<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093116</id><updated>2009-02-20T20:47:57.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Unusually Unusual</title><subtitle type='html'>I just want to live...I don't want to fit
I just want to try...I don't want to quit
If that makes me crazy, I am.~Meredith Brooks</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jules</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07383510406408690643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093116.post-109349069083195068</id><published>2004-08-25T22:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-25T23:28:04.200-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lest you believe ...</title><content type='html'>...I died in a violent water balloon fight durring the BYOF birthday party...You may stop fretting now...I've only been locked out &lt;img src="http://home.ntelos.net/~juleaky/smilies/251.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...the party? It was &lt;strong&gt;totally&lt;/strong&gt; fabulous!  There was much cake and ice cream...and water balloons...and swimming pool fun and pinata whacking...there were many floaty balloons and many many laughing children...and FORKS!!  And their parents?  Also happy :)  Hanging out relaxing on the deck while we entertained their precious bundles of spaztic energy ....and there were presents and also many dollars! &lt;img src="http://home.ntelos.net/~juleaky/smilies/happydance3.gif"&gt;  I've not done the whole 6 year old birthday party scene too many times ....OK, exactly 1...but I'm almost certain that it was a HUGE success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediately following the BYOF gala birthday party of the year...I promptly sucumbed to the dreaded mysterious illness which apparently wasn't at all effected by the antibiotics....I am just now..almost better.  Which means...I can stay up past 10pm &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(although that doesn't mean I can get up on time....which was displayed quite nicely this morning as I realized I'd &lt;strong&gt;slept through the alarm &lt;/strong&gt; for an hour and 34 minutes)&lt;/span&gt;  AND I can swallow without gritting my teeth in pain...most of the day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....but still alive..so that's half the battle there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7093116-109349069083195068?l=unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/feeds/109349069083195068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093116&amp;postID=109349069083195068' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/109349069083195068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/109349069083195068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/2004/08/lest-you-believe.html' title='Lest you believe ...'/><author><name>Jules</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07383510406408690643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07151960911940565830'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093116.post-109159047094278063</id><published>2004-08-03T23:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-03T23:41:26.496-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Show us your toes!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://wouldacouldachoulda.blogspot.com"&gt;Mir&lt;/a&gt; started this when she posted her &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/289/946/1024/bluetoes.jpg"&gt;toes&lt;/a&gt; a few days ago...then with much begging and pleading, showed us her new &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/289/946/1024/newshoe.jpg"&gt;fan-freakin-tastic deal....strappy sandals&lt;/a&gt;. Her lovely toes prompted me to pamper myself and get my very own toes done...I didn't do them myself...I splurged on a spa pedicure when I went to get my nails done. I've wanted to treat myself to one of those for such a very long time..and it was HEAVEN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she pulled out the very small &lt;em&gt;tool &lt;/em&gt;that appeared to be a miniature cheese slicer....I knew it was coming...I'd been warned of all the odds and ends they pull out on you...But everyone assured me...it doesn't tickle...LIARS! Ok...tickles seemingly vary between foot owners...and I'll give into the fact that perhaps my feet are just more ticklish than the ones who swore to me that I'd be fine....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when she started....I made faces...I squirmed in the lovely vibrating seat...the heated vibrating seat...no wonder I didn't want to go home &lt;img src="http://www.emotipad.com/newemoticons/Tempted.gif" /&gt; The 16ish year old chatter box that came in shortly after me...that talked continuously from the time she walked in the door...was cracking up....Somehow I don't think she realized how very close I came to kicking the very small womans head right off her tiny little shoulders...but being my first time and all I felt it wouldn't be proper.&lt;img src="http://www.emotipad.com/newemoticons/Penguin.gif" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here you go..I present you with....the results of my first ever official pedicure &lt;img src="http://home.ntelos.net/~juleaky/toes2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7093116-109159047094278063?l=unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/feeds/109159047094278063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093116&amp;postID=109159047094278063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/109159047094278063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/109159047094278063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/2004/08/show-us-your-toes.html' title='Show us your toes!'