<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:59:42.247-07:00</updated><category term='Parenthood'/><category term='daddy'/><category term='Book Reviews'/><category term='Ranting'/><category term='It&apos;s all about the HAIR'/><category term='Travel'/><category term='Music'/><category term='TV and Movie Reviews'/><category term='My Horoscopes'/><category term='Remodel'/><category term='Dreams'/><category term='Waxing Poetic'/><category term='Overheard'/><title type='text'>RAMBLINGS</title><subtitle type='html'>As I grow to understand life less and less,
I learn to love it more and more.
Jules Renard</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>178</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-6058224638697686926</id><published>2008-11-24T13:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T18:14:11.885-08:00</updated><title type='text'>kitty love</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-9786f52942c85950" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D9786f52942c85950%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331307303%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D56249ADAA79B1A1456FAF61F97712102F652F5B.6784FC62E5103027CE3C0987103FA48CAFB52895%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D9786f52942c85950%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DnWQxeyQRZhUMdIZOjCN9hcXhb1s&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D9786f52942c85950%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331307303%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D56249ADAA79B1A1456FAF61F97712102F652F5B.6784FC62E5103027CE3C0987103FA48CAFB52895%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D9786f52942c85950%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DnWQxeyQRZhUMdIZOjCN9hcXhb1s&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-6058224638697686926?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=9786f52942c85950&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/6058224638697686926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=6058224638697686926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/6058224638697686926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/6058224638697686926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2008/11/kitty-love.html' title='kitty love'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-1011618071054537407</id><published>2008-11-24T13:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T13:46:18.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>580 days</title><content type='html'>"Hi.....my name is Heather and I'm a Nicotine addict".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quit smoking 580 days ago (for the addicts in the audience).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's 19 months ago (for parents who have kids under 2).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'bout 1 1/2 yrs ago.............for the rest of ya' all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will admit I've inhaled some second hand smoke; Vegas was a killer and Mexico wasn't much better. I've also had dreams where I was smoking like a chimney. And I THINK about the quick rush of a cigarette; that all over everythings-gonna-be-ok feeling like when you take a deep breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I have not smoked a cigarette for 580 days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-1011618071054537407?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/1011618071054537407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=1011618071054537407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/1011618071054537407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/1011618071054537407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2008/11/580-days.html' title='580 days'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-4581966639342570134</id><published>2007-03-12T23:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T23:48:38.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why now?</title><content type='html'>I wrote my last post about my Uncle Stanton 3 weeks ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week I wrote a nice little blog entry about my quiet week while my son went skiing. It wouldn't post. I wrote it TWICE but only the first few lines would post. I've never had that happen before. I gave up in frustration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday my Uncle Stanton died in a canoe accident. He and his son were canoeing on a pond near his home in Chicago. They capsized, falling into the freezing waters. My cousin was rescued. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in shock. I am heartbroken. I am horribly sad for my aunt who has now lost her two brothers in less than a year. I am horribly sad for his 4 children, his 6 grandchildren, and his one great-grandchild. It is little comfort that he was 92. His mother was 99 and his grandfather was 104 when they passed. Us Schuman's come from long-living stock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes........I find comfort in knowing that he seemed to live as he wanted; canoeing every morning by himself and driving himself to Temple many times a week. My dad said he was on every "board" imaginable and sang in the choir at his Temple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years ago I was talking to my cousin about his father and mine. I asked him, "How do we keep them safe?". He said, "we don't". They were stubborn old shits and we loved them for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-4581966639342570134?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/4581966639342570134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=4581966639342570134' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/4581966639342570134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/4581966639342570134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2007/03/why-now.html' title='Why now?'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-5805593548418258530</id><published>2007-02-20T23:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T07:00:19.762-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><title type='text'>Uncle Stanton (and President Ford)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/Rdv1djMo3hI/AAAAAAAAAC8/auYn7xst5ZY/s1600-h/Ford+and+Stanton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033886896529923602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/Rdv1djMo3hI/AAAAAAAAAC8/auYn7xst5ZY/s320/Ford+and+Stanton.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/Rdv1UDMo3gI/AAAAAAAAAC0/OFbBDkBzQ48/s1600-h/Stanton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033886733321166338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/Rdv1UDMo3gI/AAAAAAAAAC0/OFbBDkBzQ48/s320/Stanton.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My uncle Stanton played football with President Ford in college in Michigan. When Ford passed away, my cousin dug out this old picture and passed it around. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember seeing it as a child and was somehow not impressed back then. Now it seems like another testament to an incredible life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When my father ended up in the hospital last April, from a bad chest cold, Stanton was on the phone with us every day. When my father passed away, he didn't hesitate for a moment to get on a plane. I took that picture of him at the memorial services. He told us all his stories of little brother, "Albie" (my father's name is Albert). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My favorite story is how they hitchhiked from Chicago to LA to see the Olympics in 1934. They were 15 and 17. &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;They were sleeping on park benches in Santa Barbara when I policeman offered to let them sleep in the jail. So they did!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;They loved sports and played every sport imaginable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Uncle Stanton turned 91 in January. He lives in Chicago where he and my father were born and raised. He worked as an attorney until he was 85! His wife, whom he had 4 kids with, passed away maybe 20 years ago, and he just married his longtime girlfriend in 2005. When my dad asked him "WHY?", he said........"it was the right thing to do".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;In 2004 when I made my father sell his business, I bought him an airline ticket to Chicago so he could visit his brother. He hadn't been back to Chicago for over 20 years. Stanton, on the other hand, had come to visit his sister and brother in Calif. quite a few times. He actually came by himself in 2003 and stopped at my house on his way from SB to SF (where my aunt lives). He looked at the scrapbook I had made for my dad and LOVED it. He wanted to go home and make one too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway..............my dad reluctantly went to visit him (he didn't take vacations.......too frivilous an activity), because I had bought the ticket and all...........and he had a great time. My dad said that Stan still went canoeing on Lake Michigan EVERY morning. He hoisted his canoe on top of his car............by himself.......and off he went for his morning row. I'm not sure if he's still doing that. I gotta call him and find out.&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/9562460-5805593548418258530?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/5805593548418258530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=5805593548418258530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5805593548418258530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5805593548418258530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2007/02/uncle-stanton-and-president-ford.html' title='Uncle Stanton (and President Ford)'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/Rdv1djMo3hI/AAAAAAAAAC8/auYn7xst5ZY/s72-c/Ford+and+Stanton.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-7731628528702140559</id><published>2007-02-12T22:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-01T00:15:11.147-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ranting'/><title type='text'>The Secret isn't really a secret</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://thesecret.tv/behind-the-secret.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"The Secret"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; is a book and a DVD. A whole lot of people have probably heard about it or read it but I hadn't. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;3 days ago someone asked me, "Have you heard about The Secret?".  I hadn't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;2 days ago someone else brought me 2 DVD's; "What the Bleep Do We Know?" and "The Secret".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Today I was catching up on my TiVo'd Oprah's from last week and guess who she had on?? The teachers of The Secret.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;3 times in 3 days. OK. I guess I'm ready to hear about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;When I watched the DVD, I thought.....DUH?? Of course your thoughts, feelings, and actions create your reality. Hellloooooo? Who doesn't know that? That's NOT a secret.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;When I watched Oprah today, I heard it another way. It's that old phrase........the secret to life or the KEY to life. On some level we all know what that is........for ourselves. Living it and believing it in and changing our negative thoughts and behaviors is a whole 'nother thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;to be continued.................&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-7731628528702140559?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/7731628528702140559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=7731628528702140559' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/7731628528702140559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/7731628528702140559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2007/02/secret-isnt-really-secret.html' title='The Secret isn&apos;t really a secret'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-5692376081551097875</id><published>2007-01-27T23:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-27T23:41:28.902-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Overheard'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Remodel'/><title type='text'>Ya' know couples get divorced over this!</title><content type='html'>Recent conversation at the curbside:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My roommate/X-husband says: "He (my contractor/boyfriend) needs to leave some damn room in the trash cans for OUR trash??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Ummm........sorry. I know it's annoying. It'll be over soon. I swear. And if not, I'll kill him first."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My roommate/X-husband: "Get in line."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend: "Ya know couples get divorced doing remodels?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My roommate/X-husband: "That's why it's so great that we're already divorced and her boyfriend is the one we get to blame!!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-5692376081551097875?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/5692376081551097875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=5692376081551097875' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5692376081551097875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5692376081551097875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2007/01/ya-know-couples-get-divorced-over-this.html' title='Ya&apos; know couples get divorced over this!'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-2170551180612549468</id><published>2007-01-27T22:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T07:00:20.368-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Remodel'/><title type='text'>New kitchen cabinets are in...............my garage</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RbxKWaxAAjI/AAAAAAAAACI/jvSgzJirlQ8/s1600-h/boxes.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024973033241051698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RbxKWaxAAjI/AAAAAAAAACI/jvSgzJirlQ8/s200/boxes.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RbxJtKxAAiI/AAAAAAAAACA/C9h6cKRp6XU/s1600-h/IMG_0004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024972324571447842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RbxJtKxAAiI/AAAAAAAAACA/C9h6cKRp6XU/s320/IMG_0004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the kitchen as it was last August, after we took out a wall. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;New cabinets arrived Thurs morning at 7:20!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They are in boxes in the garage.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RbxJU6xAAhI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Mdq1x9w3u3U/s1600-h/gutted.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024971907959620114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RbxJU6xAAhI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Mdq1x9w3u3U/s320/gutted.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Oh yes they are. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because "we're" behind schedule. Big surprise. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The lonely little sink is hanging on....to the cabinet that remains intact......barely. Which means we have running water. Don't we feel lucky?! And YES that is a bucket under the sink.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The walls got a coat of primer today. After the texturing............after the mudding and sanding and more mudding and more sanding.............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Drywall dust is on EVERYTHING. I know it's ON me but I'm thinking it's IN me too. Could be in my butt crack. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The concrete floor got a good grinding today with a loud, messy machine. More tomorrow on what was the dining room but is all one big room now. Darn if I can't get a picture of both rooms at once.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In addition to painting and grinding is tiling BEFORE cabinets are installed. The tiling is going from the front door, 25 ft. of walkway/entrance way to the kitchen/dining room. And did I tell you about the 600 sq. feet of tile that I transported in my compact SUV from the Home Depot 30 minutes from my house 'cause the HD one friggin' block from my house didn't have that particular tile in stock?????&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've never had tile before. I haven't told my vacuum about this major change in it's life. I'm picturing myself at an aisle in Wallmart soon, staring dumbly at all those Swifter thingy's.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/9562460-2170551180612549468?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/2170551180612549468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=2170551180612549468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/2170551180612549468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/2170551180612549468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2007/01/new-kitchen-cabinets-are-inmy-garage.html' title='New kitchen cabinets are in...............my garage'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RbxKWaxAAjI/AAAAAAAAACI/jvSgzJirlQ8/s72-c/boxes.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-773410945804530296</id><published>2007-01-20T22:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-20T23:05:16.666-08:00</updated><title type='text'>for giggles</title><content type='html'>LOL funny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For anyone who talks back to their computer error messages:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.atomictumor.com/2007/01/18/troubleshooting/"&gt;http://www.atomictumor.com/2007/01/18/troubleshooting/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for anyone who's had a toddler:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://purplefruit.clubmom.com/purple_is_a_fruit/2007/01/another_new_thi.html"&gt;http://purplefruit.clubmom.com/purple_is_a_fruit/2007/01/another_new_thi.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one of my favorite posts ever but perhaps only funny for us crazy scrapbookers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://glenniacampbell.typepad.com/silenti/2006/11/scrapbookers_an.html"&gt;http://glenniacampbell.typepad.com/silenti/2006/11/scrapbookers_an.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-773410945804530296?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/773410945804530296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=773410945804530296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/773410945804530296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/773410945804530296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2007/01/for-giggles.html' title='for giggles'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-852778340976243355</id><published>2007-01-14T22:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T23:27:16.347-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book Reviews'/><title type='text'>true ramblings</title><content type='html'>So I haven't written much. I guess I haven't had a story to tell or a clever little conversation to repeat. I think I just have some ramblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's my last day of being 41. That's cool. I like B-days in general. It's a great excuse to eat icecream cake, and say, "hey......I'm older and wiser". So far I've liked celebrating getting older. Not sure when that'll change. Maybe when I'm 70. That might be a little scary or I may have aches and pains to complain about. But lets face it, the 30's-60's seem like the prime of life. A time when you "know better" but anything is still possible. Who knows......maybe 70 willl be a great age too. It's certainly "better than the alternative".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just finished reading Nora Ephron's book, &lt;em&gt;I Feel Bad About My Neck&lt;/em&gt;. She talks about the aging and "the alternative". She's a funny lady and very entertaining but the book was way too short. I know she has more to say; she spent an entire chapter on how much she hates purses, for gawd's sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of books..........I also read, &lt;em&gt;Dancing Naked at the Edge of Dawn, &lt;/em&gt;by Kris Radish recently. I will definitely read more by this author. She has that wonderful conversational type of story telling with pages of run-on sentences. The first 1/2 of book is a bit exhausting with the character in a manic state; the sheer terror and excitement that happens when EVERYTHING in your life is changing. Took me right back to the early days of divorce. After an amazing journey of self-discovery, she has a REVERSE BRIDAL SHOWER, where her women friends give her gifts to symbolize her movement into this next phase of her life. A lovely ritual really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MMmmm............what else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent today partly working at my desk, partly watching exciting (I can't believe I'm using that word here) football games. Seahawks almost did it. Chargers almost did it. Patriots proved that "you can't touch that" Brady guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then of course I had to make that trip to Home Depot; where I was seen crawling around on the concrete floor, opening boxes of tile, AND giving football updates to the Home Depot workers and customers, via cell phone with the munchkin. It was an interesting game for him 'cause the Patriots were his favorite before we saw the Chargers last month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I'll probably be at Boomers, playing a little mini-golf and driving those scary little race cars, with a big 'ole group of kids. Not exactly my ideal b-day but as my sister who shares her b-day with Xmas, said.........."that's what happens when your b-day is on a holiday". That's OK. I like sharing my B-Day with Martin Luther King, Jr. It's my honor. Happy Birthday to me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-852778340976243355?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/852778340976243355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=852778340976243355' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/852778340976243355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/852778340976243355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2007/01/true-ramblings.html' title='true ramblings'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-8063689140459419167</id><published>2007-01-09T22:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:00:01.239-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ranting'/><title type='text'>downloading</title><content type='html'>So I pick up the TV Guide at the grocery store tonight 'cause there are just too many shows to keep track of and I feel like I'm missing something. I read that I can DOWNLOAD recent episodes of my favorite shows on iTunes. Yippee for me. I missed The Office and Grey's Anatomy last week 'cause of a stupid power surge that left my cable box turned off for days until I noticed it. (Ignoring my TV for days is the beauty of TiVo after all).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go to iTunes. I find Grey's Anatomy. I must download the latest version of iTunes. OK. I can do that. Ohhhh.......it's gonna take 12 minutes. Uggh. Well, it's early.......I can still do that and have time at least part of the show. Only "download" turns into:&lt;br /&gt;Download&lt;br /&gt;Run&lt;br /&gt;Accept&lt;br /&gt;Shut down iTunes and retry&lt;br /&gt;Restart computer&lt;br /&gt;Login to iTunes&lt;br /&gt;Accept&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um.......OK.......I think that was 20 or 30 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find Grey's Anatomy again. Purchase for $1.99. Not a bad price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ohhhh.........look.....my iTunes menu has changed and I have all these movie and podcast possibilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um.......wait........did that just say my Grey's Anatomy download has FOUR hours remaining. Well shit.............who knew. I guess I'm leaving my laptop running all night. Wait.......did it just change to FIVE hours remaining and it's 50 MB. OMG. How do I put my iTunes stuff on my external hard drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I probably coulda' watched it on youtube.com like I did Weeds. Sheeshhhh..........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-8063689140459419167?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/8063689140459419167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=8063689140459419167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/8063689140459419167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/8063689140459419167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2007/01/downloading.html' title='downloading'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-5419281400770244517</id><published>2007-01-07T22:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-07T23:20:59.473-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><title type='text'>In an instant, everything changes</title><content type='html'>Why would a woman, with her young daughter in the car, be driving maybe 100 mph on a city street and cross over into on-coming traffic? Was she late for something? Was she having a seizure or heart attack? Was she rushing her child to the hospital? Was she intoxicated or drugged out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. What I do know is that she spun out of control, rolling her red Kia into a power pole, which resulted in a 3 hour power outage for 4000 of us today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At noon today, from the safety of our home, we heard a loud crash, about 2 minutes AFTER our power went out. I guess it took a few minutes for the splintered power pole to come crashing down to the ground. Within moments it seemed, there was one police siren after another, then a fire truck, then an ambulance, racing past out house towards Los Osos. Maybe it was an airplane that crashed; what else could have made such a loud crashing noise?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having just gotten outa' bed (yes......it was noon), I thought first of coffee but realized, duh,...no power. The boys had been watching football so they headed off to their favorite pizza place (Woodstocks, of course), to continue their sunday activity. I wandered aimlessly around the house realizing their was nothing to do without power (except "file"........which is a stupid thing one of my X-bosses used to say when we lost power at work). So to avoid filing, I headed off to the scene of the accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never seen so many lookie-loo's at a car accident before. My goodness, my neighbors are nosy. We all stood gazing at an upturned red vehicle by the side of the road, with power lines strewn all over it. One little car. That's what caused this major power outage?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While most stood and watched PG&amp;amp;E at work, I went off in search of someone who knew something. I heard a guy on his cell saying something like, "I was right here man. Just now. An accident. I've never seen anything like it." When he got off the phone, I asked him what happened and this is what he said. "We were working and we heard this loud boom and we rushed over and helped take this baby out of the back seat and the woman was completely smushed in the front seat and her head was cracked open and it was horrible. I've never seen anything like it. And the kid was so scared and the ambulance took him". (KSBY says a little girl who suffered major injuries. The Tribune says it was a 21 month old boy who suffered moderate injuries).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like that. In an instant. A child is mother-less. A life is lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up at Borders, drinking coffee, and watching the people. Everyone going about their business on a Sunday afternoon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-5419281400770244517?