<?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-442427842162084158</id><updated>2011-12-16T15:00:21.736-05:00</updated><category term='Confessions'/><category term='Revelations'/><title type='text'>Shine A Light, Girl</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-442427842162084158.post-3006937574840363666</id><published>2011-07-23T23:08:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T23:30:54.828-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Revelations'/><title type='text'>Seriously??</title><content type='html'>Alright peeps. It's obvious I am not the most committed blogger. (Insert eye roll.) But since I hear tell that not one, but TWO of you have recently commented on my absence from blogland, I decided I must surprise you and do a post. Or make a post. Or post a post. Whatever you call it. See?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this post is about my latest revelation. I HAVE TWO READERS!!! Granted, they've gotten off easy this past year (or two, but who's counting?) since they haven't actually had to read ANYTHING new. But still! TWO READERS!! Yahooooooo!!!!! You like me! You really like me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sKeQufumI5U/TiuQD8sgXDI/AAAAAAAAAH0/Z4F18gqkbho/s1600/Sally%2BField.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 288px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 234px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632754156463742002" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sKeQufumI5U/TiuQD8sgXDI/AAAAAAAAAH0/Z4F18gqkbho/s320/Sally%2BField.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thank you, thankyouverymuch. :) :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/442427842162084158-3006937574840363666?l=shinealightgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3006937574840363666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2011/07/seriously.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/3006937574840363666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/3006937574840363666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2011/07/seriously.html' title='Seriously??'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sKeQufumI5U/TiuQD8sgXDI/AAAAAAAAAH0/Z4F18gqkbho/s72-c/Sally%2BField.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-442427842162084158.post-8761622398095795624</id><published>2010-02-05T00:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T00:44:42.099-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Just Can't Believe It</title><content type='html'>Hey everyone (emphasis on 'one')~~I'M BAAAAACK!!! Haha! And I just can't believe it! CANNOT believe it! A huge part of my problem with keeping up with this blog has been that bain of my existence/slower than me running a mile/piece o' poo/decrepit old laptop computer I've been forced to ignore for at least a year now. To explain how slow it was, it has just taken me all of 5 minutes on my new laptop to redecorate my blog background, whereas on the aforementioned piece o' poo it would take me well over an hour. Just to redecorate the stupid thing. With just a copy and paste procedure. Sheesh. Can you believe that?? I just cannot. (Big props to Michele who recently~or not so recently, &lt;em&gt;I would not know&lt;/em&gt;~redecorated HER blog background using a cutie patootie new free blog background website which I then copied quick as I could! Thanks for blazing the trail girlfriend.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, I just wanted to let you (singular 'you'~and 'you' know who 'you' are) know that due to the fact that I have obtained a superfast/quick as lightning/brand-spankin' new laptop computer 'you' might be seeing a little bit more action on this hot bliggity blog in the coming days. Or at the least the coming months. And I just can't believe it. I am so happy. *Sniff*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/442427842162084158-8761622398095795624?l=shinealightgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8761622398095795624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-just-cant-believe-it.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/8761622398095795624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/8761622398095795624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-just-cant-believe-it.html' title='I Just Can&apos;t Believe It'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-442427842162084158.post-4021400318421906512</id><published>2009-06-08T23:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T23:19:00.284-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Night Owl~Hoot! Hoot!</title><content type='html'>I get a little silly late at night. Things that are usually only "&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;mildly amusing"&lt;/span&gt; are *!HILARIOUS!* when it's the middle of the night and I've still got some energy about me. Guess I've always been a night owl. Come to think of it, when I was a teenager my mother would often find me in my room at 2 a.m. rearranging the furniture. She'd look at me bleary-eyed and squinting, and we'd have the following conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mama (sleepy and a lot irritated): &lt;em&gt;"What in the world are you doing?"&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;Me (impervious): &lt;em&gt;"Rearranging my room."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama (thinking "duh!"): &lt;em&gt;"Can it not wait til tomorrow?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me (with a similarly annoyed tone): &lt;em&gt;"But, I'm up NOW.  Sheesh!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;(I must admit the "Sheesh!" was under my breath and only uttered after my mother was out of earshot.  And if you didn't already know, I'm the type who likes to act on something ASAP once I've made up my mind to do it. Anyone out there relate?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, it's a wonder I didn't hurt myself moving around a queen bed, a dresser, a chest of drawers and a t.v. all by myself. And it's a wonder my mama didn't kill me for waking her up to the sound of bumping into walls with said furniture in the wee hours of the night on many an occasion. I'm gonna have to remember this when one of my bunch starts pulling these same shenanigans in a few years. I just &lt;strong&gt;pray&lt;/strong&gt; it's something so tame!