<?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-2656633859845982513</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:25:43.190-06:00</updated><category term='Just Stuff'/><title type='text'>No Longer At The Kids' Table</title><subtitle type='html'>"No sex in the suburbs" meets "looking for mr. candy bar" meets "design on a dime"</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>136</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-5884217414675039372</id><published>2009-03-04T09:10:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T09:18:30.616-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's not you, it's me</title><content type='html'>It is time to say goodbye. My buying a house is what brought us together, and I feel that now we have nothing left to talk about. I hate to see that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt; look on your face when once again I stood you up with nothing new to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to give my rose to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt;. Don't cry, we can still be friends...if you send me a friend request.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I ever move again, maybe we can get back together again. I'll keep you as a bookmark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye, faithful friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love always,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;NLATKT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS. My friend and I jogged the whole 5k! I didn't think we (I) could do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PPS. Owning a house during tax season is awesome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-5884217414675039372?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/5884217414675039372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=5884217414675039372' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5884217414675039372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5884217414675039372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2009/03/its-not-you-its-me.html' title='It&apos;s not you, it&apos;s me'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-6782568681606270504</id><published>2009-02-01T20:38:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T21:01:15.329-06:00</updated><title type='text'>HD, 5K, IRS, CH2ON5, WTF, 2:30AM#1</title><content type='html'>Many topics to discuss that I don't want to really devote full posts to. I'm that lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1 I got my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;HD&lt;/span&gt; satellite on Saturday (finally)! Yea! So I'm watching the Super Bowl in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;HD&lt;/span&gt; on my new plasma TV! My service appointment was to arrive between 8-12. He didn't arrive until after 5. I won't fill you in with the multiple calls I made and amount of steam coming out of my ears. Point is, my TV rocks now, and my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;DVR&lt;/span&gt; was upgraded b/c they were out of what I had ordered. So now I can record like 300 hours or something. I'm recording the SB now so I can skip through the game and watch the commercials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2 I think I will do a 5k at the end of the month. My friend and I started exercising together last week. We agreed to work out on Thursday nights to motivate each other. She is preparing for the 5k, and since it was kind of nice to talk while we jogged, she said I should do the race with her so she would finish. Since I obviously need some type of finish line to motivate me to exercise, I think I will do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#3 I think I have all the forms I need to start my taxes. I'm a little curious to see if I will get some money back since I have been paying a lot of interest on my home loan this year. I should put that money towards paying off the mortgage. But I'm thinking...vacation...Ann Taylor Loft...trellis for the backyard...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4 I'm thinking I might try to attempt to looking into to researching having a compost heap thing for yard waste. I raked just my back yard this weekend (yes, I know fall was so last year), and filled up 5 big garbage sacks. If I had one of those things, I could have fresh mulch for my yard next year. Not sure what kind of commitment or eyesore it will be. Just in the "thinking about" phase right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#5 There is a bad smell in my living room that I can't pinpoint! BF said he can't smell anything. But I know better. At first I thought it must be coming from the kitchen and I was just noticing it since they are in the same big room. But I definitely notice it in when I'm in the living area and not the dining or kitchen. Though it does smell a bit like rotting food. I've checked under the cushions, under all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;movable&lt;/span&gt; furniture. I thought maybe one of the cats had left a present for me, but I'm sure I would have found that by now. I can't pinpoint it exactly, but seems to be strongest around the front door. Maybe something died in the attic or around the porch. I guess I need to go up there. It did sound like a squirrel was running in my rain gutters last week. I kinda don't want to look b/c of the book I'm reading right now, &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sarahs-Key-Tatiana-Rosnay/dp/0312370849/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1233543181&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;Sarah's&lt;/a&gt; Key.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#6 The Australian Open finals aired both Sat and Sun at 2:30 am. Being the not so intense tennis fan I am, I chose to record them and watch them at a decent hour. Stupid &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;DVR&lt;/span&gt; didn't record all of the men's...cut off in the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; set. It went to five. But they replayed it, and I caught the fifth set just as I got home from the grocery store tonight. I wish &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Federe&lt;/span&gt; had one. I like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Nadal&lt;/span&gt;, but now I feel that Roger will not be able to get over the mental defeat, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Rafael &lt;/span&gt;will crush him from now on. But, maybe now that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Nadal&lt;/span&gt; has beaten him on almost every type of court, Roger can relax and just play his game. I think the world should observe CST. Who cares if the sun is up at noon or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-6782568681606270504?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/6782568681606270504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=6782568681606270504' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6782568681606270504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6782568681606270504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2009/02/hd-5k-irs-ch2on5-wtf-230am1.html' title='HD, 5K, IRS, CH2ON5, WTF, 2:30AM#1'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-621139256234571199</id><published>2009-01-20T20:52:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T20:57:11.107-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Get outta my face...book!</title><content type='html'>Startling news.  My parents have signed up on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt;.   Now I have to censor everything I post before posting.  On second thought, the world is probably better for that.  At least I still have my blog that I can ramble on without too much thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the gym tonight for the first time in a heck of a long time.  