/><author><name>Jules</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07383510406408690643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07151960911940565830'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093116.post-109150118331334127</id><published>2004-08-02T22:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-03T23:13:22.203-04:00</updated><title type='text'>T minus 4 days and *coughing*</title><content type='html'>The birthday party, you know, for the smallish boy...it's in 4 days ..Saturday. &lt;img src="http://www.emotipad.com/newemoticons/Happy-Birthday1.gif" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya'll are invited..just BYOF and maybe BYOC too...chair..cup..what ever..you can choose. I'm gonna &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;strongly&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; suggest Nimrod get some hay bales for seats... This tiny little birthday party for the smallish boy has turned into som huge ass production which I am not EVEN in the mood for...50 people!! Holy horse shit...there was supposed to be &lt;em&gt;maybe&lt;/em&gt; 10 kids..and today...I started with a sore throat....and now there's a fever where my entire body, eyelids included feel like theybe been sunburned from the inside out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a check up on my blood pressure (which is good now..from almost stroke level a few weeks ago) and to have a "female exam" Oh joy! I've been so longing for one of those...not. So feeling like I do...I faked a little spotting...which is not something unusual &lt;img src="http://www.emotipad.com/newemoticons/Angel.gif" /&gt; mostly because I didn't want to shave my legs...It's a good reason I tell ya&lt;img src="http://home.ntelos.net/~juleaky/smilies/513.gif" /&gt; and settled in to whine about how crappy I feel and how I must must must feel better ASAP because I have this very imortant birthday..."say awwwwwwww" Diagnoses? Sinus infection and ear infection (which was apparently diagnosed when she stuck that ear looker in my ear and I screamed &lt;img src="http://www.emotipad.com/newemoticons/Noooooooo.gif" /&gt; )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have antibiotcs..and I'm taking tylenol/advil every 4 hours yet my temperature is still 102&lt;img src="http://www.emotipad.com/newemoticons/Bellow.gif" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok enough of that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm thinking of all the things I haven't done yet..like..order the cake, because Martha I am not...uhhmm...call the invitees! Important one there I think...tho maybe not because Nimrod is now convinced there will be no cake to feed said invitees...and unless they BYOF they're gonna have to eat it like a dog. Wait..it's 5/6 year olds..they may get a kick out of that..and the rest of us...well I have 250 salad forks...so that should work out ok...OR we can share the 4 dinner forks.&lt;img src="http://www.emotipad.com/newemoticons/Lollipop.gif" /&gt; They won't mind eating after me..right?&lt;img src="http://www.emotipad.com/newemoticons/Chew.gif" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7093116-109150118331334127?l=unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/feeds/109150118331334127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093116&amp;postID=109150118331334127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/109150118331334127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/109150118331334127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/2004/08/t-minus-4-days-and-coughing.html' title='T minus 4 days and *coughing*'/><author><name>Jules</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07383510406408690643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07151960911940565830'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093116.post-109096474697681140</id><published>2004-07-27T17:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T17:45:46.976-04:00</updated><title type='text'>B.Y.O....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fork&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to get organized (shaddup) for the first ever REAL (meaning with school mates invited) birthday party for the smallish boy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..as I try to assemble all things I may need..get rid of the things that clutter the house and general freaking out before having strangers in my house (it's an issue..leave me alone) I discover....all but 3 of the normal dinner forks...ARE GONE!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Who knows where they maybe might could possibly be...but I know where they aren't... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will be the invitations.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The honor of your presence has been requested at our residence at Way-far Up-a-hollow Road&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;to CELEBRATE the 6th annual birthday party of the smallish boy.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*6*!! can you believe it?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There will be games, and prizes and fun to be had by all...&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;but no forks&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please bring your swimming attire...and towels. &lt;br /&gt;I can provide the sun screen...&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;but no forks&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;We will have hot dogs and various picnic foods available for you to munch and snack around on...there will be cake (Spiderman) and ice cream (chocolate and vanilla) and soda and an assortment of other drinks...but, you know.... &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;no forks&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7093116-109096474697681140?l=unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/feeds/109096474697681140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093116&amp;postID=109096474697681140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/109096474697681140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/109096474697681140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/2004/07/byo.html' title='B.Y.O....'