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/5419281400770244517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=5419281400770244517' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5419281400770244517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5419281400770244517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2007/01/in-instant-everything-changes.html' title='In an instant, everything changes'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-1900540731005759721</id><published>2007-01-03T22:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T23:31:06.077-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Remodel'/><title type='text'>Patience</title><content type='html'>Dear Self,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patience is possible. All you have to do is IGNORE the stuff that takes a long time and go do something else.&lt;br /&gt;It's a good thing........no, a GREAT thing, to post 100's of pics to kodakgallery, and then order prints, and then scrapbook them. You know you love it! And really, the munchkin's dad has 1000's of pics from 2006, and you selected only 100's. And instead of taking a minute a pic to post to kodak, you could be at Longs for hours standing at their machines. You've done it and it wasn't that fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes.......I know you don't have any water in your house tonight. But it's only ONE night. It'll probably be all fixed up tomorrow and you'll have your kitchen sink where it's supposed to be (under the window looking out at the backyard). And yes......I know your stove is sitting in a puddle of water but you didn't wanna' fry anything, and the toaster oven worked just fine on the foldout table in the hallway. And yes.....I know your office space is smashed into a 4x6 space and there are 1099's to do and payroll tax returns and sales tax returns and a ton of data entry just to get to that point. But you get to design your new office space, with all NEW office furniture, and it's gonna' be cool dammit. SOMEDAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOMEDAY you're gonna look back and think a year of remodel wasn't half as bad as you thought it'd be. And your munchkin's gonna continue to beg to look at those scrapbooks AGAIN and AGAIN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOMEDAY.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-1900540731005759721?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/1900540731005759721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=1900540731005759721' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/1900540731005759721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/1900540731005759721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2007/01/patience.html' title='Patience'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-5381509506481157876</id><published>2006-12-23T00:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T07:00:20.601-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ranting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><title type='text'>Football..........and PMS......but football guys....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RYz0zkiCXCI/AAAAAAAAABs/E4wbOkMDdus/s1600-h/LT.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011649652173462562" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RYz0zkiCXCI/AAAAAAAAABs/E4wbOkMDdus/s200/LT.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I have a GREAT football story. But first I gotta rant about PMS for a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a new syndrome to announce! AMS. As opposed to PMS. Just when I thought it was safe................. it hit me BAM. WTF?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The PMS thing SHOULD have been happening last week when I went traveling with my not-my-boyfriend/man-friend/man-ho AND his two teenage kids AND my child-who-doesn't-like-to-travel. But ya' know what? I was "polite". I wore a smile. I kept my mouth clenched shut when I had nothing nice to say. (Good advice from my grandmother).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, texting to your girlfriend about the lameness of boys, is a good way to avoid arguing with them in LA traffic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm thinking I simple PUT OFF the PMS. I tried to trick it but it had the last laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And did you know that there is NO PMS unless you're around men??? It's true. I'm convinced the PMS is actually the irritation that MEN don't appreciate all the effort you go through to be civil during these lovely hormonal changes. I swear..........that's it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK. On to the football story (because that is one thing men do appreciate).........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I went to my first pro football game last Sunday! AND I liked it!! The Chargers v the Chiefs. Yup. I was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LT ran 85 yards RIGHT TOWARDS me, to score yet another touchdown!!! I was sitting behind the goal, along the Chiefs sideline. Yup. Sure was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was the crazy nut in the sea of Chargers fans, with the #1 FAN finger thingy, bouncing up and down, and high-fiving every stranger sittin' around me!! Yup. That was me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who don't watch football (like me a week ago), LT is short for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ladainiantomlinson.com/home.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;LaDainian Tomlinson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;, the Chargers running back who's breaking every kind of record.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must also tell you that ONLY MY SON could make me a football fan. Many a man has tried.....and tried........and tried. My son's obsession/enthusiasm for football has done it for me. I sure didn't see that coming. Or the AMS.........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm listening to my iTunes and guess what song just came on? "You Could Be Happy" from Snow Patrol, that's what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week doesn't feel like it included the shortest day of the year. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-5381509506481157876?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/5381509506481157876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=5381509506481157876' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5381509506481157876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5381509506481157876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/12/footballand-pmsbut-football-guys.html' title='Football..........and PMS......but football guys....'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RYz0zkiCXCI/AAAAAAAAABs/E4wbOkMDdus/s72-c/LT.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-5393547253146187122</id><published>2006-12-21T22:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T22:33:06.326-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenthood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Overheard'/><title type='text'>The best candy ever</title><content type='html'>He said, "This is the best candy ever."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "I like Yorks too. Gimme one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "The wrapping is like you and the candy is like me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "What?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "You're the wrapping around me, and when I grow up I'll bust outa the wrapping and be on my own."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "Indeed."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-5393547253146187122?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/5393547253146187122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=5393547253146187122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5393547253146187122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5393547253146187122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/12/best-candy-ever.html' title='The best candy ever'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-8086467697477229504</id><published>2006-12-11T23:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T23:45:26.397-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daddy'/><title type='text'>The Hanukkah Bush</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"&gt;Dear Daddy........RIP.......ummm.....I mean.......MIP,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"&gt;Are you "&lt;a href="http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/04/hands.html"&gt;moving in peace&lt;/a&gt;"? My life moves. on. There are so many things I think of to tell you. I imagine picking up the phone and hearing your gruff old voice. I would say, "Hi Daddy". "The boy" and I finally got our Christmas Tree.........I mean Hanukkah Bush yesterday. He's so excited about Christmas and Santa (yes he still believes or at least he wants to.....) and decorating the tree and getting presents...........and the traditions. He seems to know how special it is to have two parents that love him and take care of him and sit for hours doing homework with him and play games with him. He seems to know we're the stable force under his wings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"&gt;You would say, "I stopped getting Xmas trees a couple years after you left 'cause it seemed silly to do it all by myself". Yes I remember. I would ask you, "Do you have good memories of shopping for the tree, putting it on the top of your car, dragging it into the house, putting the lights on, and sitting back to watch me put on the ornaments?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"&gt;You would probably say, "umm.........sure". And you would probably mean it. Even though you seemed bothered by the whole thing. Even though you were tired from working 6 days a week and taking care of me all by yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"&gt;Ya' know what daddy? I do the same thing with my child. This whole holiday thing is a bunch of extra work, isn't it? I procrastined the tree thing and hurried him a bit through the decorating tonight. And I will be sure to tell him that I hold these memories close to my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"&gt;Ok. I'll let you go. I'll talk to you soon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"&gt;And you'd say, "goodnight then".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-8086467697477229504?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/8086467697477229504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=8086467697477229504' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/8086467697477229504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/8086467697477229504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/12/hanukkah-bush.html' title='The Hanukkah Bush'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-1703883244704730121</id><published>2006-12-09T23:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T07:00:21.104-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ranting'/><title type='text'>It always seems like a good idea....at the time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RXu5LHxMbrI/AAAAAAAAABg/wSHmfSVPKiI/s1600-h/Smokin+Martini.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5006799011467521714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RXu5LHxMbrI/AAAAAAAAABg/wSHmfSVPKiI/s200/Smokin+Martini.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RXuzFnxMbpI/AAAAAAAAABE/-N20OgE79Vo/s1600-h/Rasperry+Lemondrop+Martini.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5006792319908474514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RXuzFnxMbpI/AAAAAAAAABE/-N20OgE79Vo/s200/Rasperry+Lemondrop+Martini.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;Martinis are fun. I think. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;The traditional Martini has always reminded me of b&amp;w movies from the 50's, of cocktail parties when EVERYBODY smoked. But now we've got Martini bars where suddenly pomegranite is a commonly used word.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;Last night, I attended a Holiday Party at a local Italian restaurant, which has such a Martini bar. It seemed like a good idea to follow up the party, by walking 20 ft. to the bar and begin ordering drinks that smoke. (At least the drinks get to smoke.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;It didn't seem like such a good idea after my 4th drink (two of which were the above Martinis). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;I was tired before I even got there. I had bandaids on my chin (from moles removed, not from cutting myself shaving), and I just wanted to curl up at home........in my sweats &amp;amp; UGGs. Thus began the pleading with my party buddies to take me home. (I left my car at home so I could drink.............which also seemed like a good idea...........at the time). And ADD a neighbor of mine who I nicely invited to join our group, who became horribly drunk. Ugggghhhhhh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"&gt;Soooooo, today was spent doing nothing. Nothing productive. Nothing much of anything. Is it time for some more Ibuprophen?&lt;/span&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/9562460-1703883244704730121?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/1703883244704730121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=1703883244704730121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/1703883244704730121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/1703883244704730121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/12/it-always-seems-like-good-ideaat-time.html' title='It always seems like a good idea....at the time'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RXu5LHxMbrI/AAAAAAAAABg/wSHmfSVPKiI/s72-c/Smokin+Martini.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-6184707469043223354</id><published>2006-12-05T23:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T07:00:21.373-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenthood'/><title type='text'>A mother's job</title><content type='html'>I will look at this picture when I feel like a bad mother. Isn't it so easy to look at other parents and KNOW what they should or shouldn't be doing.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RXZz8HxMbnI/AAAAAAAAAAs/8QlcXwcdwa0/s1600-h/a+mother"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5005315512583614066" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RXZz8HxMbnI/AAAAAAAAAAs/8QlcXwcdwa0/s400/a+mother%27s+job.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-6184707469043223354?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/6184707469043223354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=6184707469043223354' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/6184707469043223354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/6184707469043223354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/12/mothers-job.html' title='A mother&apos;s job'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RXZz8HxMbnI/AAAAAAAAAAs/8QlcXwcdwa0/s72-c/a+mother%27s+job.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-303394713685759303</id><published>2006-12-03T22:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-03T22:58:13.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'>blogging withdrawal</title><content type='html'>It's been 2 whole days since I blogged. (I think I need a confessional). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been at my laptop the last 3 nights and had to actually refrain myself from blogging. It's like a friend that you talk to every day and somehow you have MORE to talk about than with someone you don't talk to very often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so much to tell you; where do I begin?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-303394713685759303?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/303394713685759303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=303394713685759303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/303394713685759303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/303394713685759303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/12/blogging-withdrawal_03.html' title='blogging withdrawal'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-1649612267637917444</id><published>2006-12-03T22:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T07:00:21.679-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenthood'/><title type='text'>Holiday Card Pic time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RXUf1Y5fluI/AAAAAAAAAAU/jXUahXUIGdE/s1600-h/Mother"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004941562969298658" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RXUf1Y5fluI/AAAAAAAAAAU/jXUahXUIGdE/s200/Mother%27s+Day+2005+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RXUfco5fltI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zy-2bWopHgk/s1600-h/Me+n+Wayne+Dec+06.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004941137767536338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RXUfco5fltI/AAAAAAAAAAM/zy-2bWopHgk/s200/Me+n+Wayne+Dec+06.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I went to the beach yesterday with my friends to take pictures for our "Holiday" cards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a great excuse to get my ass to the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Totally awesome sunset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We picked a spot in Shell Beach where hundreds of Pelicans live. Amazing site but smelly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a pic with munchkin in the summer of 2005 and I've been wanting to take another just like it. The growth of my child is simply fascinating to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-1649612267637917444?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/1649612267637917444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=1649612267637917444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/1649612267637917444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/1649612267637917444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/12/holiday-card-pic-time.html' title='Holiday Card Pic time'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DD72rayaiAA/RXUf1Y5fluI/AAAAAAAAAAU/jXUahXUIGdE/s72-c/Mother%27s+Day+2005+3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-8169703376432145597</id><published>2006-12-03T22:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T23:31:08.115-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Remodel'/><title type='text'>Remodel update</title><content type='html'>My house remodel is actually making progress. It's MORE of a mess than ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ordered the new cabinets!! I bet my dad would say..."that's more than I paid for my first house!!". The old cabinets are getting ripped out and the whole house is covered in white powdery stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The contractor-construction-guy-man-friend ripped apart the back wall of my kitchen to prepare for the moving of the sink location and exposed the icky insulation. There were roots IN the insulation. It wasn't wet anymore but it was at one time. EWWWWWW.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The backside of my house was painted this morning........YES, on Sunday morning. It's good to "know people".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a HUGE dumpster in my driveway. I "invited" neighbors and friends to add stuff 'cause it was way bigger than I needed. OMG. They totally filled it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've spent hours at Home Depot looking at lighting stuff and flooring and appliances, but I walk out of there more confused than ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-8169703376432145597?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/8169703376432145597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=8169703376432145597' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/8169703376432145597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/8169703376432145597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/12/remodel-update.html' title='Remodel update'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-5451281271899182626</id><published>2006-12-03T22:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-03T22:35:46.988-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TV and Movie Reviews'/><title type='text'>The Fountain</title><content type='html'>I saw a movie last night called The Fountain. I had heard bad reviews but it was the only movie showing when we could go and still get back to the babysitting in time so we went (and I love a good run-on sentence once and awhile).&lt;br /&gt;Basically it was a bad acid trip. That's what I'm thinking now although I was enjoying parts of it when it was happening (kind of like an acid trip which always seems to turn into a bad trip eventually). &lt;br /&gt;Hugh Jackman was cool to watch. Bald and creepy. On the other hand, Rachel Weisz was lovely and creepy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-5451281271899182626?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/5451281271899182626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=5451281271899182626' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5451281271899182626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5451281271899182626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/12/fountain.html' title='The Fountain'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-5726210748143659537</id><published>2006-11-30T22:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-30T23:30:45.863-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I DID IT!!!!!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>I did it!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I DID IT!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I DID it!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did IT!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blogged EVERY day in November. I said I would and I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I surprised? Not necessarily. Not totally. But a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I averaged about 5 blog posts a month this year.............until November.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Setting goals is an interesting task. Small, attainable goals; that's what everyone says to do. That's what I tell people to do. But I don't always take that advice myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a task that I MUST do, makes me think of school. It's been 13 years since I went to school. I spent about 26 yrs of my life going to school. I was beyond burnt out when I finished. I've never wanted to go back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What goals have I set for myself since getting out of school? I don't often set attainable, specific goals for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll create a budget for myself and then never really stick to it 'cause who can plan for the damn car repairs or the water heater that goes out, and who really wants to restrict your grocery bills or the dinner out to celebrate your friend's promotion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to set a goal unless I'm going to achieve it. Completely. Fully. I don't wanna tell everyone I'm going to start going to the gym 4 days a week. I probably won't do it. I'd rather go to the gym for a few months and then SHOUT it to the world........I did this HUGE thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's next?? Maybe I could set a goal that I will do sit ups for 10 min. every day. If I can BLOG EVERY DAY, I could do that, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One small success at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHOUT OUT to every NaBloPoMo participant. &lt;a href="http://writingaspirations.blogspot.com/2006/11/parting-is-such-sweet-sorrow.html"&gt;Rachenbo&lt;/a&gt; says it best.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-5726210748143659537?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/5726210748143659537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=5726210748143659537' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5726210748143659537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5726210748143659537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-did-it.html' title='I DID IT!!!!!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-1944533047843112416</id><published>2006-11-29T22:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T22:24:00.139-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another list</title><content type='html'>5 things I've noticed about the other NaBloPoMo bloggers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. There are a lot of Heathers&lt;br /&gt;2. There are a lot of blogs about knitting and cooking&lt;br /&gt;3. There are some heartbreaking and inspirational blogs written by people suffering from health issues&lt;br /&gt;4. There are a lot of people who didn't post every day&lt;br /&gt;5. There are some cool, good looking blog headers and blogger (mine) is not one of them&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-1944533047843112416?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/1944533047843112416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=1944533047843112416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/1944533047843112416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/1944533047843112416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/another-list.html' title='Another list'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-3089669710961181009</id><published>2006-11-28T23:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T23:42:39.217-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><title type='text'>10 things I feel thankful for..........right now</title><content type='html'>Let's see if I can come up with 10 things that I truly feel thankful for..........at this moment in time (when I'm not feeling particularly thankful)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Chocolate ice cream&lt;br /&gt;2. My love for pictures; taking them, making albums with them, telling a story with them&lt;br /&gt;3. My smart, sweet, sleeping child and his ability to fight off a cold&lt;br /&gt;4. My warm, cozy bed&lt;br /&gt;5. Friends to laugh with&lt;br /&gt;6. A job to go to tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;7. A trip to SD next month to plan and look forward to&lt;br /&gt;8. A houseful of boys that put up with my assumption that they can read my mind&lt;br /&gt;9. A book to look forward to reading when I'm done here&lt;br /&gt;10. A blog to write a list of things I'm thankful for............so I remember to be thankful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ohhh nooo...........I have 11 things. I'm thankful that they're are only 2 more days of NaBloPoMo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-3089669710961181009?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/3089669710961181009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=3089669710961181009' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/3089669710961181009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/3089669710961181009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/10-things-i-feel-thankful-forright-now.html' title='10 things I feel thankful for..........right now'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-8770846099978367397</id><published>2006-11-27T23:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T23:33:41.479-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><title type='text'>Things I haven't done and things I've learned......in Nov.</title><content type='html'>Since blogging EVERY day in November, I haven't:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Stayed out past midnight (I have seriously left parties and run home to blog)&lt;br /&gt;*IM'd with a friends (even though I can see them online and haven't talked to them in awhile) 'cause it's too close to midnight and I gotta get my blog post done&lt;br /&gt;*Gone to flickr most every day and browsed through pics for hours&lt;br /&gt;*Left my laptop at home while going on vacation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned:&lt;br /&gt;*I enjoy a challenge&lt;br /&gt;*I can pull blog post topics out of my ass............at the last moment............and be proud of my post&lt;br /&gt;*That I am still impressed with Dooce's ability to post entertaining blogs almost every day&lt;br /&gt;*I can completely forget about posting pics to flickr, or checking my myspace (which is only important because I miss keeping up with my teenage buddies)&lt;br /&gt;*That I enjoy reading random blogs about people looking for fullfillment and hope in their daily struggles and crazy lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-8770846099978367397?