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/442427842162084158-4021400318421906512?l=shinealightgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4021400318421906512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/night-owlhoot-hoot.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/4021400318421906512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/4021400318421906512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/night-owlhoot-hoot.html' title='Night Owl~Hoot! Hoot!'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-442427842162084158.post-3253969367120129033</id><published>2009-05-24T20:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T21:32:24.301-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Recipe for Evil</title><content type='html'>You know how it is when you get a craving for a particular food item and well, just nothing else will do?  Usually for me that craving is pizza.  I do love me some pizza y'all.  We usually get a thin crust with pepperoni and black olives.  It's the favorite in our house and all five of us just adore it.  Now let me really gross you out.  My uuuultimate favorite? That apparently nobody will make because they just don't *have* both of these toppings in the same restaurant at the same time, and apparently no one else on earth wants this particular combo?????  Black olives AND green olives.  Wow...is anybody still reading?  Yes, black AND green olive pizza is my very favorite, very best, out of this world kind of pizza.  Preferably by Pizza Hut.  Back in the day when the pizza execs were smarter, they actually offered this kind of pizza.  Don't know when they were so led astray.  But back to the cravings....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My twins recently celebrated their third birthday, so to go along with the Scooby Doo theme that they actually agreed to share (bless their little hearts!--at least one more year before I have to start throwing the "dual" birthday parties with different themes and decorations and cakes and friends and and and...), I decided I'd make what's called "Puppy Chow" as a cute little tie in to the Scooby Doo/dog theme.  You may have heard it called "Muddy Buddies" or "White Trash" or some other really complimentary name, but for the party we called it "Puppy Chow."  Well, I bought plenty of ingredients to make extra, and this weekend I made the extra batch.  And y'all that stuff is evil.  Pure evil.  I am not usually the peanut butter and chocolate lover that I know many of you are, so be forewarned:  this stuff is so good it'll make you want to slap your Granny.  Your cute little Granny.  I promise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister gave me this recipe, and just so I'm not alone in my suffering, I thought I'd share it with you in case you haven't yet had the pleasure.  I would attach a picture of the finished product but it's gone y'all.  G-O-N-E gone! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Recipe for Evil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*9 cups rice chex cereal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*1 pkg. (6 oz.) semisweet chocolate chips&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*1/2 cup peanut butter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*1/4 cup butter or margarine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*1 tsp. vanilla&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*1 1/2 cups powdered sugar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Measure cereal into large bowl; set aside.  Microwave chocolate chips, peanut butter and butter in medium microwavable bowl on high for 1 minute; stir.  Micro 30 seconds longer or until mixture can be stirred smooth.  Stir in vanilla.  Pour over cereal in bowl, stirring until evenly coated.  Scoop into large plastic food-storage bag; add powdered sugar.  Seal bag; shake until well coated.  Spread on waxed paper to cool.  Store in airtight container in refrigerator.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's one last step they forgot and that's pray for forgiveness.   Anyway, have fun with making this, and leave me a comment if you feel my pain.  Or if you just want to tell me about any evil cravings you're having at the moment.  I need some company.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/442427842162084158-3253969367120129033?l=shinealightgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3253969367120129033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/recipe-for-evil.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/3253969367120129033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/3253969367120129033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/recipe-for-evil.html' title='Recipe for Evil'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-442427842162084158.post-7773817455550056408</id><published>2009-05-19T11:33:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T00:38:53.674-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Got Da Bluuues</title><content type='html'>Hey everybody! :) No, I'm not talking about macaroni and cheese (By the way, YUCK can't stand that stuff! And I know some of you will think I'm just un-American or un-Southern or whatever). But I'm really referring to "the blues" which is just about my very favorite kind of music. Being a Mississippi girl I get my love of "the blues" honest and no music carries me away to childhood and hot Mississippi summers like some Buddy Guy, Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters, B.B. King and even those lesser known but amazing artists like Howlin' Wolf, Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown, and Big Mama Thornton. And if you think those names are funny, check out some of my favorite funny song titles. Here's my TOP 12 (*wink wink my Jester girlies) and these are for real, y'all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Why Don't You Haul Off and Love Me&lt;br /&gt;11. If The Washing Don't Get You, The Rinsing Will&lt;br /&gt;10. I Feel That Old Age Coming On&lt;br /&gt;9. It's Yo World (And I'm Just Livin' In It)&lt;br /&gt;8. Cornbread&lt;br /&gt;7. Pressure Cooker ('Bout To Blow)&lt;br /&gt;6. Funky Butt&lt;br /&gt;5. Yo Dress Is Too Short&lt;br /&gt;4. Let Me Play With Your Poodle&lt;br /&gt;3. Meet Me With Your Black Drawers On&lt;br /&gt;2. Wang Dang Doodle&lt;br /&gt;1. Your Husband Is Cheatin' On Us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think people would guess just how much humor there is in blues music, which is maybe another reason I like it so much. And great blues music is still being made today, although I'm not sure the song titles are as *ahem* interesting as they used to be. :) But if you're not familiar with the blues and want to get a listen, here's a CD that's filled with great classics and new favorites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337550275654218946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/ShLJsjcodMI/AAAAAAAAAFg/GsauJ3Voz5E/s320/Pure+Blues.