/><author><name>Jules</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07383510406408690643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07151960911940565830'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093116.post-109096405718452325</id><published>2004-07-27T17:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T17:37:21.096-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprises</title><content type='html'>I love surprises...NO really, I do. I may torment the keeper of the surprise to tell me..give me hints....threaten to open something I have in my possession that's to be held until ohh say, my birthday...but in general....surprises...ya gotta luv'em...Except the ones I keep finding in mybed....those surprises? Not so much... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example...crumbs...that's not such a lovely surprise after having a bath and rushing to climb into my warm comy bed...only to find my son has been in my bed watching TV while nimrod uses the treadmill (making my bedroom stink like you would NOT believe) Dorrito, Pringles, cheetos...those aren't so awfully bad..cheetos are the&amp;nbsp;worse because they make things orange (this can't really be good for you ya know) but the very worst...OREOS...little black cookie crumbs all over my white flowered sheets. Disgusting... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.Toy cars...books, flashcards...empty juice thingies, bubble gum (in the wrapper) toilet paper, combs, brushes, hair accessories, game boy games, back packs and my all time fav...his wet swimming trunks are among other things that I find between the sheets of my...MY bed &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mini flashlight...found this hidden under my pillows...when I inquired with the smallish boy, he said "It was incase you got scared"...now initially that sounds really sweet...but I know him..he's being a shit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dirty clothes...not mine, I put mine where they belong &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(under the bed )&lt;/span&gt; but his...between my blankets...yes getting my toes tangled in his mess of clothes and stinky socks...is exactly what I was looking for... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dumbells....No, now you know I refer to him as nimrod (someone asked me the other day why and all I could think of was...it's much more acceptable than fuckhead ) My 5 and 10 lb dumbells I've been using to get all BUFF I normally keep in a small spot between the wall and the book case..but as nimrod continues to take over my space...he gets them out and lets the smallish boy play with them...Do you know what happens when he plays with them...he drops them on my feet....which is when I said the 4th curse word to ever leave my mouth in front of him....Yep..I've done well in his 6 years to have only said 4 outloud swear words...this one...SHIT! with tears....He was sorry...and put himself in time out! I've taught him well &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, anyway....lastnight...I go take a yummy hot bath...play some Enya while I'm soaking (and peeling...you know, because I am a freak)....all realaxed and covered in 'Sanctuary' lotion and the ever sexy sweats and tshirt I hop (literally...cuz the princess and the pea bed sits so far up off the floor) into bed only to land my tender bum on all 4 freakin' dumbells....go to slide off the bed and drag 2 of them off with me....yup...landed on my foot...and yup...there was outloud cussing going on....threw the rest of them down there with them...so that when I got up to go to the bathroom, I could stub my toe on them...that was a bonus surprise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This evening I'm home...I've made it clear that the snack was to be had in the living room..where I can find the crumbs...and stripped clothes can be taken to the laundry....and since I made the bed when I got up...I'm hoping that this will infact keep my bedtime surprise free &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....it smells like stinky sweaty nasty nimrod in there now...but until I'm rid of him, I guess that's more like a given, than a surprise.....now where's that lysol &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7093116-109096405718452325?l=unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/feeds/109096405718452325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093116&amp;postID=109096405718452325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/109096405718452325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/109096405718452325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/2004/07/surprises.html' title='Surprises'/><author><name>Jules</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07383510406408690643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07151960911940565830'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093116.post-109029207181315275</id><published>2004-07-19T22:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-19T22:54:31.813-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A reply URGENTLY requested!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;On any given day, I can reduce my debt and butt, increase the size of my boobs and penis &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(if only I had one)&lt;/span&gt; become a millionaire over night, making all my dreams come true.... win $10,000 and make a fortune on ebay, &amp;nbsp;get my degree online while watching Candy and her barnyard fun ...join the literary guild and watch Sasha's live web cam, win a new car, and expand my brain...