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/8770846099978367397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=8770846099978367397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/8770846099978367397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/8770846099978367397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/things-i-havent-done-and-things-ive.html' title='Things I haven&apos;t done and things I&apos;ve learned......in Nov.'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-5468758193240554907</id><published>2006-11-26T22:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-26T22:24:28.999-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My rigorous schedule today (&amp; that's all you get)</title><content type='html'>Open eyes, shut eyes, go back to sleep, and repeat until 11 something&lt;br /&gt;Eat cereal, drink coffee, take vitamins&lt;br /&gt;Lay on couch and catch up on TiVo'd programs&lt;br /&gt;Pee&lt;br /&gt;Go back to couch&lt;br /&gt;Talk on phone for post-mortem on last night (whole 'nother post)&lt;br /&gt;Drink more water and pee&lt;br /&gt;Feel son's forehead and ask him if he's feeling OK 'cause there was an evil flu bug going round at Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;Eat leftover yams in bed and surf channels&lt;br /&gt;Put away clean laundry piled on bed so I can see the TV better&lt;br /&gt;Start some laundry to clear a pathway on floor in bedroom&lt;br /&gt;Eat lasagna in bed but gave up 'cause the roof of my mouth feels like I burned it&lt;br /&gt;Drink some Airborne and pee&lt;br /&gt;Watch Thank You for Smoking, feeling chilled but hoping it's just paranoia and I didn't actually catch the evil flu bug.&lt;br /&gt;Put Wayne to bed&lt;br /&gt;Drink more water and ............you guessed it.&lt;br /&gt;Blog and have nothing to say but this&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-5468758193240554907?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/5468758193240554907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=5468758193240554907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5468758193240554907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5468758193240554907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/my-rigorous-schedule-today-thats-all.html' title='My rigorous schedule today (&amp; that&apos;s all you get)'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-313430694158272474</id><published>2006-11-25T22:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-25T22:55:15.225-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Overheard'/><title type='text'>skiing vs laundry</title><content type='html'>The parents and auntie &amp;amp; uncle are all huddled round the calendar.The annual kids ski trip is being planned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cindy: "What? Heather? You're not going?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Me: "Ummm. No. But my son will go as always."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Cindy: "WHAT? You're not going skiing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Me: "Let's review last year. Everyone kept saying.........don't worry about it, you don't have to ski, and then 5 seconds later........come skiing, you'll love it, just one morning.........then the next day............come skiing again, it won't be so hard this time. Ohhh you don't want to go.............don't worry about it, you don't have to ski, and then 5 seconds later..........YOU don't want to go skiing? HOW come? It'll be fun, come skiing.........."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Cindy: "WHAT? HOW come you don't want to ski?"&lt;br /&gt;Everyone else in unison: "Remember, she was complaining the whole time about her legs and ankles and every other body part?"&lt;br /&gt;Cindy: "WHAT? You should come. It'll be GREAT. Take some vicodin and come skiiing!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Me: "OMG"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cindy: "Seriously HOW come you don't like skiing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Me: "Tell me something you don't like to do"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cindy: "Laundry. I hate laundry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Me: "We should do some laundry. COME ON. It'll be FUN. Take some vicodin. Let's do some laundry!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Cindy: "So you're going to stay home and do laundry??"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-313430694158272474?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/313430694158272474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=313430694158272474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/313430694158272474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/313430694158272474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/skiing-vs-laundry.html' title='skiing vs laundry'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-8280564759337302452</id><published>2006-11-25T22:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-25T22:19:13.142-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the proverbial truck</title><content type='html'>It feels like I was run over by a truck. I'm tuckered. Tired. Exhausted. Pooped. Draggin'. Comotose. I didn't see it coming but I should have. I guess I wasn't really looking. Just "crossing the street" today and BAM.&lt;br /&gt;2nd weekend of traveling and family and talking and listening and hugging and crying. Lordy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-8280564759337302452?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/8280564759337302452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=8280564759337302452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/8280564759337302452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/8280564759337302452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/proverbial-truck.html' title='the proverbial truck'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-5442913287429969937</id><published>2006-11-24T22:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-24T23:10:41.033-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So many pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/15261/Rhino.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/200/666938/Rhino.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/782606/Joyous%20in%20Piza.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/200/894806/Joyous%20in%20Piza.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/778154/mule%20ride.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/200/828783/mule%20ride.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/112408/IMG_0348.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/200/587862/IMG_0348.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I took so many pics and received so many pics today, and it makes me HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY. Not only did I take some nice one's yesterday and today, I received pics from both my sisters today!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My sis in Mexico figured out how to upload to kodakgallery and had some of her Europe trip to share. Yippppeeeee. Then my other sis uploaded her pics from the SD Wild Animal Park where she took a tour and fed Giraffe's and Rhino's!!&lt;/div&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/9562460-5442913287429969937?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/5442913287429969937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=5442913287429969937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5442913287429969937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5442913287429969937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/so-many-pics.html' title='So many pics'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-2620357120811391723</id><published>2006-11-23T00:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T00:27:32.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Bird Day?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/676690/Happy%20T%20Day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/320/329487/Happy%20T%20Day.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just in case my hands are too water-logged from dishes or I've convinced myself that I really can drink wine, I'm posting this NOW. A few minutes past midnight on the night before. It's not cheating dammit 'cause it IS tomorrow; I just haven't gone to bed yet. One perk of being a night-owl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7 days to go..................&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-2620357120811391723?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/2620357120811391723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=2620357120811391723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/2620357120811391723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/2620357120811391723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/big-bird-day.html' title='Big Bird Day?'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-818086069492174120</id><published>2006-11-22T22:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-22T23:35:47.448-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My secret holiday Yams recipe</title><content type='html'>I can't tell you how many people have said to me (in a confessional, whispering tone), "I don't normally like yams but yours are great!! How do you make them?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally the secret recipe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Buy lots of yams...........in the produce section. Not canned. Not sweet pototoes.&lt;br /&gt;2) Preheat (or don't preheat) oven to 400 (or anywhere between 300-450).&lt;br /&gt;3) Bake 'em for an 1 1/2 hrs (or when the house smells really good or whenever you remember to take them out).&lt;br /&gt;4) Scoop out the insides into a serving dish.&lt;br /&gt;5) Mush them together with a fork (or a spoon or whatever works).&lt;br /&gt;6) Put Marshmellows on top and put them in a hot oven and WATCH them until the Marshmellows are GOLDEN BROWN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 produce bags full should feed about 20 people with leftovers for the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously folks. Canned yams are kinda gross. And I'm not sure why anyone wants to add butter and brown sugar when they are oozing with natural sweetness (as evidenced by the gooey, honey like substance that will be glued to your cookie sheets).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Turkey Day!! Enjoy whatever you're eating and think of at least one thing you can be THANKFUL for this year!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:&lt;br /&gt;After posting this I went on my merry way to read blogs. I choose &lt;a href="http://www.dooce.com/archives/daily/11_22_2006.html"&gt;Dooce&lt;/a&gt; first. Read the last line of her post today. FREAKY. VERY VERY FREAKY.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-818086069492174120?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/818086069492174120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=818086069492174120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/818086069492174120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/818086069492174120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/my-secret-holiday-yams-recipe.html' title='My secret holiday Yams recipe'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-2566322874503816519</id><published>2006-11-21T19:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-21T19:51:05.477-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Britney &amp; Paris?! Ohhh come on.............</title><content type='html'>Britney &amp; Paris are BFF?? Seen partying together?? It's just too much for me. Next they'll be honeymooning with TomKat. I'm just so thankful they got married already. Sheeshh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Britney's got long 'ole extensions in her hair.  Who would do that (wink wink to my bud)??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow that's all I gotta say for now. I need to eat food or I'll melt into nothingness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 days to go..............whew.............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-2566322874503816519?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/2566322874503816519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=2566322874503816519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/2566322874503816519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/2566322874503816519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/britney-paris-ohhh-come-on.html' title='Britney &amp; Paris?! Ohhh come on.............'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-5020245668138642650</id><published>2006-11-20T22:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T23:00:12.519-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><title type='text'>Free Hug Campaign</title><content type='html'>You've probably all heard about this by now but it seemed worthy of a blog post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://freehugscampaign.org/"&gt;http://freehugscampaign.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can watch the inspiring video on the website above or on youtube.com. I received the video via email months ago. Then I saw it on Oprah. Then I saw it on youtube.com. I can't see it enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a guy offering FREE HUGS. One man's way of making the world a better place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I tried posting the video directly from youtube but it hasn't posted yet and I'm going to bed and can't wait any longer)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-5020245668138642650?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/5020245668138642650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=5020245668138642650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5020245668138642650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5020245668138642650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/free-hug-campaign.html' title='Free Hug Campaign'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-5350917914654991957</id><published>2006-11-19T22:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T22:56:13.085-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daddy'/><title type='text'>daddy's tree</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/143430/IMG_0341.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/320/977131/IMG_0341.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I sat today with the Live Oak tree planted in memory of my father. Some of his ashes are there. His running shoes are there. His pipe is there. It's been 7 months today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I visited with my aunties this weekend. Visited and talked and listened and hugged and cried and laughed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Family is exhausting that way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Note to self: drink lots of water and sleep, not necessarily in that order.&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/9562460-5350917914654991957?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/5350917914654991957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=5350917914654991957' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5350917914654991957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/5350917914654991957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/daddys-tree.html' title='daddy&apos;s tree'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-4218565974103929246</id><published>2006-11-18T21:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T23:29:06.529-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Book Reviews'/><title type='text'>The Secret Life of Bees</title><content type='html'>I’m reading a book called, The Secret Life of Bees, and the opening paragraph had me hooked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“At night I would lie in bed and watch the show, how bees squeezed through the cracks of my bedroom wall and flew circles around the room, making that propeller sound, a high-pitched zzzzzzzz that hummed along my skin. The way those bees flew, not even looking for a flower, just flying for the feel of the wind, split my heart down its seam.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The imagery, the feelings, the storytelling, the poetry………….makes my heart sing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sue Monk Kidd then writes, “The bees came the summer of 1964, the summer I turned fourteen and my life went spinning off into a whole new orbit……….”. “Right now it’s enough to say that despite everything that happened that summer, I remain tender toward the bees.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the word TENDER in that last sentence. As I’m nearing the end of the book, I realize that no other word could be used to describe the meaning of the bees in her life. I can’t tell you anymore about the book because it would spoil it. You must go on the journey with this girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One reviewer writes, “This is a remarkable novel about divine female power, a story that women will share and pass on to their daughters for years to come.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recommend that you read this book (even if you’re not a woman) and stick with throughout the first few chapters. You must go through the dark days to get to the light.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-4218565974103929246?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/4218565974103929246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=4218565974103929246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/4218565974103929246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/4218565974103929246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/secret-life-of-bees.html' title='The Secret Life of Bees'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-7141124369562169345</id><published>2006-11-17T22:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T23:41:45.223-08:00</updated><title type='text'>DAY 17............will it post?</title><content type='html'>Dear wireless router,&lt;br /&gt;I am visiting your house for the next few days. I hope you will be kind to me so I can continue to do the &lt;a href="http://www.fussy.org/nablopomo.html"&gt;NaBloPoMo&lt;/a&gt;  thing this month. I've somehow managed to post EVERY day and it would be so disappointing to stop now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to post to you now and then continue writing so I can stop holding my breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew........it worked. DAY 17 is safe. I so appreciate your cooperation! I can continue breathing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've come to visit my sister (your owner) this weekend. You've always been there for me but I was still a bit nervous being out of town during the NaBloPoMo contest. I've read a few other NaBlo blogs during my adventures on the &lt;a href="http://www.pinkelephants.org/nablopomo/"&gt;randomizer &lt;/a&gt;and there are tales of out of town visits with dial-up only. OMG. Can you believe some people still have that old system?! Well........yes........we should have compassion for them. Not everyone is as lucky as us to have wireless routers like you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, thank you for being there for me. I'm listening to the quiet of the ranch right now. The stillness is quite loud actually. Have you ever noticed that? Yes.....I suppose some of that noise may be the traffic on HWY 154. I'm just happy that the Peahen (that's a female Peacock) is not making that screeching sound. Apparently I'm sitting in her spot on the patio and last time I was here she freaked out and circled the house making the most horrible sounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must warn you I'm going to NAME DROP now. It's not often (or ever) that I get to do that so I'm feeling the need to take the opportunity now. ELLEN DEGENERES is selling her ranch next door (meaning a 10 min walk from door to door). She's been talking about it on her show, so it's not a secret anymore. She even showed a tour of her house (last week I think) on her show. Interesting place and a crazy amount of remodel in her 2 1/2  yr residence. I guess it would have been 2 yrs ago this month that I met her here at the ranch. My dad and son and I saw her and Portia walking right up the driveway. She was quite neighborly and mostly had a million questions about the horse thing; do they need those blankets at night if they're not in the barn, how come some horses get to stay in the barn while others are outside? I'm sure they learned a lot about horses and I hope Portia gets to continue riding. She was so excited about it. It was nice to meet them for a few hours that day because I found out she IS as funny as she is on TV. She's got a quick wit and seemed to be constantly thinking up her daily monologue. I wasn't surprised about this, nor was I surprised when I heard she is constantly working and rarely sits down. It seems the ranch life here is probably too quiet and remote and the security is nonexistent.&lt;br /&gt;Yes.......yes.......router..........I agree, it's a quiet life here (YES.........I'm still talking to the damn router). I'm more of a town girl myself, but it's great place to visit!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-7141124369562169345?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/7141124369562169345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=7141124369562169345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/7141124369562169345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/7141124369562169345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/day-17will-it-post.html' title='DAY 17............will it post?'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-3673588329166995443</id><published>2006-11-16T23:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-16T23:51:22.366-08:00</updated><title type='text'>babies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/446009/boyer%20baby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/200/417033/boyer%20baby.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/579510/baby%20boyer%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/2396/1167/200/342079/baby%20boyer%202.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Babies are wonderful..............when they're not yours!! And this one was sleeping.............in my arms!! I could hold him with one hand (while I used the other to take a pic with my new phone ;-).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This amazing little boy is 6 weeks old and it feels like I've waited forever to meet him. He's the first child of a friend of mine, an x-worker, an x-boss, and a current client. He's a big man with a big voice with a darling wife and they've made this amazing little being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&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/9562460-3673588329166995443?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/3673588329166995443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=3673588329166995443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/3673588329166995443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/3673588329166995443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/babies.html' title='babies'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-499182490057260563</id><published>2006-11-15T21:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T22:01:54.539-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogster, Blom, Blogaman</title><content type='html'>One of the crazy NaBloPoMo bloggers, &lt;a href="http://writingaspirations.blogspot.com/"&gt;Rachenbo&lt;/a&gt;, came up with a list of &lt;a href="http://writingaspirations.blogspot.com/2006/11/theme-theme-theme.html"&gt;TYPES&lt;/a&gt; of bloggers. I think I'm mostly a BLOGSTER but throw in some BLOM and BLOGAMAN for good measure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also had a rant about a &lt;a href="http://writingaspirations.blogspot.com/2006/11/theme-theme-theme.html"&gt;THEME&lt;/a&gt; for your blog or the absense of one. She says we don't HAVE to have a theme but she obviously wishes we did. After some thought, I've decided &lt;em&gt;ramblings&lt;/em&gt; IS a theme. I ramble about my life and my observations and like to throw in a reason to giggle as often as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love to write and considered a career in it for about a half a second in college. I like to structure a blog post with a theme. I like to tie it all together with a conclusion. But I’m not a “writer”; and by that I mean, I haven’t been trained as one, didn’t major in it, or try to make money doing it. As it turns out, I went in a completely different direction and became an accountant (back to the structure thing). Being a writer (or photographer, which I also pursued for a second), feels way too vulnerable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I use a lot of animation in my voice and body language. I’m more a stand-up comic than a writer. When I was 7 or so my mother thought I’d be a mime or an actor. I can’t stop being ANIMATED even if I tried (which I have; it was a dreadful couple of minutes).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thank gawwd for BLOGGING, which allows me to do a little writing. It’s a challenge to rely on my words only (and maybe a font change, a color change, or even some CAPS). But it’s just a blog, just a journal, for whoever (including myself who) has time to read it…………or not. It's important to have a "witness" (or many witnesses) in life but sometimes you must be your own witness. Part of that growing up thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-499182490057260563?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/499182490057260563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=499182490057260563' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/499182490057260563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/499182490057260563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/blogster-blom-blogaman.html' title='Blogster, Blom, Blogaman'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-6169742550728284425</id><published>2006-11-14T22:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T23:02:15.237-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='It&apos;s all about the HAIR'/><title type='text'>HAIR (note to self: create category called HAIR)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/crazy%20hair.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/200/crazy%20hair.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/200/half%20crazy%20hair.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;This is me. This is my hair. This is my hair after blow drying it. NOT a good look. There is only one reason I don't wear a hat every day and that reason is my CHI Flat Iron. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are fifty million gels and sprays for de-frizzing the hair. My Silk Therapy was the one at work on the left side of my hair in the after shot. You can see it's a LITTLE bit better. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is NOTHING that takes the place of my CHI flat iron, not even other flat irons. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know I have spoke about this many times before. I apologize. I was drawing a total blank about what the hell to blog about on DAY 14. But it's a worthy cause. I will be adding a category called HAIR. I wonder how many there are. If I blogged about my hair everytime I cursed it, I would have to blog about it EVERY DAY.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-6169742550728284425?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/6169742550728284425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=6169742550728284425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/6169742550728284425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/6169742550728284425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/hair-note-to-self-create-category.html' title='HAIR (note to self: create category called HAIR)'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-4696853699593996418</id><published>2006-11-13T20:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T21:02:10.475-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Visitors</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/me%20n%20visitors.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/320/me%20n%20visitors.