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I'm no expert on the genre, but I really like this disc. Check it out on Amazon.com &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Pure-Blues-Various-Artists/dp/B00005B6AB/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=music&amp;amp;qid=1242745034&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;Pure Blues &lt;/a&gt;and you can listen to samples of the songs.  And if you're a fan like I am, let me know some of your favorite artists or albums. With summer coming I can't get enough of my downhome Southern blues y'all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/442427842162084158-7773817455550056408?l=shinealightgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7773817455550056408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-got-da-bluuues.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/7773817455550056408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/7773817455550056408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-got-da-bluuues.html' title='I Got Da Bluuues'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/ShLJsjcodMI/AAAAAAAAAFg/GsauJ3Voz5E/s72-c/Pure+Blues.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-442427842162084158.post-810879059763974151</id><published>2009-04-20T20:46:00.014-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T22:14:11.022-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What Have I Done?!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; Do you remember a few weeks ago when I told you about my winning the lottery and having to go incognito for awhile to avoid the publicity? I didn't?! Are you sure??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326960998633764418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 119px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 108px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Se0qzgfs9kI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Rz9G-I3HNyY/s320/money.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Okay then, think really hard...don't you remember I mentioned something about being away for a bit on a mission trip to the Congo...putting on a Vacation Bible School in the rainforest for the monkeys and tropical birds? No wait, that's not it either huh?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Se0p5EAy_GI/AAAAAAAAAEo/jV36QeipKhw/s1600-h/Congo+monkey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326959994555530338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 107px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Se0p5EAy_GI/AAAAAAAAAEo/jV36QeipKhw/s320/Congo+monkey.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Se0qHiMT3_I/AAAAAAAAAE4/2YBv9Fbg-Zk/s1600-h/Congo+bird.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326960243175055346" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Se0qHiMT3_I/AAAAAAAAAE4/2YBv9Fbg-Zk/s200/Congo+bird.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Well, how 'bout I was kidnapped by a filthy rich royal family from a beautiful but tiny island in the Whatever Sea (I'm really bad with geography!) and was forced to tell them jokes and feed them grapes all day long? Is that fathomable in the least?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326960413491345170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 100px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 128px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Se0qRcq4NxI/AAAAAAAAAFA/vll3y4rAJ2A/s320/Jester2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Alright, alright. Enough with the excuses. Truth is, sometimes I just need a break. From it all. But especially the computer. Like most, I tend to get caught up in the internet and it's vast unending possibilities and searches and social networking sites. This happens for weeks or months on end. And then, just like after a sugar rush, I come crashing down. And hard. And the computer is the last thing I want to see or touch or hear or taste or smell. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Just kidding...I've only licked my computer once that I recall. Darn pics of Outback Aussie Cheese Fries! Why must you tempt me so?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326960522278652850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 98px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Se0qXx7yy7I/AAAAAAAAAFI/IbIf8OaQK3Q/s320/Cheese+Fries.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ANYWAY, I apologize that I did not put a disclaimer in the sidebar. "At times this blog will be left by it's owner to grow dusty and stale and stagnant. Readers Beware: Follow at Your Own Risk." I should have at least warned you that "real life" sometimes wins out and this blog and it's friends will be left in the dust...or maybe somewhere in the Congo. But if you're still checking in every so often and haven't yet given up on me, please let me know. I'm anxiously awaiting the chance to feed you some grapes and tell you a good, clean, funny joke. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/442427842162084158-810879059763974151?l=shinealightgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/810879059763974151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-have-i-done.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/810879059763974151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/810879059763974151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-have-i-done.html' title='What Have I Done?!?'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Se0qzgfs9kI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Rz9G-I3HNyY/s72-c/money.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-442427842162084158.post-6181433690719380074</id><published>2009-03-28T00:39:00.023-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T01:49:11.312-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog Therapy?