&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;did I mention expand my 'love tool'&lt;/span&gt;...and increase my stamina while reducing my cholesterol, get a life insurance policy while healing my dry cracked feet and then eat pizza and lose weight and go chat with BROCK and invision a business in a box which I'm guessing may or may not include the youth serum to take years off my face.... Some day maybe I'll take a chance… &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;Just this morning, I received an e-mail that promised I could &lt;strong&gt;“KEEP HIM IN BED TODAY – GUARANTEED!” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;It sounded like just what I was looking for, so I clicked on the link. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;Talk about false advertising…There wasn’t one single solitary thing on that web site that told me how to get my smallish boy to sleep in his bed all night. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;Moving on to the next e-mail, they promised they could help me grow my favorite appendage by &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;three full inches&lt;/span&gt;, but who needs a 4-inch long big toe?&amp;nbsp; I mean, a little extra toe length might improve my already admirably freakish ability to pick up smallish boys toys/clothes as I walk through the house, but then I’d have to move somewhere warm since it would restrict me to year-round sandal wearing. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;The next e-mail was even more intriguing.&amp;nbsp; If I followed their link, they said I could find out how to get my pocket taxidermy kit for only $39.99. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;Are you in need of a gift for the gal who has everything?&amp;nbsp; I can pretty much guarantee she won’t already have one of those…It’s just the thing for the road traveler who has spoken wistfully a time too many about the barely dinged possum she once left behind on Route 21. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;If the cost of that pocket taxidermy kit would take too big a bite from your gift buying budget, you might want to check into the e-mail offer I received from the New Canoe University!&amp;nbsp; They can get you the “easiest $20K you’ll ever make.”&amp;nbsp; All you have to do is “donate your body to science, and profit while you’re still alive.” &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;One program on their site is titled “Bleeding for Bucks.”&amp;nbsp; I kid you not…Now there’s a disturbing thought.&amp;nbsp; A few weeks after signing on the dotted line and collecting your change, you find some white-coated guy standing in your door with a scalpel in one hand and a Coleman cooler in the other:&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;blockquote&gt;“I just need a little slice of your liver,” he may start out….”But don’t you worry yer purty little head.&amp;nbsp; Them thar are self-regenerating organs. Say…would you like a shiny new quarter?”&amp;nbsp; &lt;/blockquote&gt;Whadoyaknow…the gift that keeps on giving. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;I guess a person would have to be more than a tad desperate to sign up with that outfit, but I bet there are plenty takers.&amp;nbsp; Some of these e-mailers are seriously desperate folks. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;Take this girl named Sabrina..she just moved to town and wants to date me.&amp;nbsp; No, really..she said so in all caps in the subject line of her email. And guess what!&amp;nbsp; She has a webcam…. And its NEW!&amp;nbsp; I suppose I should be flattered by Sabrina’s friendliness and all, but I need to find a way to break it to her to gently that while, yes I need to get out of this marriage….I’m pretty sure&amp;nbsp;one of us would end up disappointed. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;My next email promised a great way to drop a few pounds. &amp;nbsp;They said I could lose up to 19 percent of my total body weight and 20 to 35 percent of my abdominal fat.&amp;nbsp; Hot damn!&amp;nbsp; Just what I’d been looking for….It sounded too good to be true…so I followed the link… &lt;br /&gt;Strangest damn thing, it took me right back to the site that was offering to purchase my parts. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;I was beginning to give up hope…Thank heaven’s I ran across that e-mail from Taofeek Savimbi of Nigeria.&amp;nbsp; Poor guy…his rich father was killed and now he’s URGENTLY IN NEED OF ASSISTANCE to conduct a ‘transaction of great magnitude” that requires nothing more than my bank account information…. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;What a sweetie Taofeek is..he’s promising to reward me generously for my kind assistance, but just knowing I’ve helped him should be reward enough… &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;But hey, if he wants to throw in a pocket taxidermy kit and lengthen my big toe ..this may just be my lucky day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7093116-109029207181315275?l=unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/feeds/109029207181315275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093116&amp;postID=109029207181315275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/109029207181315275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/109029207181315275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/2004/07/reply-urgently-requested.html' title='A reply URGENTLY requested!'/><author><name>Jules</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07383510406408690643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07151960911940565830'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093116.post-108933935936947973</id><published>2004-07-08T22:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-08T22:15:59.370-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mindless ramblings of a pack rat</title><content type='html'>Among my many revered titles....is Pack Rat Princess Extraordinaire.  I don't deny it..nor do I even bother denying my equally cherished title ...which combined, would in fact be the best description of all.... &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Procrastinating Pack Rat Princess Extraordinaire.