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My x-roomie from '02-03 called me on Thurs. and said "can I come visit?". Um........OK......uuhhhh, ya' know I've got a remodel going on and the house is even more of a disaster than usual? No problem she said. Of course as I started cleaning the house I realized how totally un-baby-proofed my house had become. An 11 month crawls on the floor for gawd's sake. OMG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stayed two days, which I decided was a very nice amount of time for a vistor to stay. The coffee was made in the morning when I got up, the dishes were done (my current roomie/dishwasher liked that), and she took some of her stuff that has been in my garage for 3 years. SO THERE to all my friends who said she'd never come back for it!! Some dusting was done, my floor got picked up, AND let's not forget he chirping smoke detector (see Sat. night blog post)!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the kind of visitor you want isn't it? I don't have too many visitors but was quickly reminded how you're life has to kinda stop when you've got them and there is a need to entertain. Oh........AND we went to the beach, which I hardly ever do even though it's only 10 min. away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister, who lives in Mexico, and I were talking yesterday about how our family aren't the "visiting" type. She has threatened to stop coming here until one of us goes there. Now the thing is............many of you may have family that comes to visit you often. Do they stay too long? Does your mother or mother-in-law criticize your cleaning habits, your parenting skills, or your eating habits? I've heard about these type of visits and I don't think I'd want that either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throughout the years I've thought many times about my non-visiting family. It used to hurt my feelings. One time I was talking to my dad about it and he said........"my parents only came to visit me a few times". A FEW TIMES in his whole adult life. I realized at that moment that it wasn't a sign of their love (they're always there for the times of crisis and the Sunday phone calls are common). You just get the family you get. For better or worse. AND you get to make friends.........lots and lots of them.................some will even come visit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-4696853699593996418?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/4696853699593996418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=4696853699593996418' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/4696853699593996418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/4696853699593996418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/visitors.html' title='Visitors'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-1869019824199564645</id><published>2006-11-12T21:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-12T21:48:52.638-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TV and Movie Reviews'/><title type='text'>Stranger Than Fiction (or Cheese &amp; Broccoli......I can't decide which)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Why do movie previews always do that?? Why does the preview show all the funny parts (or use editing to create funny parts that aren't even there), when the movie is serious or depressing or heavy?? The Family Stone did that. The Weatherman did that. The Break-Up did that. And mostly, Stranger than Fiction did that. Do they think we'll only go see it if it's a comedy? Do they have to trick us into seeing a drama with life lessons that are good for us? Kinda like cheese melted all over our broccoli so we'll eat it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"&gt;Will Ferrell, Emma Thompson, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Dustin Hoffman, &amp;amp; Queen Latifah are the man reasons for seeing &lt;a href="http://www.sonypictures.com/movies/strangerthanfiction/index.html"&gt;Stranger Than Fiction&lt;/a&gt;. Emma is amazing in her dark, British way. Dustin is less cartoonish than he's been lately. Maggie is more wonderfully likable than she normally is. The Queen has too straight and small a part but lovely. And Will is a ton more serious than usual but I personally think it suits him. I've never noticed his sweet, soft, lovable eyes before. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"&gt;Stranger than Fiction has some very funny parts. But it's definitely not the goofy type movie's that Will is known for, and I'm not sure the previews reveal the true nature of the movie. And even though I feel tricked, I liked it! Cheese on Broccoli is good, dammit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;On the other hand, the other movie I saw this weekend was The Break-Up and I'm glad I rented it with my magical Blockbuster-in-the-mailbox club. It really wasn't funny. It was depressing with no redemption. We get a few seconds of Vince Vaughn's charmingly quick and witty dialogue, and then we get two characters arguing for another hour or so. Ok......so we get some Jennifer nakedness for about a second too. But mostly, we just get that awkward voyeurish feeling of watching a couple argue about stupid stuff. We could have video-taped our own lives if we wanted to see that!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;I guess the Broccoli wasn't cooked enough for me (I actually like vege's cooked well and yes I know they're not as good for me). I guess you can't fool me into liking hard, microwaved Broccoli, even if you spread cheese all over it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-1869019824199564645?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/1869019824199564645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=1869019824199564645' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/1869019824199564645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/1869019824199564645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/stranger-than-fiction-or-cheese.html' title='Stranger Than Fiction (or Cheese &amp; Broccoli......I can&apos;t decide which)'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-3346164705467585515</id><published>2006-11-11T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-11T20:35:18.249-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two more favorites</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/Crab%20Encrusted%20Halibat%20on%20a%20bed%20of%20asparagus,%20bok%20choy,%20&amp;%20parmeson%20mashed%20potatoes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/320/Crab%20Encrusted%20Halibat%20on%20a%20bed%20of%20asparagus%2C%20bok%20choy%2C%20%26%20parmeson%20mashed%20potatoes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Long Beach Pier.  Sept. 2006.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/LB%20Sunset%20for%20blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/320/LB%20Sunset%20for%20blog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                                                                                         Sunset shines on Crab Encrusted Halibat over Garlic Mashed Potatoes, with Bok Choy and Asparagus.&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/9562460-3346164705467585515?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/3346164705467585515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=3346164705467585515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/3346164705467585515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/3346164705467585515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/two-more-favorites.html' title='Two more favorites'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-3123559920588648541</id><published>2006-11-10T20:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T21:06:26.532-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We chirp no more</title><content type='html'>I have a sledgehammer and a smoke detector that is facing it's demise. This is no ordinary smoke detector. This particular one chirped (that sound when the battery's going dead)............in my garage/internet smoking lounge..........for perhaps a year. Yes I said a year. It wasn't until yesterday when my x-roomie came for a visit and said "what is that noise?" that I realized it was still doing it. Seriously. And before the day was over she had found that smoke detector........in a box, with pictures.&lt;br /&gt;I either drowned out the chirping sound with iTunes or I developed a tick and no one bothered to tell me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-3123559920588648541?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/3123559920588648541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=3123559920588648541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/3123559920588648541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/3123559920588648541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/we-chirp-no-more.html' title='We chirp no more'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-6464248905463208254</id><published>2006-11-09T00:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T00:17:31.182-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two of my favorites</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/Birds%20in%20SS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/320/Birds%20in%20SS.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/Sunset%20in%20SS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/320/Sunset%20in%20SS.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love these pics. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I took them with my new Nikon Rebel, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;at my annual scrapbooking retreat, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;in San Simeon, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;last month.&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/9562460-6464248905463208254?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/6464248905463208254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=6464248905463208254' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/6464248905463208254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/6464248905463208254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/two-of-my-favorites.html' title='Two of my favorites'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-2515751018107257871</id><published>2006-11-08T22:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T23:31:18.910-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And on the 8th Day</title><content type='html'>This NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month.........I think is what it stands for) is CRAZY and WONDERFUL. Why, you ask, would joining a group of crazy bloggers in a contest to blog every day in Nov, be a good thing? Mostly because of the &lt;a href="http://www.pinkelephants.org/nablopomo/"&gt;Randomizer&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I scroll through this amazing group of over 2000 bloggers and I am overwhelmed with stories, images, information.........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I could have scrolled through Blogger blogs anytime. Blogger has this same feature. But when I did it a few times, I was bored reading about people I had never met or wrote of things I didn't find interesting. HOW could I have been bored? I'm not sure anymore. What is it that makes the NaBloPoMo Randomizer experience so much better?? The only difference is that I am &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;connected&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; to these people in one way for sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;This post is becoming long winded. What I wanted to say is that I'm totally captivated by reading all these different blogs. I've read about parenthood,  traveling in Turkey and Italy, stories of a scrap-a-holic, gluten-free diets, a woman who talked on the phone with Gloria Steinem this week, voting issues in other states, colds and flu's, and quitting this damn contest 'cause their busy lives must take precedence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if the Randomizer wasn't enough, there's a crazy blogger who &lt;a href="http://writingaspirations.blogspot.com/2006/11/nablopomo-review-list.html"&gt;REVIEWED&lt;/a&gt; about half of all the blogs. They haven't gotten to my blog yet (it's in the R's) but someone named "The Crap-o-Rama" has voluntered to do our those. WOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a bit of pressure but I'm taking one-day-at-a-time. Always a good lesson. And I'm a bit worried about overloading my readers, although I'm only sure about a very few readers (thanks Mom for being my lone "commentor", for who else is the best supporter and witness of your life?!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just signed up for this free site meter thing to see if I can track visitors. And where did I learn of this site? None other than fussy.org (one of the organizers of this NaBloPoMo contest thingy).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-2515751018107257871?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/2515751018107257871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=2515751018107257871' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/2515751018107257871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/2515751018107257871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/and-on-8th-day.html' title='And on the 8th Day'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-2279223454078019983</id><published>2006-11-07T21:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T22:31:21.094-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenthood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Overheard'/><title type='text'>conversations</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000000;"&gt;Earlier this evening.............&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;"Mommy? Come throw the ball with me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;"I'm doing my hair and it's almost your bedtime".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;"You never play with me anymore. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;It's not the first time my son has said this to me lately. My heart actually hurts when he says this to me.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000000;"&gt;Later..........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;"Get in bed. Light on or off?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;"Either way"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;"Sweet dreams and............I'll play basketball with you tomorrow. K?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;"K"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;"Now make mommy happy and go to sleep".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000099;"&gt;Guilt works both ways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;A few days ago, with the other guy in my life.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#663300;"&gt;"I like your hair better red"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#663300;"&gt;"I knew you'd hate it"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#663300;"&gt;"I didn't say that"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#663300;"&gt;"It'll lighten as I wash it"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#663300;"&gt;"I can't call you strawberry shortcake anymore"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#663300;"&gt;"How 'bout blackberry shortcake?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#663300;"&gt;"How 'bout chocolate souffle?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;This morning, IMing with my lunch date............&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Did I tell you I colored my hair brown?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;"Good thing you told me so I can recognize you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000000;"&gt;Later at lunch...........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;"I miss your red hair"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;"I know, I know. I asked to have highlights on top. I gotta get it fixed."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;"He can't call you shortcake anymore"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;"OMG, that's what he said!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000000;"&gt;And one more conversation with "the other guy in my life"................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#663333;"&gt;"You're X-wife and I look alike"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#663333;"&gt;"What? No you don't"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#663333;"&gt;"Yes we do"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#663333;"&gt;"NO. YOU. DON'T."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#663333;"&gt;"ya huh"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#663333;"&gt;"na huh"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#663333;"&gt;"She's got light, freckly skin and her hair color is like the color mine was 2 days ago. We look alike"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#663333;"&gt;"Quit saying that"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#663333;"&gt;"just sayin' "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;"You better quit sayin' 'cause you're gonna lose weekend visitation rights with&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;your bed"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-2279223454078019983?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/2279223454078019983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=2279223454078019983' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/2279223454078019983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/2279223454078019983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/conversations.html' title='conversations'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-7145064746571048407</id><published>2006-11-06T21:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T22:19:31.687-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenthood'/><title type='text'>Sharing my bathroom</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Have I mentioned lately that sharing a bathroom with my 9 yr old son continues to amaze me?? (I could look back in my "parenthood" category and probably find at least 5 posts about my son's bathing experience.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;This is what I sound like after my son has taken his shower and/or bath: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;"OMG.........look at this bathroom." Squish Squish. "These towels are soaking wet for criminy sakes". (OK......so sometimes I use other words). Ouch Ouch. "These stupid batmen are going in the trash mister 'cause they're not in the basket". "Oh man......you emptied this shampoo bottle; that'll cost you about $4. You are soooo lucky it was one of the cheap ones". "And what the he^^ is on the mirror; it looks like the Febreeze". "um.........NO......you are not cleaning this up right now; it's past your bedtime". "Jezuzzz...........I just needed to go pee".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I almost took a picture of the disaster that is my bathroom after his bathing experience...........for his scrapbook............and for this blog. But dammit, I just needed to pee..........and a dry, flat surface to walk on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;P.S. Guess what I figured out the other night?? The &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;nightlight&lt;/span&gt; in the bathroom has ONE purpose. So my son can't tell me, "I missed the toilet 'cause it was dark". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-7145064746571048407?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/7145064746571048407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=7145064746571048407' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/7145064746571048407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/7145064746571048407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/sharing-my-bathroom.html' title='Sharing my bathroom'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-2286878798434553568</id><published>2006-11-05T23:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T23:20:39.703-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ramblings and run-ons</title><content type='html'>I simply don't have time to blog right now. I'm late for beddie bye time. It's 11:11 and I must go. I put off a work project until tonight and instead fiddled about this weekend doing who knows what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait...I know.........I went to a kid movie, which I haven't done in ages 'cause my kid doesn't want to see them anymore but was pressured into going 'cause his friends wanted to go and so I took them all. Flushed Away was a cute and action packed movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And.......I did my part to help with the construction of the basketball hoop (one of those big 'ole freestanding things) by getting the sand. Too bad I couldn't actually pick up the 70 lb bags of sand. My son did it. He's 9 yrs old. Note to self: go to the gym and lift weights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And.......I met my boyfriend's dad and xwife today. Did I just say boyfriend? Shit. Very nice people and we're all excited about "the boyfriend's" new pad, just across town. And did I mention that I gave him my old bed? I have weekend visitation rights and I so enjoyed those rights this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK. I did it. I posted for the 5th day in a row. Whew.............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-2286878798434553568?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/2286878798434553568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=2286878798434553568' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/2286878798434553568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/2286878798434553568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/ramblings-and-run-ons.html' title='ramblings and run-ons'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-6137461083516746050</id><published>2006-11-04T16:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-04T16:43:42.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Zits</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/609940.0.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/320/609940.0.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you ever read the cartoon Zits? I seem to find the trials of a 14 yr old boy and his parents totally relatable. What does that mean?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can you read the cartoon? I don't have time to fiddle with it now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OH MY......................the pressure of this blogging-every-day-thing!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-6137461083516746050?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/6137461083516746050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=6137461083516746050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/6137461083516746050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/6137461083516746050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/zits.html' title='Zits'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-212526268885076175</id><published>2006-11-03T22:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-03T22:50:19.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>more bed walking</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/bed%20jumping.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/320/bed%20jumping.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;continued from yesterdays post...............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1st night (last night) on the Tempur-Pedic Memory Foam DELUXE was just fine. Not great yet. More bed walking required. My munchkin (who's not much smaller than me now) and I walked, ran, wrestled (he pinned me every time), and played football on my bed tonight!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The foreground of my pic is the handle of my vacuum and I left it there as evidence that I actually HAVE a vacuum and I do use it on occasion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/9562460-212526268885076175?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/212526268885076175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=212526268885076175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/212526268885076175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/212526268885076175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/more-bed-walking.html' title='more bed walking'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-7057250512999013303</id><published>2006-11-02T22:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-02T23:04:20.863-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Every 10 years</title><content type='html'>Every ten years you're supposed to get a new bed, right? Or was it 7? Not sure but it was coming up on 10 years with my faithful, good quality bed and it was the perfect excuse to get a brand-spanking newTempur-Pedic memory foam bed!  I've got a friend that owns a bed store that sells 'em and I've talking about it for a few years. TODAY was the day!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spending a bunch of money on a bed is a guilt-free experience 'cause the darn thing is going to last at least a decade, and a good quality bed saves me from oh-so-many neck spasms which leads to chiro's and massueses and headeaches and painkillers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very excited but also nervous about the first few nights in a new bed. It can be hard to get used to a new bed, even when it's a good one. The interesting thing about the foam beds in that you need to WALK on them to break down the "starch" (I'm not kidding). My son and I did this today. Who knew I was going to get a quad work-out too!!! (Imagine trying to make footprints in damp sand).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to prove how very excited I am, I woke up at 6am today and started preparing my room for the new bed!! I had to clean underneath the bed, and vacuum up all those nasty little dust bunnies that give me nasty little colds. I also decided it was a good time to move some stuff around in my room and that involved a whole lotta' cleaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued........................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-7057250512999013303?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/7057250512999013303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=7057250512999013303' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/7057250512999013303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/7057250512999013303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/every-10-years.html' title='Every 10 years'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-8721230845072278475</id><published>2006-11-01T22:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T23:02:45.027-08:00</updated><title type='text'>National Blog Posting Month</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/1600/nablopomo_yoda_120x90.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2396/1167/320/nablopomo_yoda_120x90.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did you know it's National Blog Posting Month?? I didn't either until I read about it on &lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/emdot/280240754/"&gt;emdot's flickr&lt;/a&gt;. I have decided to join these crazy bloggers in a pledge to blog EVERY DAY in November. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can read all about it &lt;a href="http://www.fussy.org/nablopomo.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not sure what the heck I'm gonna write about EVERY DAY but I can't wait to find out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm considering today a "freebie", an introduction, a title page. I wonder how long it'll take me to buy the book, &lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="No"&gt;No One Cares What You Had for Lunch:100 Ideas For Your Blog&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&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/9562460-8721230845072278475?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/8721230845072278475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=8721230845072278475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/8721230845072278475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/8721230845072278475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/11/national-blog-posting-month.html' title='National Blog Posting Month'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-4479886154245721872</id><published>2006-10-29T01:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T01:27:04.