</title><content type='html'>Have I told you how obsessive I can be? I like to have everything on the shelf with the label facing out...it just looks neater that way and boy, it helps ya find stuff a lot faster. And yes, when purchasing a magazine I have to grab the one near the middle-back of the stack...you know, the one no one's already perused and bent up the pages. Well, today as I was working on a little project for my daughter's upcoming Easter celebration at school, I was going about it business as usual and it occurred to me that some of you may not realize how much thought and planning goes into filling 12 little plastic Easter eggs with candy. I wrote down some instructions, so here's what you do:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sc2qtZNKBTI/AAAAAAAAADo/zu-6yXZJ50E/s1600-h/EasterEgg1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318094431831328050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sc2qtZNKBTI/AAAAAAAAADo/zu-6yXZJ50E/s200/EasterEgg1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Step One:&lt;em&gt; Carefully cut the end of each bag open in as straight a line as possible. Then spread the candy out before you so you can see the variety of colors and make sure there are no broken pieces or torn wrappers. Discard unacceptable pieces. Throw them straight in the trash can so you do not dare use one accidentally.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sc2q6K9rGSI/AAAAAAAAAD4/hOYelKMoXgo/s1600-h/EasterEgg2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318094651346589986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sc2q6K9rGSI/AAAAAAAAAD4/hOYelKMoXgo/s200/EasterEgg2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Step Two: &lt;em&gt;Open one plastic Easter egg noting what color it is. Carefully choose two to three pieces of candy of differing colors to place in the egg. The candy colors must not be the same as the egg or any other piece of candy placed in said egg. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Sorry for the fuzzy picture...stupid camera phone.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sc20LwwCr5I/AAAAAAAAAEY/R1mWfgE-hAs/s1600-h/EasterEgg3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318104849152389010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sc20LwwCr5I/AAAAAAAAAEY/R1mWfgE-hAs/s200/EasterEgg3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Step Three: &lt;em&gt;It is often helpful to lay out each egg/candy combination in order to make sure you do not duplicate that particular combination with another egg. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sometimes I skip Step Three when I'm feeling rebellious. Shhh...don't tell. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sc2rBd7oaLI/AAAAAAAAAEI/gAzjS6RDOWo/s1600-h/EasterEgg4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318094776697383090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sc2rBd7oaLI/AAAAAAAAAEI/gAzjS6RDOWo/s200/EasterEgg4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step Four: &lt;em&gt;Apply stickers to the completed eggs so they do not come open in the bag on the way to the fun school Easter celebration. It is imperative that the stickers are of a different color than the egg, and of course, no two stickers may be the same color. (See Step Two) If the stickers are of varying size, please choose one of each to place on the egg. Place them in a pretty bowl to admire for a bit, making sure the eggs are not side-by-side with their same color mate. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Yes, I'm aware the yellows are a little too close...thanks for reminding me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sc2rBd7oaLI/AAAAAAAAAEI/gAzjS6RDOWo/s1600-h/EasterEgg4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And voila~12 plastic eggs, filled and ready to hunt! You thought I was gonna make it hard on you huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have to share that the stickers I bought do &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; stay stuck very well. I guess I could&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;go buy a different kind but I'm a little too tired after slaving over the eggs. And let's be honest, one must learn to pick one's candy-filled Easter egg battles...don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(*This post is dedicated to all my obsessive-compulsive, anal-retentive, watch-out-or-I'm-gonna-implode friends...and you know who you are...because you are crying at this very moment.  And if any of you know how to make all these paragraphs and pictures parallel, for heaven's sake fill me in!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/442427842162084158-6181433690719380074?l=shinealightgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6181433690719380074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-therapy.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/6181433690719380074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/6181433690719380074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-therapy.html' title='Blog Therapy?'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sc2qtZNKBTI/AAAAAAAAADo/zu-6yXZJ50E/s72-c/EasterEgg1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-442427842162084158.post-556525370310423173</id><published>2009-03-23T23:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T23:24:08.391-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Confessions'/><title type='text'>Yes, I Know He's Completely Fictional</title><content type='html'>Maybe I should feel guilty, considering my last post was about a ten year anniversary trip with my husband. But I would not be completely honest if I didn't admit that I look forward to a weekly Thursday night date with this guy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316584667365887426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 327px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SchNliShzcI/AAAAAAAAADQ/V0hxxuMk-ZA/s400/Jim+Halpert+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Jim Halpert from The Office. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I know he's completely fictional.