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;This title must go nicely along with the ADHD self-diagnosis I have proudly laid claim to.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;So.....Today after I'd taken the smallish boy to to day camp, which by the way I've decided doesn't last long enough...  Ms PPRPE can't do all I've put off doing for all my life in just 3 short hours a day...especially when I didn't bother showering and doing my hair prior to leaving the house at 8am this morning....and I must make time to do that before going to retrieve said smallish boy in around 30 mintues....&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Ohh right... so, after taking him ALLLLL the way to the &lt;em&gt;county farm&lt;/em&gt;, which is 9 miles past BFE, I stopped at the grocery store and purchased all the things I needed to make a lovely dinner (which I haven't had time to start..) and then to the glorious Dollar Store for a few odds and ends...as I've decided I MUST MUST MUST become more frugal (again)...stop at Burger King for a coffee (*see note below) and home I go...unload the loot...come in, change into shorts....finish my coffee while browsing all the news that is, of course, news  online (aaahh...there's my downfall) go out and shock the pool since someone put the cover on it and didn't bother running the pump, turning my lovely crystal clear pool into ... A FROG POND!  Back up to the house and start in dusting..ending at my desk... as Procrastinating Pack Rat Princess Extraordinaire I'd gathered quite the collection of cups and empty Marlboro Ultra Light 100's packages in the various baskets that adorn my lovely drawerless desk...once all foreign empty items were disposed of properly and the layer of dust removed....Hey... my desk really IS black.....ahhhhhhhh...one chore down..so what must I do?  Have a coffee and a smoke and see if anyone is around online....nope...no one...go get the vacuum..... Yay...the vacuum, with my assistance has indeed done it's job and sucked up the large pile of fish food which thankfully didn't make it into the tank...vacuuming is easier than cleaning a fish tank...I guess...as I've never cleaned this one...yet ;)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Move to the kitchen..it's actually clean...I really hate to chop veggies...so to avoid that chore....I head for the frige....Tomorrow is trash day...what better way to show the garbage man how much I appreciate him than to give him a nice full sack of unidentifiable items from Krogers.  It's become just the way it is in my house..go out and work....earn a little money..go to the grocery store and spend oodles of money on various perishables...stick them in the frige and then go back ohhhh say 6 months later and see if you can still identify them....I make my way down the shelves laughing to myself about how items moved from the center shelves to the door suddenly become ...invisable~!  I wonder how long before nimrod asks where the "cow butter is".  (yes I live on a farm, and yes I guess that's how he would distinguish it from the "owl butter") Betcha it's today....oh yeah, ...down I go through the shelves of the frige to the very bottom drawer.....a drawer I occasionally peek into....from time to time opening it....just to look at the contents and try to remember exactly how long ago it was I bought the contents....  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The math goes like this.....&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;My son will be 6 years old in August.....we moved into this house when he was almost 1.....the contents of the drawer came with me from the previous dwelling..... I've been in possession of said contents for about 3 years prior to that.  Yes...that would be approximately 9 years.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;So, today...I, the Procrastinating Pack Rat Princess Extrordinaire  quite unceremoniously took that step and threw away the entire contents of that drawer. Well over $10,000 worth of long ago expired fertility drugs.... Like 6 years ago expired. &lt;br /&gt;from my days of injections and blood draws and daily transvaginal ultrasounds... Ohhh weren't those the days!   Oh wait...no those were the YEARS.....  9 years of it to be exact.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so now I MUST go shower so that I can pick up the smallish child and see if perhaps I can get dinner started and actually complete the task all in the same day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7093116-108933935936947973?l=unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/feeds/108933935936947973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093116&amp;postID=108933935936947973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/108933935936947973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/108933935936947973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/2004/07/mindless-ramblings-of-pack-rat.html' title='Mindless ramblings of a pack rat'/><author><name>Jules</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07383510406408690643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07151960911940565830'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093116.post-108933220068254434</id><published>2004-07-08T19:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-07-08T22:03:29.743-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupidus Maximus</title><content type='html'>Today...I had one of those huge&lt;strong&gt; D'OH moments&lt;/strong&gt;.  You know the kind...where you're going along your merry way and discover something you should have figured out AGES ago, but for what ever unknown reason TODAY while driving down the road it just hits you...like a splash of hot coffee on your tshirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes well.. I love coffee...it is the most seductively delicious beverage to have ever been created in all the world.  