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New format.......Yipppeeee</title><content type='html'>Well isn't this nifty?! A new format for blogger. The best part is that I can finally have CATEGORIES!!  (The call 'em Labels but they seem more like Categories to me. )  I always wanted 'em and was jealous of other blogs that had 'em but I had not given up hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new format, called "beta", has been available for awhile but I was too afraid to try it 'cause I've tried new templates and it screwed up my formatting and I lost all my website links. Uggghhh. And then I had to beg website designer friends to help me and that's no fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only bummer so far is that my links (My Favorite Websites) don't open in a new window anymore. One of my neato website designer friends taught me how to add the html verbage to make that happen but it's not working now. Mmmmm........I'll have to work on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow...........hopefully you'll enjoy the Categories section as much as I will.  I've always wanted an easy way to go back and see how many times I've talked about the same thing or what movies I've rambled about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm such a wannabe neato website designer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-4479886154245721872?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/4479886154245721872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=4479886154245721872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/4479886154245721872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/4479886154245721872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/10/new-formatyipppeeee.html' title='New format.......Yipppeeee'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-116210350043563354</id><published>2006-10-28T23:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:29.635-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><title type='text'>dreams (more)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;I wrote about dream analysis a few nights ago &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=116183992645134668"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Last night I wrote in my dream journal, "dolphin using his tail to tell me to follow him. before that, like watching a video, a man was swimming after a woman he loves". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;I remember thinking..........."dolphin" will have a cool meaning. I don't even remember what time it was when I awoke, which is cool too, 'cause it means I'm not thinking about it too much. Love that!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Anywho............here's what dream moods says about dolphins:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;To see a dolphin in your dream, symbolizes spiritual guidance, your intellect, mental attributes and emotional trust. Utilize your mind to its capacity and you will move upward in life. &lt;strong&gt;Alternatively, it suggests that a line of communication has been established between the conscious and unconscious aspects of yourself.&lt;/strong&gt; Dolphins represent your willingness and ability to explore and navigate through your emotions.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-116210350043563354?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/116210350043563354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=116210350043563354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/116210350043563354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/116210350043563354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/10/dreams-more.html' title='dreams (more)'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-116192954877176108</id><published>2006-10-26T22:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:29.558-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TV and Movie Reviews'/><title type='text'>Brothers &amp; Sisters</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/1600/Sally.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/320/Sally.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm a sap but I love a good story about a dysfunctional family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I TiVo so many shows from Weeds to Lost to Desperate Housewives to Ellen......... I usually don't even try new shows..............BUT Sally Fields and Ron Rifkin and Calista Flockhart and Rachel Griffiths and Patricia Wettig. WOW!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you not TiVo-ing your tele, &lt;a href="http://abc.go.com/primetime/brothersandsisters/index.html"&gt;Brothers &amp;amp; Sisters&lt;/a&gt; is on Sunday nights on ABC at 10pm Calif. time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "ensemble cast" is fabulous but Sally Fields is the best I've ever seen her!! She's real and sweet and funny. You can see from this picture that she has age lines and all! Her face actually moves when she's talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There have been 5 episodes already but START WATCHING NOW 'cause hopefully it'll be around for more than one season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what you've missed so far:&lt;br /&gt;Tom Skerritt played the dad for one episode. He had a heart attack and falls in the pool. After his death we find out that he had a mistress (Patricia Wettig) for 15 years and embezzled money from the family business. His wife (Sally Fields) learns of the mistress in episode 3. In his will, he names the oldest daughter (Rachel Griffiths) as CEO. Calista, the other daughter, is a raging Republican with a TV show, and has conflict with pretty much everyone else. Sally Fields brother is played wonderfully by Ron Rifkin, and heads the family biz as the CFO (a jewish accountant.......surprise!).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-116192954877176108?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/116192954877176108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=116192954877176108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/116192954877176108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/116192954877176108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/10/brothers-sisters.html' title='Brothers &amp; Sisters'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-116183992645134668</id><published>2006-10-25T21:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:18.656-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><title type='text'>Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;I recently found this site about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dreammoods.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;dream interpretation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;. It's a simplistic way to analyze your dreams but hey........you're not paying $100/hr either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;What I learned from paying therapy rates for dream analysis is that your dreams are NEVER to be taken literally. For example, if you're dreaming about giving birth, it's probably about "giving birth" to a new idea or phase in your life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;And for those of you who say, "I don't dream"..........STOP IT. You do too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;I started keeping a pad of paper and pen by my bed and although I resist at first, it soon becomes a habit (like visiting the bathroom in the middle of night and being only half awake). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;So first you put the paper and pen close by. Then you write a few words; places, feelings, people. Don't try to write complete sentences or long stories (I swear you won't be graded).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;The other night, I wrote, "Ballou kind of bear with music. powerful. little scary." I don't really remember the dream now (I didn't want to wake myself up enough to write more). But when I looked up BEAR, on my new favorite website, it said this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;To dream that you are being pursued or attacked by a bear, denotes aggression, overwhelming obstacles and competition. You may find yourself in a threatening situation. Alternatively, bears symbolize the cycle of life and death and renewal.  It may signal of period of introspection and thinking. The dream may also be a pun on "bare". Perhaps you need to bare your soul and let everything out into the open.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;mmmmm.........interesting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Another night I wrote this, "ship broke in 3 parts. i'm in middle. children on one side. parents on the other. " &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Dreammoods.com said this about SHIP:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;To see a ship in your dream, denotes that you are exploring aspects of your emotions and unconscious mind. The state and condition of the ship is indicative of your emotional state. If it is a cruise ship, then it suggests pleasant moods. If it is a warship, then you are experiencing feelings of aggression.&lt;br /&gt;To dream that you are sailing the high seas in a ship, denotes that you are standing tall in times emotional turmoil.&lt;br /&gt;To dream that a ship crashed or is sinking, suggests that some aspect of your life is out of control. You are expressing some fear or uncertainly within your emotional state. You are afraid of losing something close to you because of certain difficulties.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;mmmmmm...........VERY interesting............&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Then there's the night I wrote, "walking on stilts". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;To dream that you are walking on stilts, indicates that you are feeling insecure. A situation or relationship is unstable. You are doing your best trying to balance various aspects of your life.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WELL............there you go.  All that and I didn't even write a check.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-116183992645134668?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/116183992645134668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=116183992645134668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/116183992645134668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/116183992645134668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/10/dreams.html' title='Dreams'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-116141405502974860</id><published>2006-10-20T23:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:18.590-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daddy'/><title type='text'>Last year at this time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/1600/DSC01121.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/320/DSC01121.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This pic is from last October. The costume my kid wore was some sort of Ninja. All previous years were superheroes, except for the first few years when I got away with Pooh and La-La.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my little man informed me today that all I need to buy for his costume this year is a baseball hat with so&amp;so's name on it (I can't remember who but the name sounded familiar). The names of the current baseball and football "stars" all sound familiar to me now. I hear about them every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a difference a year makes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son also informed me this week that none of his socks fit him. I gave him a pair of mine. They fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year at this time, I was working a zillion hours a week for a high-tech firm. This year I'm still pushing papers around a desk, but in my living room with an increasing wardrobe of sweats and slippers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year at this time, I was spending hours on the phone with my dad, always trying to console and help and listen to him lament about the loss of his business (aka his life), and deal with the decision making and paperwork involved in the transition to the new owners. We were planning  a vist for the last week of the year &amp; he was excited. He was relieved to have "something to do" during a week when he couldn't go into work. He was actually excited. It was a good week.&lt;br /&gt;I always had much to report to him on my daily struggles and victories.................as a woman, as a mom, as a friend. He called me more and listened more and had more to say...........than ever before.  This year, at this time,  I'm making the decisions and doing the paperwork involved in the end of his life, and feeling grateful for that job because it helps keep him close to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year at this time, I was happily single. I enjoyed and appreciated the simplicity. My life was full with friends and family. This year at this time, I'm attempting to navigate a relationship while hanging onto my peaceful world of simplicity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a difference a year makes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-116141405502974860?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/116141405502974860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=116141405502974860' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/116141405502974860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/116141405502974860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/10/last-year-at-this-time.html' title='Last year at this time'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-116106765944952487</id><published>2006-10-16T23:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:18.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SLO Lightening Bolts</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/yardsale/271597907/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/104/271597907_75d997d4cb_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/yardsale/271597907/"&gt;SLO Lightening Bolts&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;  Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/yardsale/"&gt;YardSale&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Picture courtesy of a fellow SLO resident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't get this kind of show very often on the Central Coast. It lasted a long time too.&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-116106765944952487?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/116106765944952487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=116106765944952487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/116106765944952487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/116106765944952487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/10/slo-lightening-bolts.html' title='SLO Lightening Bolts'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-116001908900525365</id><published>2006-10-04T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:18.452-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenthood'/><title type='text'>Would you apply for this position?</title><content type='html'>JOB DESCRIPTION:&lt;br /&gt;Long term, team players needed, for challenging permanent work in chaotic environment. Willing to work variable hours, including evening, weekends and frequent 24 hour shifts on call. Some overnight travel required, including trips to primitive camping sites on rainy weekends and endless sports tournaments in far away cities. Travel expenses not reimbursed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Extensive courier duties also required.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RESPONSIBILITIES:&lt;br /&gt;Must possess the physical stamina of a pack mule. Must be willing to face stimulating technical challenges, such as small gadget repair and stuck zippers. Must screen phone calls, maintain calendars and coordinate production of multiple homework projects. Must have ability to plan and organize social gatherings for clients of all ages and mental outlooks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must be willing to be hated, at least temporarily, until someone needs $5&lt;br /&gt;Responsibilities also include floor maintenance and janitorial work throughout the facility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;POSSIBILITY FOR ADVANCEMENT &amp; PROMOTION:&lt;br /&gt;Virtually none. Your job is to remain in the same position for years, without complaining, constantly retraining and updating your skills, so that those in your charge can ultimately surpass you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE:&lt;br /&gt;None available. On-the-job training offered on a continually exhausting basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WAGES AND COMPENSATION:&lt;br /&gt;Get this! You pay them! Offering frequent raises and bonuses. A&lt;br /&gt;Balloon payment is due when they turn 18 because of the assumption that&lt;br /&gt;college will help them become financially independent. When you die, you&lt;br /&gt;give them whatever is left. The oddest thing about this reverse-salary&lt;br /&gt;scheme is that you actually enjoy it and wish you could only do more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BENEFITS:&lt;br /&gt;While no health or dental insurance, no pension, no tuition&lt;br /&gt;reimbursement, no paid holidays and no stock options are offered;&lt;br /&gt;this job supplies limitless opportunities for personal growth and free&lt;br /&gt;hugs for life if you’re lucky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-116001908900525365?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/116001908900525365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=116001908900525365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/116001908900525365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/116001908900525365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/10/would-you-apply-for-this-position.html' title='Would you apply for this position?'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-115977027208221032</id><published>2006-10-01T23:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:18.382-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quotes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;I LOVE reading inspirational and/or funny quotes. I love that SO FEW WORDS can so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;I just found &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.coolwebtoys.com/Toys/l/CoolWebOfTheDay/?s=google&amp;k=famous%20quote&amp;amp;c=532728409"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt; website of daily quotes and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.inspirational-quotes.info/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt; one too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;I love this quote by Jon Stewart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"The Internet is just a world passing around notes in a classroom."&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;And don't we love "PROVERBS".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;After the game, the king and the pawn go into the same box.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;Italian Proverb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;"Out of clutter, find simplicity. From discord, find harmony. In the middle of difficulty, lies opportunity."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;Albert Einstein&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;Good 'ole Albert Einstein. He seemed to place NO LIMITS upon himself. He was a cool guy, if for no other reason than the HAIR. (My father, also named Albert, would have had the same hairdo if he had let it grow.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;I'm taking Al's advice and FINDING SIMPLICITY. I've started a list of SIMPLE PLEASURES:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;++ ice cream cake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;++ clean sheets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;++ chapstick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;++ long hugs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;++ fabric softener&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;++ ice water&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;to be continued.................&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-115977027208221032?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/115977027208221032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=115977027208221032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115977027208221032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115977027208221032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/10/quotes.html' title='Quotes'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-115933510552807735</id><published>2006-09-26T22:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:18.316-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><title type='text'>How I knew I was on a cruise</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/1600/me%20n%20Cruise%20ship.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/320/me%20n%20Cruise%20ship.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt; I knew I was on a cruise because...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* there was A LOT of food&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* i was swimming in ocean water....in a pool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* everyone was drinking by noon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* my hair was frizzy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* we had our own personal maitre d', who put my napkin on my lap every night for dinner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* there was a karoke bar, a disco, a casino, a coffee bar, and a duty-free shop next door to each other&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* i drank too many rum and coke's to count and I still wasn't drunk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* i was unsteady on my feet and I wasn't drunk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* the boat was a' rockin' and they still came knockin'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* there was a lot of yummy food&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* my cell phone said "searching..........." for days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* when I got off the boat, there were Mexican trinkets everywhere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* there were towels shaped into animals on my bed everynight..........along with a mint&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;And this how I know I'm HOME from my Mexican Cruise:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* no one is putting my napkin on my lap for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* no one is serving me dessert&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* my cell phone is ringing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* i have to watch the clock, not so I know when to eat, but to make sure I pick my child up from school&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* i have 100 pictures to edit and download and upload and share on kodakgallery&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* i got on the scale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* i went to the gym&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;* there is work to be done&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-115933510552807735?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/115933510552807735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=115933510552807735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115933510552807735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115933510552807735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/09/how-i-knew-i-was-on-cruise.html' title='How I knew I was on a cruise'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-115847596994317209</id><published>2006-09-16T23:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T00:20:40.721-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ranting'/><title type='text'>Catching up</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/1600/PICT0078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/320/PICT0078.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I just love this pic! This sweet little cowgirl was one of the 30 or so fabulous people I spent Labor Day with at The ranch. It was fun as expected and I did all those things I talked about doing in my last blog post!! And you know what??.............it took a week to recover. I went to bed early every night and took a few naps for good measure. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Of course, gettin' up early for school kicked my butt too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm gettin' used to the school schedule and my munchkin has risen to the challenge of 4th grade. He's got a male teacher for the first time and the guy's into sports. He DIGS him. My little man is ALL about sports these days; watches Cold Pizza every damn morning. Cartoon's are long gone. My advice is not to bet him on any baseball or football game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to the school thing, my life has been busy with my kitchen remodel (which is of course turning into a house remodel). Hell must have froze over 'cause I am the least likely person to do a remodel. Pics on &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/"&gt;my flickr&lt;/a&gt; of course.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I also throw in some work now and again. And I'm still busy with my dad's estate stuff. He seems to be hangin' with me less frequently these days 'cause I think he's at his old work place; the business he ran for 40 yrs. "His" employee's think so too. I've had intense dreams the last two nights about my mother. Sept 12th marked the 29th year of her passing. In some ways, it seems like yesterday. Time is funny that way, huh? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In other news.......as previously blogged about, I regularly procrastinate some dreaded task with yet another dreaded task. I think I was avoiding the mess that is my kitchen, dining room, game room (previously known as the TOY room, and the site of the future office space), and living room, by &lt;strong&gt;cleaning my bedroom&lt;/strong&gt;. It always seems like a good idea to clean. BUT then I start pulling out furniture to vacuum up those pesky dust bunnies (in this case they were large floppy ear'd rabbits). As I was doing this I had this nagging feeling that there was something about this task that was BAD. By the evening I was sniffling and sneezing. OH YEAH..........I remember now.............I get sick when I vacuum months of DUST build-up. I tried to fight it for a week and awoke this morning with an earache. And since I'm boarding a big 'ole cruise ship next weekend and didn't think congestion and earaches mixed well with sea sickness, I got me some antibiotics today. Oh yes I did. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Note to self: next time you find yourself digging behind furniture, first try one of those new allergy medicines!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-115847596994317209?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/115847596994317209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=115847596994317209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115847596994317209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115847596994317209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/09/catching-up.html' title='Catching up'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-115709031158638869</id><published>2006-08-31T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:18.172-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Horoscopes'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>How does Brezsny know? This week's horoscope is particularly foreshadowing. I always find him insightful but he seems to have a crystal ball this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Capricorn Horoscope for week of August 31, 2006&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;If you were at the Burning Man festival in the Nevada desert right now, you might be racing your souped-up tricycle through a miniature golf course-style maze while dressed in a superhero costume, after which you'd enjoy a sushi dinner served on the naked belly of a good-looking clown. Or maybe you'd be exploring the benefits of a short duration marriage to a temporary soulmate selected for you by a seven-year-old girl deity sitting on a neon green plastic throne surrounded by a circle of flame. Since you're probably not at Burning Man, however, you've got to find other ways to carry out your astrological mandate, which is to enjoy semi-crazy acts of liberation you'd normally never try.