: Successful!  She is such a giving person.&lt;br /&gt;28.   Teach my daughter how to laugh at yourself and keep you dignity.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  Done!&lt;br /&gt;29.   Find my purpose in life.&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:  I found it:  My daughter.&lt;br /&gt;30.   Create a foundation for the next thirty years&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: I'm not sure what I meant by this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-7461563989147649788?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/7461563989147649788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/twoan-update-of-sorts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/7461563989147649788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/7461563989147649788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/twoan-update-of-sorts.html' title='An update of sorts'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-8936587300099448602</id><published>2009-03-13T16:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T19:47:57.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Offended!  ...and I'm not sure why.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/SbxsVhcNWoI/AAAAAAAAAUk/kX99dMpAGDo/s1600-h/PropH8.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 1px; height: 1px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/SbxsVhcNWoI/AAAAAAAAAUk/kX99dMpAGDo/s320/PropH8.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313240777400081026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a crowd that I only just became a part of, for the sake of sparing them, I’m not naming names.  Since our friendship began various different individual have made off collar comments regarding the new administration, the new administration’s race, women, children, and even God.  It usual plays out something like this: friend 1, who I will call Bob makes a off collar joke or comment and friend 2 who I will call Joe makes a point to apologize to me&lt;a title="" style="" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=1477506129501325972#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1"&gt;[1]&lt;/a&gt; for this off collar comment.  It never fails!  Well today, it failed!  You see, Joe&lt;a title="" style="" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=1477506129501325972#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2"&gt;[2]&lt;/a&gt;, while re-telling a tale about a knock –down-drag-out-fight he had with some prick earlier this week.  He loudly and repeated tells how he told the (I can’t even type the word, but I have to) “F@88%t” that he was going to through him through a window.  Now why I am so offended by this word?  I say Goddamnit!  Constantly!  I was startled every time I heard it said and felt like someone had just thrown out the f-bomb in the middle of mass.  I was embarrassed for them…and it took me literally hearing it used three or four times before I finally said something.  Even then I could only muster “I hate that word.” I know I should have said more.  I should have said, “Why would you bring someone’s sexual preference into the equation?”  or “Is being gay really a bad thing?”  They all know who they are and one of them (who BTW did not use this word) even reads this my blog religiously…so I know it will get out there that I was offended.&lt;br /&gt;What I can’t wrap my head around is: Why am I so offended?  I’m straight as an arrow!  I very dear friend of mine recently remarked that one of her favorite things about me is my compassion.  Doesn’t this go far beyond compassion?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=1477506129501325972#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1"&gt;[1]&lt;/a&gt; Not in front of Bob--of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=1477506129501325972#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2"&gt;[2]&lt;/a&gt; Joe is normally the one friend who apologizes for everyone, often even himself, and for things as minor as cursing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-8936587300099448602?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/8936587300099448602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-offended-and-im-not-sure-why.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/8936587300099448602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/8936587300099448602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-offended-and-im-not-sure-why.html' title='I&apos;m Offended!  ...and I&apos;m not sure why.'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fqnLlZc2s-I/SbxsVhcNWoI/AAAAAAAAAUk/kX99dMpAGDo/s72-c/PropH8.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1477506129501325972.post-195577744626834378</id><published>2007-06-08T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T19:38:46.824-07:00</updated><title type='text'>30 things I want to do before I turn 30</title><content type='html'>Thirty things I want to do before I turn 30:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.     Run a marathon completely in less than nine hours.&lt;br /&gt;2.     Take a trip to Vegas.&lt;br /&gt;3.     Write a complete fiction novel.&lt;br /&gt;4.     Decide what I want to be when I grow up.&lt;br /&gt;5.     See Paris at Sunset.&lt;br /&gt;6.      Watch the sun set in Maui with my husband and my children.&lt;br /&gt;7.     Read the entire Judi Picoult collection.&lt;br /&gt;8.     Spend a week in New York.&lt;br /&gt;9.     Obtain a higher degree.&lt;br /&gt;10.   Remodel my home.&lt;br /&gt;11.   Convert to Catholicism.&lt;br /&gt;12.   Start my own website, have my own website.&lt;br /&gt;13.   Volunteer for a campaign I believe in.&lt;br /&gt;14.   Be able to Google my name and find an article which depicts me as a courageous humanitarian.&lt;br /&gt;15.   Sky dive with my husband.&lt;br /&gt;16.   Achieve and maintain my ideal weight for two years.&lt;br /&gt;17.   Get 100% out of debt.&lt;br /&gt;18.   Teach my daughter to read.&lt;br /&gt;19.   Learn the game of soccer.&lt;br /&gt;20.   Grow a vineyard in my back acre.&lt;br /&gt;21.   Learn to speak fluent Russian.&lt;br /&gt;22.    Come to terms with and accept myself for who I am completely and whole heartedly.&lt;br /&gt;23.    Redo my wedding photographs.&lt;br /&gt;24.    Learn to Scrapbook.&lt;br /&gt;25.   Take my mother on a vacation to an island.&lt;br /&gt;26.   Take a hot air balloon ride.&lt;br /&gt;27.   Teach my daughter the importance of giving back.&lt;br /&gt;28.   Teach my daughter how to laugh at yourself and keep you dignity.&lt;br /&gt;29.   Find my purpose in life.&lt;br /&gt;30.   Create a foundation for the next thirty years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1477506129501325972-195577744626834378?l=camabigail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/feeds/195577744626834378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2007/06/30-things-i-want-to-do-before-i-turn-30.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/195577744626834378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1477506129501325972/posts/default/195577744626834378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://camabigail.blogspot.com/2007/06/30-things-i-want-to-do-before-i-turn-30.html' title='30 things I want to do before I turn 30'/><author><name>CaMabigail</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07069555186317355605</uri><email>CaMabigail@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14454377636738497051'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>