Hot, iced, coffee with ice cream, flavored coffee, dark roast, Columbian...coffeecoffeecoffee.  But I am a coffee snob...That's it...my secret (one of many) is out.  I will not accept coffee that is more than an hour old..and less than that if it's not a full pot...I prefer half and half but will take certain brands of powdered creamer...but not milk....don't ask, because I don't know....2 packets of sweet and low or 3 packets of Splenda.  But almost never ever ever from a fast food restaurants or a convenience mart...With that being said...there is one particular BP station close to work that has excellent coffee and the Dunkin' Donuts passes all tests as well....and only ONE Burger King in the world that has had wonderful coffee every time I've ever been there to let the smallish boy play on their playground...but that's it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way to taking the smallish boy to his day camp, I stopped at the approved BK to get a large coffee...4 creamers and 2 packets of S&amp;L...and I'm on my way...remember I never actually get fast food to go cups of coffee...so I'm all excited about my coffee and rip open the little hole on the lid ready to experience my own little bit of liquid sunshine for the day and am quite disappointed...but it's not 'throw it away' awful...it is still, after all...caffine to feed my addiction.  The  D'OH moment came as I'm trying to figure out how to keep this lid from smacking my nose every time I tried to take a drink.  As I'm fiddling around with the lid in the dash cup holder it occurs to me that there's an indentation on the flap...and that flap seems to match quite nicely the hump in the middle of the cup...wonder if I just...snap it back...and VIOLA!  Whadoyaknow....that's quite the handy deal. Then I remembered the other rare times when I'd thought I had to rip that little doohickey off the lid and then if I had to put the cup down then it'd splash out all over the dash/windshield/seat/ME....and if I'd just have figured that out all those many years ago...well...that was my D'OH moment for today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7093116-108933220068254434?l=unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/feeds/108933220068254434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093116&amp;postID=108933220068254434' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/108933220068254434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/108933220068254434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/2004/07/stupidus-maximus.html' title='Stupidus Maximus'/><author><name>Jules</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07383510406408690643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07151960911940565830'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093116.post-108606410201240306</id><published>2004-06-01T00:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T00:28:22.013-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Invitation</title><content type='html'>Discovering myself smack dab in the middle of "deep and meaningful", I happened on this tonight and thought it was lovely....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;The Invitation &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare&lt;br /&gt;to dream of meeting your heart's longing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love,&lt;br /&gt;for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched&lt;br /&gt;the center of your sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals, or have become&lt;br /&gt;shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine and&lt;br /&gt;your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with JOY, mine&lt;br /&gt;or your own: if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers&lt;br /&gt;and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, or to remember the limitations of&lt;br /&gt;being human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint&lt;br /&gt;another to be true to yourself: if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your&lt;br /&gt;own soul. I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you&lt;br /&gt;can see beauty even when it is not pretty everyday, and if you can source your life from its&lt;br /&gt;presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours or mine, and still stand on the edge&lt;br /&gt;of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if&lt;br /&gt;you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what&lt;br /&gt;needs to be done for the children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't interest me who you are, or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand&lt;br /&gt;in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what&lt;br /&gt;sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with&lt;br /&gt;yourself, and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Oriah Mountain Dreamer&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7093116-108606410201240306?l=unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/feeds/108606410201240306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093116&amp;postID=108606410201240306' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/108606410201240306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/108606410201240306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/2004/06/invitation.html' title='The Invitation'/><author><name>Jules</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07383510406408690643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07151960911940565830'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093116.post-108586670169589945</id><published>2004-05-29T16:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-29T17:38:21.696-04:00</updated><title type='text'>An only child</title><content type='html'>Mindless ramblings....