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I must say that I've been tempted to partake in Burning Man a few times but have not stepped off that particular cliff yet. 20 years ago I would have done it in a heartbeat. Since then I have mostly settled into a comfortable zone of mature, responsible, boring behavior. BUT I am seriously regressing every year (Capricorn's are known for this behavior which further supports my belief in astrology). I figure I'm somewhere in my mid 20's now and will be READY for Burning Man in a few more years. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, I am off to my sister's ranch to try "semi-crazy acts of liberation". It won't be hard seeing as I'm joining at least 30 friends and family for the Labor Day craziness that only the ranch can provide.  Drinks and no driving. Backyard pool fun (my sister's yellow lab let's us use her pool as long as we throw the ball for her...........constantly). Quad running without valley tourists.  Hiking acreage in hopes of spotting deer and wild turkeys but not mountain lions. Driving the mule with a wine cooler in my lap (the kind of mule that has 4 wheel drive) to the river for kayaking and skipping rocks. Bonfires and smores. The opportunity for "semi-crazy acts of liberation" are endless!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-115709031158638869?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/115709031158638869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=115709031158638869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115709031158638869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115709031158638869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/08/how-does-brezsny-know-this-weeks.html' title=''/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-115704658051647379</id><published>2006-08-31T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:18.103-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TV and Movie Reviews'/><title type='text'>For "immature" audiences</title><content type='html'>For those of you not watching Weeds, the greatest cable series since 6 Feet Under and Queer as Folk, here is a link to one of the funniest moments on TV (or cable or whatever ya' wanna call it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FWzOQTFwRBE"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FWzOQTFwRBE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the entire episode (Season 2, show #3):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1anAxtvGCPA"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1anAxtvGCPA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to catch up...........................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a review of Season 1:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ltideBDx6VI"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ltideBDx6VI&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Season 2, show #1:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YFAib3VlXhI"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YFAib3VlXhI&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L9QnKoxl-lA"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L9QnKoxl-lA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Season 2, show #2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yLEWVKbsaMM"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yLEWVKbsaMM&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WARNING: adult content and graphic language!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENJOY&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-115704658051647379?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/115704658051647379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=115704658051647379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115704658051647379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115704658051647379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/08/for-immature-audiences.html' title='For &quot;immature&quot; audiences'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-115666720355407632</id><published>2006-08-27T01:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:18.037-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>some may say</title><content type='html'>"Stand by Me" &amp; "Under the Boardwalk" are a couple of The Drifters' famous songs from the '50s. I danced to these songs tonight, while The Drifters performed live at the 10th Anniversary for the Cal Poly Performing Arts Center. &lt;br /&gt;You know these men have stories to tell. The oldest living original Drifter, Bill Pinkney, sang and boogied for us. He told us "I just turned 81 and while some may say.....I'm 81 and holding......I say, I'm 81 and moving on". What a cool guy. Oh the stories he could tell...........&lt;br /&gt;During the evening, while taking a smoke break with my former coworkers (I worked at the PAC from '97-'00), we talked with The Drifters manager. She said, "Bill is an amazing man; he was a pitcher for the NY Blue Sox Baseball team, that's the Negro leaque ya' know, and he's a highly decorated WWII veteran". Oh the stories he could tell...........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-115666720355407632?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/115666720355407632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=115666720355407632' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115666720355407632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115666720355407632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/08/some-may-say.html' title='some may say'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-115630522985035416</id><published>2006-08-22T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:17.965-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Remodel'/><title type='text'>remodel begins</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/222563141/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/91/222563141_825efbd89e_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/222563141/"&gt;remodel begins&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;  Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/heathers_shots/"&gt;Heather's Shot&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I promise you, here and now, that I won't post every single stupid change I make to my house. I promise not to describe every single type of cabinet or tile or flooring I choose. &lt;br /&gt;It is however a HUGE deal that I am changing ANYTHING about my house, let alone most EVERYTHING about my kitchen and dining room and living room and family room. After 13 years in this house, I will admit, it feels GREAT to be making my house more functional and nicer to live in. &lt;br /&gt;For more pics of today's progress, go to my flickr.&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-115630522985035416?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/115630522985035416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=115630522985035416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115630522985035416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115630522985035416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/08/remodel-begins.html' title='remodel begins'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-115588199571515501</id><published>2006-08-17T23:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:17.891-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><title type='text'>annual retreat</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/218234576/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://static.flickr.com/68/218234576_0594cbb120_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/218234576/"&gt;San Simeon&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/heathers_shots/"&gt;Heather's Shot&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;This weekend I am heading to my one of my favorite places; my annual scrapbooking retreat in San Simeon. People make the funniest faces when I tell them this. "Scrapbooking retreat"?? How weird is that? I tell you here and now; it is not weird at all!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, the key word is RETREAT. 8 women gather at a lovely house on the beach in San Simeon. We are pampered and loved on for 3 days, by the homeowner and her neice. We are fed the most yummy homecooked meals. There are mints on our pillow each night and the most crafty handmade gifts laid out for us each morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have our own spot at a big ole table for scrapbooking, where we spread out our scrapbooks and pictures and stickers and pretty papers. We all bring CD's and share our various musical favorites. And then of course, we TALK and LAUGH, uninterrupted by the daily grind of life. There are women I only see once a year so there is much to catch up on. The passage of time is noted. (My first retreat was in the spring of 2000. I had never been away from my son (he was just 2 yrs old); oh the preparations that I made for his first weekend away from mommy.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN there is the massuese who comes on Saturday, who "works me" like no other. There is shopping in the massive inventory of scrapbooking goodies (I can always find a sticker for absolutely every occasion). There are the walks on the beach (the same beaches my mother hand picked rock after rock for her crafty projects) and sunsets to enjoy. There are naps to take and pictures to take (oh yes..........we take pictures). And before you know it, it's Sunday afternoon and it's time for goodbye hugs. I am rested AND I have pages and pages of scrapbooking done. My son awaits my arrival to check out each page I have completed. There are occasions to remember and stories to tell. That's the magic of pictures.&lt;br clear="all"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-115588199571515501?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/115588199571515501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=115588199571515501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115588199571515501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115588199571515501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/08/annual-retreat_17.html' title='annual retreat'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-115518921459725176</id><published>2006-08-09T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:17.694-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daddy'/><title type='text'>saying goodbye</title><content type='html'>I watched the SUNSET for 60 minutes on my drive home from SB tonight. WOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rewind a few hours before the sunset……………&lt;br /&gt;Saying goodbye to the house&lt;br /&gt;34 years of images, sounds, smells, &amp; stillness&lt;br /&gt;Time in each room&lt;br /&gt;Absorbing the images&lt;br /&gt;Listening to the laughter and the tears of past years&lt;br /&gt;Each room echoes in emptiness&lt;br /&gt;Full of memories&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The STILLNESS&lt;br /&gt;My childhood home, my sister’s home, my mother’s home, my father’s home&lt;br /&gt;No where else is there such stillness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Giving back&lt;br /&gt;The shells and rocks&lt;br /&gt;To the earth&lt;br /&gt;Swinging on the swing&lt;br /&gt;The fog rolls in&lt;br /&gt;Thick fog with salty ocean air&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are piles for donations&lt;br /&gt;The dumpster’s full&lt;br /&gt;The Uhaul’s traveling home&lt;br /&gt;The car’s packed and waiting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad come with me now&lt;br /&gt;The new owners have new memories to make&lt;br /&gt;Dad come with me now&lt;br /&gt;I need you still&lt;br /&gt;I need you always&lt;br /&gt;Hold my hand&lt;br /&gt;We have new adventures ahead&lt;br /&gt;Bring the stillness with you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-115518921459725176?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/115518921459725176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=115518921459725176' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115518921459725176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115518921459725176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/08/saying-goodbye.html' title='saying goodbye'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-115476061235053759</id><published>2006-08-04T22:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:17.625-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><title type='text'>Vegas again?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Since my last post on Monday July 24, I've been a bit busy and by that I mean BUSY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jul 25-28&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;*sort thru 87 emails&lt;br /&gt;*update my check register (and by that I mean, figure out how much I spent in Dallas and how long it'll take me to get out of debt)&lt;br /&gt;*work on bookkeeping client&lt;br /&gt;*deliver some Mary Kay product&lt;br /&gt;*respond to emails &amp; let people know I wasn't ignoring them&lt;br /&gt;*drive Wayne to baseball camp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*print a zillion escrow docs for my dad's house, sign 'em, and fax 'em somewhere&lt;br /&gt;*answer phone calls re: my dad's house from realtor, gardener, escrow agent, horse corral renter and make about a million decisions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;*while doing all of the above, watch 5 days of TiVo’d programs&lt;br /&gt;*pick Wayne up from baseball camp&lt;br /&gt;*get hair cut and colored&lt;br /&gt;*play baseball with Wayne&lt;br /&gt;*go out for drinks with friends&lt;br /&gt;*re-acquaint myself man friend&lt;br /&gt;*meet with new bookkeeping client&lt;br /&gt;*work at another client’s office&lt;br /&gt;*pick up Wayne at friend’s house and take 3 young rowdy boys to Mickey D’s&lt;br /&gt;*forget to write down my hours for bookkeeping clients&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*print more escrow docs, sign ‘em, &amp;amp; fax ‘em&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;*make more decisions about my dad’s house, talk to everyone about it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;*pay dad's bills&lt;br /&gt;*go out for more drinks, discover the Key Lime Pie Martini, &amp; spend time with man friend&lt;br /&gt;*do laundry and pack for Vegas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jul 28 – Aug 2 (VEGAS BABY)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;*get my son on an airplane&lt;br /&gt;*walk thru casinos and show son all the games he CAN’T play&lt;br /&gt;*share hotel room at Excalibur with friend and her two daughters&lt;br /&gt;*see &lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;Mama Mia&lt;/span&gt; (excellent talent)&lt;br /&gt;*walk thru casinos&lt;br /&gt;*breathe in lots of second hand smoke&lt;br /&gt;*sit poolside and drink $13 Pina Coloda&lt;br /&gt;*walk thru casinos&lt;br /&gt;*buy lots of stuff&lt;br /&gt;*breathe in more second hand smoke and some first hand smoke too&lt;br /&gt;*see &lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Mystere&lt;/span&gt; (amazing, amazing, amazing)&lt;br /&gt;*get tattoo&lt;br /&gt;*walk thru casinos and buy more stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*take calls from realtor &amp;amp; make more decisions about my dad’s estate&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*watch Volcano erupt at Mirage&lt;br /&gt;*pass out on hotel bed&lt;br /&gt;*go to &lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;Titanic exhibit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*walk in Vegas heat&lt;br /&gt;*be thankful for A/C in casinos&lt;br /&gt;*eat at $25 buffet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*take more calls re: dad escrow etc.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*give son too-much-money-to-count to play at arcade and win 7 stuffed animals&lt;br /&gt;*make up song with friend that goes: “let’s spend some more money, money we don’t have, money we haven’t made yet……………….oh goodie more stuffed animals”&lt;br /&gt;*sit poolside with another $13 Pina Coloda&lt;br /&gt;*watch tattoo wash off&lt;br /&gt;*hang out with 15 yr old X-sister-in-law (my son’s aunt), her mom, and my x-father-in-law&lt;br /&gt;*spend more money at the arcade at NY NY&lt;br /&gt;*walk thru more casinos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;*pose for pictures with Thunder Down Under stripper guys&lt;br /&gt;*drag everyone to the &lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;Shark Reef&lt;/span&gt; aquarium at Luxor (loved it)&lt;br /&gt;*pass out on hotel bed&lt;br /&gt;*buy more stuff &amp; sing song (see above)&lt;br /&gt;*pack for leaving and wonder where I can get another suitcase for stuffed animals&lt;br /&gt;*watch 3D iMax movie called &lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;Deep Sea&lt;/span&gt; (very, very, very cool)&lt;br /&gt;*get son on airplane&lt;br /&gt;*get online, catch up on blogs, flickr, emails &amp;amp; myspace (save pic of us with strippers &amp; upload to my flickr)&lt;br /&gt;*pass out on my bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aug 3-4&lt;br /&gt;*sleep 'till noon and leave son waiting at baseball camp&lt;br /&gt;*sort thru 66 emails&lt;br /&gt;*work on bookkeeping clients&lt;br /&gt;*respond to emails and let people know I wasn’t ignoring them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*print escrow docs, sign ‘em and fax ‘em&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;*answer calls about dad’s estate and make more decisions&lt;br /&gt;*start on piles of laundry&lt;br /&gt;*start watching 5 days of TiVo'd programs&lt;br /&gt;*go out for dinner and drinks&lt;br /&gt;*re-acquaint myself with man friend&lt;br /&gt;*meet with new bookkeeping client&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*print LAST of escrow docs, sign ‘em, &amp;amp; fax ‘em&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;*pick up house and mop bathroom floor&lt;br /&gt;*try to fill in timesheet for last two weeks&lt;br /&gt;*start uploading pics to kodakgallery.com&lt;br /&gt;*talk to friends &amp; family, and tell them I still love them even though I haven’t called&lt;br /&gt;*go to dinner &amp;amp; drinks with man friend&lt;br /&gt;*do more laundry&lt;br /&gt;*plan for trip to dad's house tomorrow to pack shit since I haven't managed to do it all (&amp;amp; renting back house for 10 days to complete task)&lt;br /&gt;*read blogs&lt;br /&gt;*BLOG&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-115476061235053759?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/115476061235053759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=115476061235053759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115476061235053759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115476061235053759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/08/vegas-again.html' title='Vegas again?'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-115372988000354531</id><published>2006-07-24T00:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T00:19:41.356-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ranting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><title type='text'>weather report</title><content type='html'>I just spent 5 days in Dallas. It was ridiculously hot and humid but that's expected, huh? Why is it so hot and humid here? The humidity is currently 72% and will be 100% at 5am. WTF is with the humidity? The high today was 95 and inside my house was 90. I was dreaming of that A/C pumping like in TX. I went grocery shopping instead. Thank gawwwd for big 'ole chilly grocery stores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, you ask, did I go to Dallas in July? Did I lose my mind? Well, maybe. I joined about 40,000 women for the annual Mary Kay Seminar. I'm guessing I've never been surrounded by so much estrogen in my life! The most interesting part of these seminars is hearing the women telling their stories. Most of them are rags to riches stories but what strikes me is the common thread that all women seem to share. Women struggle with the same multi-tasking life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had never been to TX and was looking forward to hearing the southern drawl. I ended up talking with so many women from all over the country, from Louisiana to Minnesota. So many accents. I said "totally" and "like" alot so they'd know I was from CA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good luck ya' all staying cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-115372988000354531?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/115372988000354531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=115372988000354531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115372988000354531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115372988000354531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/07/weather-report.html' title='weather report'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-115312264296316652</id><published>2006-07-17T00:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:17.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Blog</title><content type='html'>Dear Blog,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello? Yes; it's me. I know it's been a long time. I've been so busy..........not blogging. Yes I know I'm usually "busy" but this time I've been away from my computer/my friend. I've missed you but I had places to go, people to see, &amp; things to do (or was that: people to do and things to see?;-).&lt;br /&gt;I was gone for 5 days last week, and I'm leaving for 5 days again soon, and then I'm home for 5 days, and then gone for 5 days. I'm seeing a pattern here. In between all that travel has been work and fun and sleep and food.&lt;br /&gt;I have so much to tell you but most of it will have to wait........until another time..........or another place. Just know that I think of you often and I won't be gone for long.&lt;br /&gt;I have pictures. I share a lot of them on kodakgallery.com so if you haven't gotten my million links and you feel left out; lemme know for gawwd's sake. I also post a few to &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/"&gt;my flickr&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;XXOO&lt;br /&gt;Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-115312264296316652?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/115312264296316652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=115312264296316652' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115312264296316652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115312264296316652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/07/dear-blog.html' title='Dear Blog'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-115096182664919757</id><published>2006-06-22T00:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:55:35.510-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenthood'/><title type='text'>Sand</title><content type='html'>I said, "you've got sand in your ears".&lt;br /&gt;My son said, "I've got sand EVERYWHERE".&lt;br /&gt;I replied, "If you had gone swimming, you'd have sand in your buttcrack too".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to educate my son because he doesn't have much experience with the beach. It's only 10 min. from our house but we rarely go. I know you think we're crazy, but I've got plenty of reasons........um I mean excuses. First, it's either foggy and cold, or it's hot enough for me to sunburn in 30 min (after I apply the 50 SPF). And the water is cold except for maybe 2 days outa' the year. Fog does scary things to my hair, and I get the kind of sunburn that hurts for days and then itches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And YET I had fun tonight...................at the beach, with a bonfire, bbq, smores, good company, and SAND. I had sand in my food, in my shoes, in my eyes, and I haven't even dug into the rats nest that sits on my head. Summertime is COOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daddy's birthday was today. He would have been 89. He loved his house by the beach. He didn't mind the fog. I miss you every day, daddy. I will enjoy the beach and the fog, and LIVE each day to the fullest. For you. For my son. To honor the life you gave me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-115096182664919757?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/115096182664919757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=115096182664919757' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115096182664919757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115096182664919757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/06/sand.html' title='Sand'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-115026660018688149</id><published>2006-06-13T23:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:17.351-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><title type='text'>What happens in Vegas, is quickly uploaded</title><content type='html'>So I'm not sure what Vegas pictures I'm goin' upload to my blog or my flickr yet 'cause I'm frankly not as bold as Dooce.com. Lifting your skirt up on the Vegas strip at 4am or visiting male strip clubs may not be for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I tried to find a cool pic of the Cirque du Soleil show I saw. It just opened and it's called &lt;a href="http://www.cirquedusoleil.com/CirqueDuSoleil/en/showstickets/love/intro/intro.htm"&gt;The Beatles LOVE&lt;/a&gt;. It was an amazing show. It's a must-see for anyone even remotely aware of the importance of The Beatles and that time in our history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say I had FUN and blew off some steam, in addition to spending boatloads of money. Whatever happened to the $2.99 buffet?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-115026660018688149?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/115026660018688149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=115026660018688149' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115026660018688149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/115026660018688149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/06/what-happens-in-vegas-is-quickly.html' title='What happens in Vegas, is quickly uploaded'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114983633388851303</id><published>2006-06-08T23:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:17.285-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Horoscopes'/><title type='text'>Updates and more</title><content type='html'>Correction to my last post: "THE WIZARD SAYS GO AWAY". That was my son's line in the play tonight. He had another line that was added but I can't remember all of it. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The things actors put up with. Jeez. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The play was so good. I can't tell you how impressed we all were. I have no idea how they remembered all those lines. Obviously I never considered a career in acting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My horoscope (which I faithfully check each Thursday at &lt;a href="http://www.freewillastrology.com"&gt;http://www.freewillastrology.com&lt;/a&gt;) says: &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;This would not be a good week to cast a curse on God in revenge for what you think are his mistakes. Nor would it be a favorable time to draw blasphemous cartoons of saints, or pretend that atheism is any less of a faith-based belief system than religion. In fact, if I were you, Capricorn, I would utter a few prayers, purify your motives, and do some really good deeds--just in case there's even a slim possibility that divine help is abundantly available to you right now. (P.S. From what I can tell, there's more than a slim possibility.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I sure hope my horoscope lets me know WHEN it is a good time to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;draw blasphemous cartoons of saints. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;And for gawwwd's sake (not to be confused with cursing the big "G"), how will I "utter prayers and purify my motives" this weekend in Vegas?? I think I'll cast a curse on Brezsny now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114983633388851303?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114983633388851303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114983633388851303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114983633388851303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114983633388851303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/06/updates-and-more.html' title='Updates and more'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114974913017009810</id><published>2006-06-07T22:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:17.220-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenthood'/><title type='text'>The First Time</title><content type='html'>I just spent a few hours helping to paint the set for my son's Wizard of Oz play. I've NEVER painted a set. How FUN to paint something that only needs to look good from FAR away. My munchkin is playing the "gate guard" and his one line is "Go away. The wizard does not want to see you" or something like that. I will of course video tape the whole thing and keep it for the E!True Hollywood Story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let the Ramblings begin.... My week has been so weird so far. Monday morning started with my left eye watering, and watering, and watering. I took a Claritin but it didn’t stop the flood gates; just made me ADHD (I swear I’m such a cheap date). I got no work done ‘cause I couldn’t sit at my computer long enough to do anything. Plus the light from the computer screen was actually bothering my eye and it was starting to ache. By 5pm I called Sandy since she’s worked for an opthamologist since the beginning of time. “Typical patient”, she said, “doesn’t call until 5pm”.  She, of course, said I probably left my contact in too long, which she has warned me about a zillion times. But did I listen………oh nooooo; after 15 years of contact use, I think I’m such a smarty pants.&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday was spent with more eye watering, and begging rides from friends to get me to the doctor. He gave me some drops with a wonderful anti-inflammatory steroid and antibiotics.  The sunlight is “bad” for my eye, so I’ve closed all the blinds and I’m now living like a bat. I have to wear my glasses for at least a week, which so doesn’t fit into the Vegas weekend coming up, but dark casinos and nightclubs do. ;-))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was spent in my bat-cave, talking with every family member and working on my dad’s estate, with the tiniest bit of work thrown in. Tomorrow I gotta go to the laundromat ‘cause I blew up my dryer and then Fri. is off to my “what happens in Vegas” weekend. Wish me luck getting some work done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114974913017009810?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114974913017009810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114974913017009810' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114974913017009810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114974913017009810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/06/first-time.html' title='The First Time'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114931905410092604</id><published>2006-06-02T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:17.154-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Horoscopes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daddy'/><title type='text'>Good advice</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;My horoscope this week:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;"Race car drivers say that if you're heading toward a wall," writes philosopher Jonathan Zap, "don't look at it. Instead, look at where you want to go." That's good advice for you in the coming week, Capricorn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This reminds me of the lessons I got from my father when we went miniture golfing. He told me to look at the ball, and then as I swing, look at where you want the ball the go. I'd rather think about the ball than "heading towards a wall". Ouch.........the wall makes me tense up and squeeze my eyes shut. Which reminds me of the car accident I was in a year ago, where it helped that I was watching the road ahead of me and unaware of the guy barreling into the back of me.  So not only can you not control what's coming up behind you, but you can't control where the walls are. You must look at where you want to go and your body will follow. Good imagery for the roadway of life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114931905410092604?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114931905410092604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114931905410092604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114931905410092604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114931905410092604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/06/good-advice.html' title='Good advice'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114905456087732456</id><published>2006-05-30T22:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:17.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my twins</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/1600/L&amp;L&amp;amp;me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/320/L%26L%26me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met "my twins" in highschool. I was 16. I could barely tell them apart back then. We have been good friends for 25 years. WOW. How time flies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I went to Chico to celebrate Linnea's wedding reception. She and her hubby had a son two years ago, got married a year ago, and decided it was high time to have a party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a beautiful party at her friend's house, which happened to be a walnut farm in Chico. For more pics, check out &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/"&gt;my flickr&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114905456087732456?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114905456087732456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114905456087732456' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114905456087732456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114905456087732456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/05/my-twins.html' title='my twins'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114845248163027425</id><published>2006-05-23T23:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:17.019-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daddy'/><title type='text'>Admiring the tree</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/1600/Admiring%20the%20tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/320/Admiring%20the%20tree.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We planted a Coastal Live Oak at my sister's ranch in honor of my dad at the memorial services we had last weekend.  We buried a pair of his running shoes and his pipe with the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of my sister's was on her way to visit her this week, and told her my father's spirit came to her. She said he kept telling her she needed to stop and get a tree to take to the ranch. He told her to get a big tree that would be good for providing shade after a good run. She didn't know about the tree we planted or that he was a runner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114845248163027425?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114845248163027425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114845248163027425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114845248163027425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114845248163027425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/05/admiring-tree.html' title='Admiring the tree'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114845080893105673</id><published>2006-05-23T22:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T00:47:04.772-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><title type='text'>I wonder</title><content type='html'>I wonder, if I counted, how many times a day I make a "judgement" about the people I see and connect with that day. I wonder how often I make assumptions about people based on their appearance or their attitude, and then follow the assumption with an opinion about that person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Standing in the line at the grocery store is good place to make judgements, isn't it? Some poor woman with a whining toddler gets my empathy every time. I'm suddenly talking with that toddler in an attempt to distract the child, if only for a minute, so that poor mother can get a moments peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not just talking about negative judgements but ANY kind of opinion we form in our busy little minds. And isn't it amazing how our judgements change for people we've known for a long time, since we have so much more information to base our opinions on. For those people we have so many judgements; "oh........there she/he goes again..............making the same mistake". How easy is it to see other people's patterns and how obvious the solution seems?! "He/she should break up with so-and-so for gawwd's sake..............I'm over it already so why aren't they?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judgements are tricky because no one really knows what it's like to be in someone else's shoes. Even if we've had a similiar experience, we're NOT that other person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The really cool thing about experiencing tough times is that you CAN gain empathy. My father called it "character building". And hopefully as you get more "character", you get more empathy. And while I have plently of judgements (and even let them slip out sometimes), I'm lucky because empathy comes naturally for me, and mostly I don't have to work too hard at accepting others. Why can't everyone be like that? I guess I don't have much empathy for people without empathy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114845080893105673?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114845080893105673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114845080893105673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114845080893105673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114845080893105673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-wonder.html' title='I wonder'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114802200841799212</id><published>2006-05-18T23:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:16.885-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Overheard'/><title type='text'>He said, I said</title><content type='html'>He said, "son, wanna come help me bring in the groceries?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son said, "not right now dad, I'm in the middle of a video game".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "I guess I could get up and help you".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "no...no......don't get up. It all works out. I go to the store, buy the groceries, carry them in, put them away, and cook them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "so I should get up?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114802200841799212?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114802200841799212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114802200841799212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114802200841799212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114802200841799212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/05/he-said-i-said.html' title='He said, I said'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114707301662337366</id><published>2006-05-08T00:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:16.824-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ranting'/><title type='text'>11 Days</title><content type='html'>Still grumpy. I may never be nice again. This is definitely the stupidiest time EVER to quit smoking. Gaining a few pounds. Working on a plan not to gain more than five. Chew chew chew. Graduated to the whole piece of gum. Starting to look forward to the "peppery" taste. Finished reading 7 Steps to a Smoke Free Life (again) and decided first reward should be a massage. It was awesome. Gonna' get back to gettin' them every month. As my massuer says "it's good to be the queen".&lt;br /&gt;Other than being grumpy and avoiding the phone (a smoking trigger) and feeling sorry for myself, I'm looking forward to summer. 5 more weeks of school for the munchkin and then he'll have the first real summer of his life. No summer school; no camp. Thinking we'll take golf lessons and take trips and visit friends and ride bikes and find pools to swim in.&lt;br /&gt;It's all about the light at the end of the tunnel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114707301662337366?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114707301662337366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114707301662337366' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114707301662337366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114707301662337366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/05/11-days.html' title='11 Days'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114655078898938900</id><published>2006-05-01T22:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:16.759-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ranting'/><title type='text'>5 days</title><content type='html'>5 days of not smoking. Getting very grumpy. Fantasizing about secret smoking. I hate secret smoking but it's starting to sound good. Chomp chomp chomp goes the nicotine gum. There is NEVER a good time to stop smoking. But when your son says "You have to quit smoking mommy. I don't want you to die", you have to quit. I promised him Apr 24 and then renogotiated 3 more days. Those were 3 glorious days.&lt;br /&gt;So I've moved my after-hours blogging from the garage, previously known as the smoking lounge, to my bedroom. The one cool thing about the move is TV watching capabilities. Just finished watching Hogan Knows Best. Kinda like Ozzy but you can understand what he's saying. I watched like 20 hours straight of The Surreal Life this weekend. Who knew it was going to end with an episode of the cast coming to KSBY in SLO. I guess I should watch the news and I woulda known they were here. Missed a major party with Alexis Arguette going off on lame ass college boys at Mission Grill. Hopefully she knows we're not all that small minded in SLO.&lt;br /&gt;I've been missing all kinds of good VH1/MTV/E! TV 'cause I've been watching my usual favs on TiVo in my living room. What's on your TiVo? I've been watching HUFF, Desperate Housewives (way funny this week), Grey's Anatomy, new fav Big Love, and of course always gotta watch Ellen.&lt;br /&gt;Ohhh.................phone ringing. It's Sandy. She's giving me hugs over the phone and says I gotta go to bed. Good advice as always. Nighty night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114655078898938900?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114655078898938900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114655078898938900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114655078898938900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114655078898938900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/05/5-days.html' title='5 days'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114585808015939861</id><published>2006-04-23T22:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:16.694-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daddy'/><title type='text'>hands</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/133287353/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://static.flickr.com/49/133287353_dc7ab8e5a4_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/133287353/"&gt;hands&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/heathers_shots/"&gt;Heather's Shot&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;These hands held mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father's hands lived 88 years. They danced, they threw footballs and baseballs, they lifted weights, they canoed, they gardened, they drafted, they invented the wall saw, they married, they held three daughters and three grandsons, they held the newspaper every day, and turned page after page of the National Geographic every month, they cooked and did laundry, they drove, and they held mine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My father's hands were always busy. Even when he sat still he would twiddle his thumbs.&lt;br /&gt;In the hospital, I kept telling my dad he could rest. At one point he said "tired of resting". I laughed and then he laughed.  So now I say, "move in peace".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114585808015939861?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114585808015939861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114585808015939861' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114585808015939861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114585808015939861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/04/hands.html' title='hands'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114473797361867188</id><published>2006-04-10T23:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:16.620-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daddy'/><title type='text'>Still Standing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/126828982/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://static.flickr.com/49/126828982_61620aed26_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/126828982/"&gt;Playhouse&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/heathers_shots/"&gt;Heather's Shot&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;My playhouse is still standing (barely). It's 34 years old this year. Although my father is not standing right now, he too is fighting against time and nature.&lt;br /&gt;My dad has been in critical condition at the hospital for 1 week. He got a cold which turned into pneumonia. At 88 years old, his body must fight hard. He quit smoking 30 yrs ago, works out at the gym 3 nights a week, runs (or shuffles) on the weekends now, works 5 days a week, and shops only at the health food store. He's quite the character. He can cuss up a storm and would not be surprised that I'm telling everyone he's a "stubborn shit". He sure does have a lot of people praying for him. His older brother and younger sister call every day. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tonight he responded to the nurse when she told him to move his hands and his feet. The "good drugs" were turned off this morning. The plan for tomorrow is to get the ventillator out but they're just waiting for him to wake up enough. The ventillator and drugs have kept him quiet, but now we want him to wake up and start cussing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He's got a line of us waiting for him to get better so we can slap him for not going to doctor earlier. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For a few more pic of my visit to his house last week, go &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/80748968/"&gt;Me n my pops.&lt;br clear="all"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114473797361867188?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114473797361867188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114473797361867188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114473797361867188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114473797361867188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/04/still-standing.html' title='Still Standing'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114413338247665210</id><published>2006-04-03T23:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:16.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'>POM POMs</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lovechop/95101741/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://static.flickr.com/32/95101741_57beeb352d_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lovechop/95101741/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/lovechop/"&gt;glamorama&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Furballs of LUV". That's what their mom calls 'em. These POM POM's the cutest furballs I've ever seen. OMG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.janeluvsdick.com/"&gt;Jane &amp; Dick &lt;/a&gt;LUV their POM POM's. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Josephine (Jo Jo)  is in front. She was an only child until last year when she graciously took Dragon into her *circle of LUV". At 11 yrs old, she's a wise woman in her prime. Dragon was left at the humane society after losing his previous master to old age, but has been given a second chance with his amazing new family. It's a sweet story dammit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114413338247665210?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114413338247665210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114413338247665210' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114413338247665210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114413338247665210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/04/pom-poms.html' title='POM POMs'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114405301442192032</id><published>2006-04-03T00:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:16.493-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ranting'/><title type='text'>Springing-Forward SUCKS</title><content type='html'>Spring has always been my favorite time of year. Green hills and colorful flowers popping up everywhere. My camera calls to me, "take me out.........take pictures of all that color............please please please".  I also love springtime sun. I can enjoy some direct sun for more than 15 minutes (with my daily spf 50-something), get a little color (okI actually just connect my freckles but it's color dammit), and get some good 'ole Vitamin D, and not get sunburned. The timer's gotta come out for the summer sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's a dirty trick when the spring solstice is followed by this stupid time change. Congrats to all of those you like it. When you leave work, it's still light. Yippeee for you. You better go out and take a bike ride or hike or whatever the heck you need light for at 7pm. I better see your joy and happiness over this late light thing!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, on the other hand, am miserable because I am a night owl. I struggle to get myself to bed before I turn into a pumpkin (or purn into a tumpkin), and this time change makes that HARDER!! And then there's the morning. I am dead asleep at 7:30am when my alarm begins that WTF-is-that noise. You can imagine how delighted I am that the rudeness-that-is-my-alarm will actually begin at 6:30am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND to add insult to injury, as you all know, my son is a night owl too. The dreaded part of my day is getting him to fall asleep. Tonight he flopped about in bed, a good fish-out-of-water imitation, until 11 instead of 10.  Oh the joy of it all............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for those of you who WISH you could sleep in, enjoy your next day off; maybe you'll sleep 'till 8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK. My rant is almost over. I must explain the night owl thing to you morning people. Just IMAGINE if the world starting work at 5am. Imagine that you normally sleep until 6am. Imagine the alarm going off at 3:30am so you can be at work at 5. EVERY WORK DAY.  3:30am. What do you feel like at that hour? Just imagine...........&lt;br /&gt;And then just for kicks...........imagine trying to go bed at 8pm. Hurry hurry. Better be alseep by 8:30p if you want a decent nights sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I better go so I can ENJOY my 5 hrs of sleep tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you only need 5 hrs of sleep..............I have nothing to say to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114405301442192032?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114405301442192032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114405301442192032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114405301442192032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114405301442192032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/04/springing-forward-sucks.html' title='Springing-Forward SUCKS'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114379101807668071</id><published>2006-03-30T23:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:16.424-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='It&apos;s all about the HAIR'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ranting'/><title type='text'>It's ALL about the hair</title><content type='html'>Thus begins the TAKE-OVER of my real hair. &lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/120625616/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://static.flickr.com/40/120625616_4056b7fcb6_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/120625616/"&gt;It's ALL about the hair&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/heathers_shots/"&gt;Heather's Shot&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;6 months of curly, thick, coarse, frizz growth. The bi-annual $400 chemical CHI straightening is not in my budget these days, so I am becoming reaquainted with my curly roots. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This $200 CHI flat iron is my SALVATION. There are no words to accurately describe the LOVE I feel for &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/120625615/" target="_blank"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; product.&lt;a href="http://just4beauty.com/chiorginal.htmltarget="&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;Back in the 90's when I managed to grow all my layers out (except my bangs of course, which is a whole 'nother topic), I had some cute little curls, which could only be seen when I pulled the top layer back in a pony tail. The top layer, which is the equivalent of two heads of hair, is the lovely stuff I call "the frizz" and would expand to fit &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/90953572/in/set-1011733/"&gt;this frame&lt;/a&gt; if I had let it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So after all these years I have tamed &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/68220987/in/set-97000/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. My mother tried with a variety of &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/68221067/in/set-97000/"&gt;not-so-cool do's&lt;/a&gt;. And I tried &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/3899823/in/set-1011733/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. But in the end it was one hot, 175 degree, mother-f&amp;amp;*%ing, cuticle-sealing, negative ion tool that provided the CURE. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And not only am I grateful for the magical CHI flat iron (maybe I can be their spokesperson), but there are two laides I MUST THANK. First.......I'd like to thank the Academy...........oh no.......wrong speech. Seriously, I will be forever indebted to my dear friend Tawna who begged me for 3 yrs to grow it out after the cutting-it-all-off phase in 2000. The &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/3899819/in/set-1011733/"&gt;growing-out phase &lt;/a&gt;was NOT pretty but we all survived somehow. And THEN my sister, Vikki, had the nerve to ask me to &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/3899337/"&gt;JUST TRY&lt;/a&gt; the flat iron that she herself had used for years. It took &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/3855002/in/set-1011733/"&gt;some practice&lt;/a&gt; and lots of patience. And who knew hair grew so fast when it's straight!! I may eventually do the &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/3854937/"&gt;chemical thing&lt;/a&gt; again but in the meantime I can enjoy a curly kink or two 'cause I've got THE CURE. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114379101807668071?