&lt;br /&gt;But here are some of the reasons I love Jim:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*He's funny and his office pranks on Dwight always crack me up&lt;br /&gt;*He's friendly and approachable...an "every guy" if you will&lt;br /&gt;*He's expressive and cute&lt;br /&gt;*He's a little dorky, but somehow still pretty cool&lt;br /&gt;*He's romantic and affectionate&lt;br /&gt;*He's not afraid to take big chances for love...awwww!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315461256126824898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 367px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/ScRP2ZTKgcI/AAAAAAAAADA/kLxlOEqS6fA/s400/Jim+Halpert+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;I'm gonna categorize this post under "Confessions" along with a couple others I've done (boobies, anyone?!) and remind myself it's just a way to show you a different side of me. We've all had our crushes on characters in our lifetime, right?? Right?? &lt;em&gt;Please&lt;/em&gt; tell me I'm right. Haha! So now's your turn to make a little confession of your own...who's your favorite fictional character crush, past or present, and why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/442427842162084158-556525370310423173?l=shinealightgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/556525370310423173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/yes-i-know-hes-completely-fictional.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/556525370310423173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/556525370310423173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/yes-i-know-hes-completely-fictional.html' title='Yes, I Know He&apos;s Completely Fictional'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SchNliShzcI/AAAAAAAAADQ/V0hxxuMk-ZA/s72-c/Jim+Halpert+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-442427842162084158.post-3998097465983983875</id><published>2009-03-13T22:51:00.031-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T23:28:43.656-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Romantic Retreat</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the hubby and I are celebrating 10 years this s&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SbseF1YUWOI/AAAAAAAAACA/_gicG7Op1Ec/s1600-h/Savannah1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ummer and we are trying to decide where we might go to enjoy a little romantic retreat. After all, 10 years and 3 kids later, we're hanging on to those pure "couplehood" days by a single frayed thread.  Not really, but sometimes it feels like it, huh?  Anyway... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm thinking Savannah...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SbseZtb5b7I/AAAAAAAAACQ/gEYGoBgGMuQ/s1600-h/Savannah2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312873612455800754" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 119px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 79px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SbseZtb5b7I/AAAAAAAAACQ/gEYGoBgGMuQ/s320/Savannah2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sbsd7q3nyPI/AAAAAAAAABw/euhcJPCT-Xs/s1600-h/Savannah3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312873096370702578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 120px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 79px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sbsd7q3nyPI/AAAAAAAAABw/euhcJPCT-Xs/s320/Savannah3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SbseZtb5b7I/AAAAAAAAACQ/gEYGoBgGMuQ/s1600-h/Savannah2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312873513772945330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 81px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 119px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SbseT90Ej7I/AAAAAAAAACI/XQaHuRPXyYI/s320/Savannah1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've only been there once and for just one half of a day really. It was the middle of July and burning up hot. And I do not handle hot very well. Even if I &lt;em&gt;am&lt;/em&gt; from Mississippi. I learned at a young age that when it's hot &lt;em&gt;outside&lt;/em&gt;, you stay &lt;em&gt;inside&lt;/em&gt;. Simple as that. What are air conditioners for anyway? So I'd like to go back and see a little more of the city, check out the local art and maybe dine at Paula Deen's restaurant. I do love me some Southern cookin'! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'd also love to finally visit Charleston...&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;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SbsfbVoui9I/AAAAAAAAACY/vJzj28S_J0s/s1600-h/Charleston3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312874739938528210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 119px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 83px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SbsfbVoui9I/AAAAAAAAACY/vJzj28S_J0s/s320/Charleston3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SbsfpO6S9KI/AAAAAAAAACo/HULAIzTrSj0/s1600-h/Charleston2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312874978651337890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 119px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 79px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SbsfpO6S9KI/AAAAAAAAACo/HULAIzTrSj0/s320/Charleston2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312874862623031010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 97px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sbsfieq_fuI/AAAAAAAAACg/5bbfId2cKLE/s320/Charleston1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have heard so many wonderful things about this city and I'm sure it would be perfect for a little lovey dovey vacation too.   I've heard they have some beautiful semi-private beaches there...wink wink! &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;So what do y'all think?  Have you been to either of these places and which would you recommend?  Or do you have another suggestion that is within reason?  I mean, obviously, with the stimulus checks not being forthcoming and all, we must set some limits I suppose.  Fiji can wait, right?  &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;I'd love to hear your thoughts...   &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/442427842162084158-3998097465983983875?l=shinealightgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3998097465983983875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/romantic-retreat.