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was an only child until I was about 2 1/2 when my parents turned my life upside down by bringing home a very small screeching high needs baby boy on Christmas day.  I'm sure a baby doll may have been on my list of things I wanted that year...but I never expected this baby doll to actually throw me, the precious princess of the family, out of my spotlight.  We fought from the day he came home...literally. Constantly fighting for our respective right to that special light that shines down making our halos glow and our wings become visible, leaving the one whose attention we're fighting for blind to the wrong doings of days, weeks, seconds past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this afternoon I've inherited a beautiful blonde little girl.  She's 2 1/2 and I'm totally eating her up.  She's not mine to keep forever, but for now..she's mine.  I've brushed her long blonde hair and washed her dirty face (I have such issues with dirty children..I'm sure it's not a natural obsession) we've painted toenails...mine and hers...and there have been cuddles and giggles and smiles galore!&lt;br /&gt;And fighting!  Seems I've also become a referee....She and the smallish boy have fought like ...well...like siblings.  I understand this being 'just the way it is' for siblings...but not for these two.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She took my {fill in the blank}"  &lt;br /&gt;"She's making too much noise I can't hear the TV"&lt;br /&gt;"He slapped me" &lt;br /&gt;"He won't let me play with {fill in the blank}"....&lt;br /&gt;"You two share"....&lt;br /&gt;"Lets go to the other room to play with that one"...&lt;br /&gt;uhhmm "You go to your room for 10 minutes for hitting, that's not allowed"....&lt;br /&gt;"Didn't I tell you two to share?"  Yes I'm sure I did...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then for 15 minutes they played wonderfully together dressed as a lion and Clifford the Big Red Dog (Halloween costumes from years past) Until he started trying to drag her (as Clifford) around by the collar...Well...So much for that brief glimpse of what life would be like with the baby sister he so often talks about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always wanted at least 3 children.  Two girls and a boy...and I wanted the boy first..OK, so I got 1 out of three...That's only one example of many scenarios in my life where it's become obvious someone else is in charge.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7093116-108586670169589945?l=unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/feeds/108586670169589945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093116&amp;postID=108586670169589945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/108586670169589945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/108586670169589945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/2004/05/only-child.html' title='An only child'/><author><name>Jules</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07383510406408690643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07151960911940565830'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093116.post-108580903554338599</id><published>2004-05-29T00:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-05-29T01:40:59.180-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How did I get here?</title><content type='html'>Quite the thought provoking question, don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depending on where we are in our lives..Our mood....Or where our thoughts are at any given time our answer to this question will most always be different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few other equally perplexing questions can be:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is this where I'm supposed to be?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Am I happy here?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is there someplace else I'd rather be?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since it's after 1am...and this is, afterall, my first entry, I won't travel the path of the deep and meaningful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....So for tonight:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How did I get here?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll blame that one on &lt;a href="http://wouldacouldashoulda.blogspot.com"&gt;Mir &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is this where I'm supposed to be?&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Well, so far, no one has told me otherwise...and Mir told me to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Am I happy here?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I figured out how to tweak my blog (thank you Mir) and get it sort of the way I want it...for now....so we'll say Yeah..so far so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is there someplace else I'd rather be? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Considering it's almost 1:30am, and my smallish boy sees no reason why anyone should sleep in later than 7am just because it's Saturday...that should be my bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to start somewhere :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7093116-108580903554338599?l=unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/feeds/108580903554338599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7093116&amp;postID=108580903554338599' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/108580903554338599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7093116/posts/default/108580903554338599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unusuallyunusual.blogspot.com/2004/05/how-did-i-get-here.html' title='How did I get here?'/><author><name>Jules</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07383510406408690643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='07151960911940565830'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry></feed>