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114379101807668071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114379101807668071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114379101807668071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114379101807668071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/03/its-all-about-hair.html' title='It&apos;s ALL about the hair'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114197626167723140</id><published>2006-03-09T23:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:49:03.376-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenthood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><title type='text'>Moms</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/1600/Me%20n%20Sandy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/320/Me%20n%20Sandy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom's are with you, in your head, in your heart, and in your soul. No one knows you better. When you hug them it feels like *home*.&lt;br /&gt;I have TWO moms. I'm lucky that way. This woman was my mom's best friend, her son was my best friend. When I was 12 and my mother passed away, she continued to be my mother's best friend.................by being my 2nd MOM. No hesitation. No second thought. We were 2 hrs from one another but that never stopped her. She has raised 3 children, a husband, a job; but that has never stopped her.&lt;br /&gt;I spent most vacations at her home in Covina (NOT a popular vacation spot, but it was the best PLACE on earth.........'cause wherever she is, is HOME).&lt;br /&gt;One of our favorite memories is when she surprised me at school on my 13th birthday (a 2 hr drive for her). She was THERE for me. I remember beaming with pride and thinking, "see everyone, I have a mom and I am LOVED".&lt;br /&gt;The truly amazing part of this story is that she continues to be THERE for me, with her head, her heart, &amp; her soul. I'm 41 and she has been there EVERY step of the way. Amazing is what that is!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have watched dad's (and a few moms) after divorce; not calling enough, not writing enough, not being there enough. They don't understand. Parenthood is being THERE whether it's on the phone or email or mail!! It's really that simple.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114197626167723140?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114197626167723140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114197626167723140' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114197626167723140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114197626167723140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/03/moms.html' title='Moms'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114197424951083117</id><published>2006-03-09T22:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:16.278-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><title type='text'>Girls weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/1600/Group.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/320/Group.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is me with my mom, sisters, aunt, &amp; niece. I don't share blood with them but I share everything else! I was 2 yrs old when this family moved in next door. I don't remember my life without them. I have shared my entire life; ups &amp; downs, marriages &amp;amp; divorces, deaths &amp; life, tears &amp;amp; giggles.&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend we shared a lot of giggles, and some I'm-going-to-pee-my-pants laughter!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OVERHEARD this weekend:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You’re LUCKY I called you”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh My! I’ve never seen my bathroom looking like this.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Gimme some of that blanket”. “Are you cold too?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Come in the Jacuzzi.” “No. I’m too cold”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why are you covering your eyes?” "I’m waiting till my grandma stops doing that." (index finger moving in and out of circle made by other hand).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He wouldn’t make his bed right so I shot him. When I was 9, I threw her in the pool. She was under a year old. I thought no one would notice.” Apparently Big Sis wanted to be an only child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One side of the cell phone conversation while driving: “Where are you? You lost us. &lt;em&gt;silence &lt;/em&gt;&lt;silence&gt;&lt;silence&gt;You’re all bitches.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Your lips move but I can`t hear what you`re saying&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Look at that cute little wine tumbler”. Then Big Sis assuming we can read lips across a crowded table/grill in the restaurant says something silently to us. To which little sister and I mouth, “WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?” To which big sister SHOUTS, “&lt;strong&gt;I put it in my purse&lt;/strong&gt;”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s been how long since your last period?” “Really? Cool”. Then Little Sis says to Aunt’s husband (across the table/grill): “How was your last period?” To which he replies. “good but spotty. Just glad it came” (wipes brow in relief).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;To protect the not-so-innocent, I didn't print all of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114197424951083117?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114197424951083117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114197424951083117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114197424951083117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114197424951083117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/03/girls-weekend.html' title='Girls weekend'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114189125147841911</id><published>2006-03-09T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:16.209-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ranting'/><title type='text'>update on comments and dooce</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/dooce/70520607/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://static.flickr.com/18/70520607_b190759962_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/dooce/70520607/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/dooce/"&gt;dooce&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm back to &lt;a href="http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/02/comments.html"&gt;rant some more&lt;/a&gt; about comments. Dooce's &lt;a href="http://www.dooce.com/archives/daily/02_27_2006.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt; previously mentioned now has 1544 comments!!! AND the-one-and-only &lt;a href="http://www.dooce.com/"&gt;Heather A&lt;/a&gt;. has opened comments on other posts since then and has 100+ comments on each of those!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dooce.com/archives/daily/03_08_2006.html"&gt;Today's post&lt;/a&gt; is about farting and I posted the 191th comment. WHO knew so many people had farting-at-the-gym stories?? Comic relief is what it's all about here people!! Or is it TMTOUH (too much time on our hands)???&lt;br clear="all"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114189125147841911?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114189125147841911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114189125147841911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114189125147841911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114189125147841911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/03/update-on-comments-and-dooce_09.html' title='update on comments and dooce'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114171641741899326</id><published>2006-03-06T22:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:16.079-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TV and Movie Reviews'/><title type='text'>Oscars</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/1600/78th_TheronC_02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/320/78th_TheronC_02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT is that on her shoulder? A pillow in case she gets sleepy during the 78 hour Academy Awards? If she needed a leftover bridesmaid dress, I have plenty. And WHERE are her boobs; I see only nipples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best thing about this years Oscars was that the best film of 2005 actually WON &lt;strong&gt;BEST PICTURE&lt;/strong&gt;!!! CRASH is an amazing film and I said so on &lt;a href="http://hasg.blogspot.com/2005/06/1-degree-of-separation.html"&gt;my blog last June&lt;/a&gt;. And althought I'm so glad everyone got to hear the song, In The Deep, the &lt;a href="http://www.crashfilm.com/"&gt;soundtrack &lt;/a&gt;(all of which is FABULOUS) is mainly moving music by Mark Isham, AND my favorite tune is Maybe Tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know about Keira or Amy whoever or Rachel, but Meryl Streep was fabulous in &lt;a href="http://www.primemovie.net/index.php"&gt;Prime&lt;/a&gt;. Totally overlooked? And although Mr &amp;amp; Mrs Smith is not Oscar material I suppose, it was a GREAT movie from 2005.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114171641741899326?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114171641741899326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114171641741899326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114171641741899326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114171641741899326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/03/oscars.html' title='Oscars'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114128497103216354</id><published>2006-03-01T23:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:16.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The "Art" ? of Procrastination</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;On Monday I spent hours on the Verizon website, looking at my bill, and figuring out where I went wrong last month; entering in number after number to see if my “contacts” were also Verizon users, so I can talk for however many damn minutes I want to. I was AVOIDING the “box o’ receipts”, aka my bookkeeping client. The crazy thing about procrastination is that I had been PUTTING OFF the cell phone issue for weeks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/68220987/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://static.flickr.com/12/68220987_0633930a77_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/68220987/"&gt;Me&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/heathers_shots/"&gt;Heather's Shot&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've got this phrase stuck in my head: The Art of Procastination. Not really ART is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Art (at least at grade school level) is the glue and cutting and coloring I did for 3 hours tonight in an attempt to create a Solar System display for my son's Science Fair project, DUE tomorrow. Procrastination is the thing we did for the last two weeks to avoid doing the Science Fair project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet procrastination seems to be working for me. To avoid doing something I don't feel like doing RIGHT NOW, I do something that I actually need to get done too. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The classic example is scrubbing your toilet to avoid homework. And although my school days are long gone, I have a child so they’re not really over. &lt;em&gt;Note to self: you don't need to have those dreams anymore where you can't find your classroom, and you forgot you had a test, and you're afraid you're not going to pass your math class, and you suddenly realize you're naked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Where was I? Oh yes……procrastination. I often do laundry at 9 or 10pm while telling my child to get back in bed fifty gazillion times. I am avoiding the inevitable; laying down with/on my child. I’m like a human straight-jacket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just all comes down to what task I’m *perceiving* to be too overwhelming or un-do-able at that particular moment in time. The part that WORKS is that I get everything done EVENTUALLY.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Right now I'm blogging to avoid going to bed. I don't think I could go a day without a good PROCRASTINATION (or "rationalization",  for that matter.........remember Jeff Goldblum's character in The Big Chill). Wait! I just rationalized procrastination!! &lt;br clear="all"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114128497103216354?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114128497103216354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114128497103216354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114128497103216354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114128497103216354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/03/art-of-procrastination.html' title='The &quot;Art&quot; ? of Procrastination'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114112054078312792</id><published>2006-02-28T01:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:15.945-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ranting'/><title type='text'>COMMENTS!!!</title><content type='html'>As of right now, there are OVER 600 comments on &lt;a href="http://www.dooce.com/archives/daily/02_27_2006.html"&gt;Dooce's post tonight&lt;/a&gt;!!!! Jesus H.C. !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even get a comment or two. I am sooooooo doing something wrong. OK, so I'm not Heather-frickin'-Armstrong, AND I don't make a living with my blog...........but still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm ASKING..........................what do I have to do to get a comment or 2??????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can tell me. Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're just too busy? Don't wanna be the only one posting a comment? My posts are lame? No one's actually reading it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have nothing to say about PEACE? Parenthood? Middle Aged Girls Gone Wild? Deep philosophical musings? Katharine Hepburn's claim that "plain women know more about love"? Lemon Festivals? Ski trips? And that was just February.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaahhhhhh. OK. I feel better. Rant over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114112054078312792?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114112054078312792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114112054078312792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114112054078312792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114112054078312792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/02/comments.html' title='COMMENTS!!!'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114059327846341928</id><published>2006-02-21T23:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:15.882-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><title type='text'>This is what PEACE looks like</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/102930296/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://static.flickr.com/27/102930296_d70a924a12_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/heathers_shots/102930296/"&gt;This is what PEACE looks like&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/heathers_shots/"&gt;Heather's Shot&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I got this pic in an email a while back, WITH the title. I love to go back and look it every once and awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Imagine there's no countries,&lt;br /&gt;It isnt hard to do,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to kill or die for,&lt;br /&gt;No religion too,&lt;br /&gt;Imagine all the people&lt;br /&gt;living life in peace...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br clear="all"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114059327846341928?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114059327846341928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114059327846341928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114059327846341928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114059327846341928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/02/this-is-what-peace-looks-like.html' title='This is what PEACE looks like'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114059289572373875</id><published>2006-02-21T23:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:51:24.056-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parenthood'/><title type='text'>More about parenthood</title><content type='html'>I was sitting on the toilet tonight and realized I DIDN'T have to wipe it off first! When did that happen? WHEN did my son stop peeing all over the toilet?&lt;br /&gt;And while sitting there I also realized he hadn't DUMPED out all his shampoo (or mine) into the bathtub lately. WHEN did he stop doing that??&lt;br /&gt;I actually spent a moment or two trying remember. As if it matters. As if I'm going to write it in his baby book. (There's no place in his baby book for that...................but my blog's a good place, huh?) (I know I &lt;a href="http://hasg.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-was-not-properly-warned-about.html"&gt;ranted&lt;/a&gt; about it a few months ago on my blog).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are two HUGE events that have come and gone, like so many others in his little life. I was too busy obsessing about trying a new bedtime routine and bribing him to do chores,................. to notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parenthood!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114059289572373875?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114059289572373875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114059289572373875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114059289572373875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114059289572373875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/02/more-about-parenthood.html' title='More about parenthood'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-114025956028811554</id><published>2006-02-18T02:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:15.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank Gawwwwd</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/1600/UGG%20with%20heel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/320/UGG%20with%20heel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My feet are killin' me after 4 hours of dancing in these heels but.................&lt;br /&gt;Thank gawwwd&lt;br /&gt;I have shoes that keep me warm AND look sexy&lt;br /&gt;Thank gawwwd&lt;br /&gt;I have a cold concrete garage floor to walk on to soothe my achin' feet&lt;br /&gt;Thank gawwwd&lt;br /&gt;I'm 4o something so I can enjoy a night out on the town, and come home by myself &amp; know I haven't missed a damn thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank gawwwd&lt;br /&gt;I have two of the best girlfriends a girl could have who are also 40 something&lt;br /&gt;Thank gawwwd&lt;br /&gt;One of those girlfriends can drink like a 300 lb sailor and still drive me home safely&lt;br /&gt;Thank gawwwd&lt;br /&gt;I have a child old enough to make himself breakfast and let me sleep in&lt;br /&gt;Thank gawwwd&lt;br /&gt;I have really good &lt;a href="http://www.marykay.com/heatherinslo/skincare/default.aspx"&gt;skin care products &lt;/a&gt;to take off my makeup (to remove the 2am-tammy-faye-baker look) and moisturizer to soothe my tired skin&lt;br /&gt;Thank gawwwd&lt;br /&gt;I'm not 20 something so when my thighs ache from grindin for hours, I can appreciate a "night out on the town"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-114025956028811554?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/114025956028811554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=114025956028811554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114025956028811554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/114025956028811554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/02/thank-gawwwwd.html' title='Thank Gawwwwd'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-113999695260150142</id><published>2006-02-15T01:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:15.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it started underground</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/emdot/99620557/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://static.flickr.com/38/99620557_9292267fbc_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/emdot/99620557/"&gt;it started underground&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/emdot/"&gt;emdot&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cool pic and even cooler title ("it started underground"). Emdot strikes again! &lt;br clear="all"&gt;My day started as all days start; UNDER THE SHEETS. It's warm and lovely and so very, very difficult to leave. But after hitting the *snooze* a few times, I got up to make sure my munchkin was waking up. He was sleeping on the top bunk of his new jungle gym.......um, I mean....bunk bed, so he can't reach his alarm clock. He was actually still sleeping, which is unusual, but after a 3 day weekend what can you expect. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I changed outfits (or metaphorically, “hats”) 5 times today. FIRST, I wore a sweats ensemble for the driving-the-kid-to-school and working-at-home-bookkeeping gig. I tried once again to figure out the “box-o’-receipts” from one client that typifies the worst-kind-of-I’ve-avoided-for-20yrs-bookkeeping job. After an hour or so of frustration, I switched to another bookkeeping job, &lt;a href="http://www.insomniacvideo.com/"&gt;Insomniac Video&lt;/a&gt; (my first official HB&amp;amp;C client). Whew……..much better!! Dream-job-handed-to-me-on-a-silver-platter-by-good-friend-slash-organized-bookkeeper. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;NEXT, I changed into a red shirt and jeans outfit for my son’s valentine’s party at school. I was the only parent who showed and boy was I proud of my frosting and MnM’s for cookie decorating project! YUM. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;AFTER which I rushed home to shower off the frosting and change into my see-a-bookkeeping-client attire, which always includes navy blue (it’s a nerdy actg thing). I was over dressed for the munchkin’s basketball practice but hey......... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And just when I think my laundry basket is full, I changed into a sleep-shirt for the putting-the-kid-to-bed hour. (I somehow think that’s going to fool him into thinking I too am going to sleep). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And NOW I sit here in my sweats and slippers get-up for the blogging portion of the evening, and am ready to crawl back under the warm and lovely SHEETS.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-113999695260150142?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/113999695260150142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=113999695260150142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/113999695260150142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/113999695260150142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/02/it-started-underground_15.html' title='it started underground'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-113990125850816329</id><published>2006-02-13T23:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T23:27:15.561-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waxing Poetic'/><title type='text'>Path</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/74802212@N00/90596532/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://static.flickr.com/35/90596532_1f2f84d3a7_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/74802212@N00/90596532/"&gt;Little Hill 1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/74802212@N00/"&gt;soniczen&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;When the way comes to an end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;             CHANGE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000099;"&gt;and having changed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;             &lt;strong&gt;PASS THROUGH&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;author unknown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br clear="all"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-113990125850816329?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/113990125850816329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=113990125850816329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/113990125850816329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/113990125850816329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/02/path.html' title='Path'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-113981918866123934</id><published>2006-02-13T00:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T00:16:44.503-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Horoscopes'/><title type='text'>Good to know</title><content type='html'>Capricorn Horoscope for week of February 9, 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Happy Valentine Daze, Capricorn! To begin our meditation on love, let's turn our attention to your appearance. I think you owe a huge debt of gratitude to the fact that you don't have the face and body of a dazzling supermodel or gorgeous hunk. The temptation to rely on your physical attractiveness at the expense of developing your character would be virtually irresistible. In the coming days, this fact will bring you a fresh batch of benefits, including a subtle breakthrough in your romantic life. Here's your quote of the week, from Katharine Hepburn: "It is the plain women who know about love. The beautiful women are too busy being fascinating."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-113981918866123934?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/113981918866123934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=113981918866123934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/113981918866123934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/113981918866123934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/02/good-to-know.html' title='Good to know'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9562460.post-113956122917595390</id><published>2006-02-10T00:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T00:25:40.827-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><title type='text'>Pucker Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/1600/Lemon%20Festival.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6512/701/320/Lemon%20Festival.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;La Fete du Citron&lt;/span&gt;. The 2001 &lt;a href="http://www.menton.com/citrons/2001phu.htm"&gt;Lemon Festival&lt;/a&gt; in France.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.menton.com/citrons/2005phu.htm"&gt;2005 Lemon Festival en Espana.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A NEW February celebration. They say we can't Mardi Gras. To hell with 'em. I'd put lemon's in my bra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;a href="http://www.menton.com/citrons/histoiru.htm"&gt;tradition&lt;/a&gt; started in 1895.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm liking this game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The “Moucouleti” tradition&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;During the evening of the second parade – called “corso” -, people from Menton give themselves to the traditional entertainment of the “Moucouleti” or “Moccoletti”, small candles they hold in their hands. The game consists in keeping your flame on and blowing off the one of your neighbour! It’s a pretext game for love meetings, just like in the tale “Short Story of the carnivals of Menton” by Pierre Masséna: “In this game the young man, using all of his skills, has to try and blow off the candle of the young girl, who has her candle above her head with the calumet lighted. When the young man succeed he can light the darkened wick again and have a thanks kiss.”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9562460-113956122917595390?l=hasg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/feeds/113956122917595390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9562460&amp;postID=113956122917595390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/113956122917595390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9562460/posts/default/113956122917595390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hasg.blogspot.com/2006/02/pucker-up.html' title='Pucker Up'/><author><name>Leslie Wilson Corsbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