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/3998097465983983875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/3998097465983983875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/romantic-retreat.html' title='Romantic Retreat'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SbseZtb5b7I/AAAAAAAAACQ/gEYGoBgGMuQ/s72-c/Savannah2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-442427842162084158.post-1583744739841624920</id><published>2009-03-11T00:17:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T17:33:38.412-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oughtta Get Paid For This</title><content type='html'>Y'all I've been on a health kick and it seems to be working. I think now that I'm of an &lt;em&gt;*ahem*&lt;/em&gt; certain age it is finally sinking in that if I want to be healthy and strong, then well, it's up to me to get myself that way. I've tried the whole sittin' on the couch eating like I'm still in college or something and you know what? It's just not cuttin' it anymore. For despite all the excuses I've come up with through the years, what's really been getting in my way is little ole me (or, "not-so-little-anymore ole me"). So about a month ago I joined Weight Watchers online and as of yesterday I met my initial goal weight! Everybody stand up and sing: &lt;em&gt;Go shorty, it's your birthday, and we gon' party like it's your birthday!&lt;/em&gt; WooooHoooo! Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, thank you, alright, yes, you can sit back down now, but...gather around y'all because in my quest to be 'more' of me by being 'less' of me, I have found something I must share with the world, or at the least maybe those two of you who actually read this blog. But I digress. Okay, are you ready for it?....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311766628194100594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SbcvmvtIpXI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnY6t2zsCvg/s400/Camelbak+Water+Bottle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;THIS is the new &lt;strong&gt;Object of My Affection&lt;/strong&gt; and I've just gotta shout it out loud! After years of searching for the perfect water bottle (one simply must have a new-fangled water bottle every time one embarks on a health kick, you know) I finally found THE ONE. And it looks just like this...I'm a little misty-eyed just seeing the picture. This is the &lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Camelbak .75L Better Bottle&lt;/span&gt; and I just can't say enough about it--I love, love, love it!! Please allow me to describe to you all the benefits of this OoMA (Object of My Affection):&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Comes in a variety of colors to suit your taste&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Has a nifty little handle that makes it easy to carry along even when your hands are full&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Valve and straw make drinking from it less awkward than turning a water bottle up and chugging right in front of everyone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Ingenious colored bite valve camouflages lipstick/gloss residue (gross!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Doesn't sweat a bit even when filled with the iciest of water!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;And last, but certainly not least, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;This water bottle DOES NOT LEAK no matter how much you shake it or which way you turn it or even if you drop it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I could go on and on, but let me just say I give this water bottle almost all the credit for my newly formed healthy habit of drinking 48+ ounces of water per day. (plus Crystal Light--specifically White Grape--yum!) And when my sweet little two year old daughter looks up at me and asks, "Mommeeeee, Izzat Yew Sippeee Cuuup?" I can say &lt;em&gt;emphatically&lt;/em&gt;, "YES! Yes this is mommy's sippy cup! Hallelujah!" I have never had so much love for a water bottle in my life. Whew. Now go out and get ya one!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/442427842162084158-1583744739841624920?l=shinealightgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1583744739841624920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/oughtta-get-paid-for-this.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/1583744739841624920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/1583744739841624920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/oughtta-get-paid-for-this.html' title='Oughtta Get Paid For This'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SbcvmvtIpXI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnY6t2zsCvg/s72-c/Camelbak+Water+Bottle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-442427842162084158.post-3031506347662833260</id><published>2009-03-05T20:45:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T20:57:50.232-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cruel I Tell Ya!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I promise I won't complain again for awhile, but since my blog is only a week old surely you don't expect me to wait until next year to say:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Why does THIS.....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SbCA48m_bDI/AAAAAAAAABg/0P4UPHuACUI/s1600-h/Swimsuit+Issue.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309885676500511794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 106px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 147px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SbCA48m_bDI/AAAAAAAAABg/0P4UPHuACUI/s400/Swimsuit+Issue.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;always have to arrive in our mailbox&lt;br /&gt;the week of &lt;strong&gt;Valentine's Day&lt;/strong&gt;!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's cruel I tell ya!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/442427842162084158-3031506347662833260?l=shinealightgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3031506347662833260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/cruel-i-tell-ya.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/3031506347662833260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/3031506347662833260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/cruel-i-tell-ya.html' title='Cruel I Tell Ya!'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SbCA48m_bDI/AAAAAAAAABg/0P4UPHuACUI/s72-c/Swimsuit+Issue.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-442427842162084158.post-7129892247819969970</id><published>2009-03-03T14:41:00.029-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T23:25:42.531-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Confessions'/><title type='text'>This One's For The Girls</title><content type='html'>To tell you the truth, this post is not so much "for" the girls but "about" the girls. And I assure you Martina McBride did not have &lt;em&gt;these&lt;/em&gt; particular girls in mind when she recorded her song and stole my post title. No&lt;em&gt;, &lt;/em&gt;as far as I know, no song has ever been written about &lt;em&gt;these&lt;/em&gt; girls and if it had then surely to goodness I'd know about it by now. The girls I'm referring to are not actually females but they belong to females if you were blessed with those good sorts of genes. So if you're the type who's uncomfortable talking about the female anatomy, then read no further. You have been duly warned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOOBIES! There you have it. This post is all about the boobies. And y'all, I'm not afraid to be honest with you about some serious boobie stuff I'm dealing with. I wrote a little song about it (to the tune of "These Boots Were Made for Walking")...and it goes a little somethin' like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;These boobs weren't made for fallin'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But that's just what they do!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;One of these days these boobs are gonna fall down to my shoes!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a cutesy song to let everybody in the big blogworld know that women everywhere are being deceived. Not necessarily lied to, just not given the all-out truth before the damage is done. I'm sure the La Leche League and all those others who tout the benefits of breastfeeding have only the best of intentions. But y'all, breastfeeding takes a TOLL, let me tell ya. And I should know. After nursing one baby for 10 months and two babies for 11 months, the ta-tas will never be the same. NE-VER. I can only imagine what that Dugger woman's boobs look like after nursing 18 kids. (I'm guessing she nursed since they're so frugal and all. Can you imagine the cost of formula for 18 kids!?!?!) Anyway, I'm pretty sure she's rolling those lovelies up and into her heavy duty bra at this point in the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to my real reason for this revealing post: I need &lt;em&gt;your&lt;/em&gt; help. Apparently there's nothing I can do about the droop aside from surgery and y'all, I am not all about that...yet. So I'm on the hunt for a bra that'll be a best friend to my boobies--you know, pick them up when they're down, support them through the highs and mostly lows, and just help them present their best selves to the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sa2da50E_PI/AAAAAAAAAA4/lQV6iAWoNmg/s1600-h/bra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309072621261094130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 113px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sa2da50E_PI/AAAAAAAAAA4/lQV6iAWoNmg/s320/bra.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Do your boobies have a best friend like this? If so, please let me know and pronto. 'Cause the shoes--they are not so far away anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Just keepin' it real girls. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just keepin' it real.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/442427842162084158-7129892247819969970?l=shinealightgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7129892247819969970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-ones-for-girls.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/7129892247819969970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/7129892247819969970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-ones-for-girls.html' title='This One&apos;s For The Girls'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/Sa2da50E_PI/AAAAAAAAAA4/lQV6iAWoNmg/s72-c/bra.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-442427842162084158.post-910642792704282921</id><published>2009-02-27T23:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T01:02:14.244-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's With The Name?</title><content type='html'>Part of the reason I hesitated to start a blog was that I was having a hard time deciding what I'd call it. Although I'm creative in many ways, coming up with "catchy" but not "dorky" names for things is not my forte and I will stress about it until the end days if left to myself. Dork, by the way, is my middle name--just so you understand where all this is coming from. And yes, I realize I just ended a sentence with a preposition. See, dorkiness, ugh. I say "ugh" a lot. (While I'm being honest, I also say "y'all" and use smiley face icons &lt;em&gt;a lot...a LOT!&lt;/em&gt;) So you can imagine my surprise and delight when God spoke straight to me through the speakers of my made for hot mamas only minivan. Three little words took hold of me and wouldn't let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before I go any further, I need to fill you in on where I've been spiritually this past month. Without getting too heavy, let me just say I've been struggling with feeling that many people in my life don't know the real me. And most of this is my own fault. I worry much about whether I've said the right words, done the right stuff or shown too much of my dorkiness to poor unsuspecting souls who might never be the same after runnin' across dorky ole me. This is what I'll call the Dorkiness Double Standard. You see, I &lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt; the dorkiness in everybody else. Just can't accept that others might actually love the dorkiness in me too. Go figure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now fast forward to about a week ago, when I was driving aforementioned hot mama minivan to pick up the twins at preschool. I was enthusiastically enjoying for once getting to listen to "my" music (which, let me assure you, does not include Sesame Street, The Wiggles, or any sort of Einstein) and was crankin' Wow Hits 2009. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307679686051705634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 123px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SaiqjZyrMyI/AAAAAAAAAAY/GG8WEHpanw0/s320/Wow+Hits+2009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Y'all, there are some REALLY good songs on that double cd set! But the one the Lord chose to use on me that day is called "Washed By The Water" by NeedtoBreathe. A line near the beginning of the song says "&lt;em&gt;Just tryin to make the world a little better You know, shine a light.&lt;/em&gt;" It struck me instantly and I knew the Holy Spirit was reminding me that I &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; to be shining my light. I'm &lt;em&gt;supposed&lt;/em&gt; to shine it. And I'm &lt;em&gt;hindering God from working through me&lt;/em&gt; by being too afraid to shine it! I mean, for all I know there's some Big Ole Dork who's reading this right now that needs to know the dorkiness is totally okay. (And it's okay if you're that dork.) So this song was the Lord saying to me "Shine A Light, Girl"! Shine. A. Light. Hence, the blog name.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And there you have it. Amen. &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/442427842162084158-910642792704282921?l=shinealightgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/910642792704282921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/02/whats-with-name.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/910642792704282921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/910642792704282921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/02/whats-with-name.html' title='What&apos;s With The Name?'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RYgH2-AJkNI/SaiqjZyrMyI/AAAAAAAAAAY/GG8WEHpanw0/s72-c/Wow+Hits+2009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-442427842162084158.post-7221035208270674559</id><published>2009-02-25T00:44:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T23:28:17.477-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Confessions'/><title type='text'>Confessions of a Neat Freak</title><content type='html'>Hey y'all! It's waaay too late and I am waaay too awake, but I have to confess something. After a full day, finally getting the kids to bed, actually exercising, then stopping to enjoy a post-exercise snack at 9:00pm (that's what you're supposed to do right? replace all those calories you just burned off?), I hopped in for an extra long shower and hopped out all motivated to clean out the bathroom cabinets and drawers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now under current circumstances this would be considered a nice little surprise. Lately it's been like pulling teeth to get me to do any sort of organizing around here. I know this is hard to believe as I am all "I'm gonna lose it if I can't find a place for everything and soon!" 97.65% of the time. (Y'all didn't know I was all technical-like either did you?) But the problem tonight is, I have two chapters to read for Bible study tomorrow morning. And it's already late. And did I mention the two chapters?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I must confess I chose to clean out. And although there's way more religion in that book than under my bathroom sink, I think I can honestly say I spent some quality time with the Lord digging through those drawers full of old hair products, nail polishes and half-used lip glosses. Because there's really nothing like the feeling of doing something that is so innate and true to the person God made me to be. Thank you, Lord, for making me ME! Guess I better wrap this up and get to reading...only two chapters to go! And by the way, the bathroom? It looks GOOD!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/442427842162084158-7221035208270674559?l=shinealightgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7221035208270674559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/02/confessions-of-neat-freak.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/7221035208270674559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/7221035208270674559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/02/confessions-of-neat-freak.html' title='Confessions of a Neat Freak'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-442427842162084158.post-9168396317238483828</id><published>2009-02-24T01:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T00:15:51.486-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Little Secret</title><content type='html'>Shhh...don't tell anyone but here I go. Several of my friends have started blogging and have encouraged me to do the same. I've laughed them off and given all sorts of excuses, like, I don't have the time, can't think of a thing to say, nobody would care anyway, blah blah blah. Well, as much as I am not usually one to jump on a bandwagon, I had to admit that I &lt;em&gt;am&lt;/em&gt; kinda sorta a little teeny tiny bit interested in this blog idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't ask me why but I think it has something to do with how pretty it all looks once it's done. Not kidding. That's a perfectly good reason, right? Oh yeah, and it's fun to think I can post anything I want, anytime I want and nobody can say anything about it. Wait, I want you to say something about it--just make sure it's nice...you know...if you can't say something nice, don't say it at all...isn't that how it goes? Just kidding. But if you must be cruel, at least do it softly and tenderly, right Michele? And if you act up I'll just delete your comment and it'll be our little secret. Just like my blog...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/442427842162084158-9168396317238483828?l=shinealightgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/9168396317238483828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/02/our-little-secret.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/9168396317238483828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/442427842162084158/posts/default/9168396317238483828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shinealightgirl.blogspot.com/2009/02/our-little-secret.html' title='Our Little Secret'/><author><name>LisaLisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17967392513479035799</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVypD6kgXBQ/TiuMNjqarxI/AAAAAAAAAHU/Lf_JsP9qOhg/s220/imagesCAR8Y0T8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