Somewhere in my first few minutes of the bike, I had a crazy thought.  Maybe I do want to do another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;triathlon&lt;/span&gt;.  Remember the feeling of accomplishment?  The 10 pounds that I lost?  The cool new padded bike pants and goggles I wore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a few minutes later, that thought disappeared to be replaced with thoughts of dinner and since when did 15 minutes seem so long?  And how did I gain back 7 of those pounds so quickly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will see where those thoughts lead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-621139256234571199?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/621139256234571199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=621139256234571199' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/621139256234571199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/621139256234571199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2009/01/get-outta-my-facebook.html' title='Get outta my face...book!'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-6449677095864169111</id><published>2009-01-03T14:11:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T14:23:39.854-06:00</updated><title type='text'>He went to Jared's!</title><content type='html'>Just kidding, he went to Best Buy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of people were expected me to get something different for Christmas from b/f.  I hope they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;weren't&lt;/span&gt; too disappointed, b/c I wasn't.  Actually I don't care if they were disappointed.  It was a very nice Christmas, thank you very much.  I got a GPS and a very nice new laptop briefcase/portfolio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even remember much about the trip to tell you, it all seems so last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our flights were great and problem free.  We rented a car and drove straight to his parents' house.  Most of the people were already in town.  Everyone was very nice and welcoming.  They certainly had their family traditions and routines down.  Since there was a big group there (I think 14-19 for most the dinners, everyone took turns cooking and planning the meal.  His brother-in-law is a good cook, and handled a lot of the main dishes.  He even had wine shipped to the house to complement each dinner.    So most things went very smoothly, at least from my lazy, non-helping manner.  The only thing I did was the grate some cheese.  But it felt a little like too many chefs in the small kitchen, so I tried my best to get out of the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We mostly spent our time at his parents during the day, and his brother's house at night.  B/F drove me around El &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Paso&lt;/span&gt; one afternoon, all of his old schools, and we went up the scenic overlook from the mountains.  I had been there about 8 years ago, and I remembered many things.  Instead of buying presents (other than stockings), the family decided to donate gifts and money to a child crisis center in town.  So Christmas Eve day, we all went over there and delivered the stuff - b/f was very generous with buying diapers and formula, etc.  We got a tour of the facility and they showed us some of their new improvements.  The family even had a very nice TV delivered and it was hooked up when we got there.  So that was a very cool way to spend the day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked around  a neighborhood to look at lights...went to his sister's house on the other side of town and went to a nature preserve place.  But really, other than that, we were at the house.  And it wasn't too bad!  It went by faster than I expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The strangest part was seeing women who look like b/f :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-6449677095864169111?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/6449677095864169111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=6449677095864169111' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6449677095864169111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6449677095864169111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2009/01/he-went-to-jareds.html' title='He went to Jared&apos;s!'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4452967181756084452</id><published>2008-12-21T21:44:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T21:55:19.574-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Day of Reckoning</title><content type='html'>Wish me luck! Tomorrow I meet b/f 's parents, and siblings, and cousins, and nieces and nephews. All. At. Once. I guess it is only fair as he has met virtually all of the relatives that I seen in any given year, and some that I only see occasionally (at my brother's wedding reception).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After thinking we were going to make the 9 hour drive to El &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Paso&lt;/span&gt;, b/f threw me a curve on Thursday by showing me the airline tickets. Not that it was a bad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;curve ball&lt;/span&gt;. Just not what I had been mentally adjusting to. I had bought several books on tape, and had visions of us having nice, long &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;relationshipy&lt;/span&gt; talks. Visions of one less afternoon/evening with his family :) But this will be good. He can finally try out the cool sound blocking head phones I got him for his birthday. Yes, that was in August. Apparently they work so well he can't use them at work, because he needs to hear some sounds like his phone, or his girlfriend talking to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it will be good - less wear and tear on my car (he drives a totally uncomfortable truck), and less of a sore butt. Ask me again after I return from two of the most busiest airport days of the year. I may have wished we drove :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here it is almost 10:00 and I haven't started packing yet. Our flight doesn't leave until 1:15 tomorrow, but I still have a lot to do. But I can make it. I'm on vacation. Sort of. I will ignore the fact that I just got finished working. But at least my work gives me the laptop, so I can bring it and just surf when I need to get away from all this family togetherness. And my wireless data card will be a real life-saver as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel that if I think it will be a bad trip, then when it is fun, it will totally beat my expectations. I have a sneaky feeling that his family will be so much funner than mine, so I'm probably deep down jealous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! And b/f got me a GPS ! So now I can try to go back to Luke's Locker without getting lost the next time I need shoes. And he totally loved the gifts I got him. Two I was unsure about, but he loved them! I think if I focus and pay attention and have money, then maybe I can be a good gift-giver after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Holidays! Merry Christmas! Happy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hanukkah&lt;/span&gt;! Happy Kwanzaa! And God bless us one and all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4452967181756084452?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4452967181756084452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4452967181756084452' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4452967181756084452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4452967181756084452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/12/wish-me-luck-tomorrow-i-meet-bf-s.html' title='Day of Reckoning'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-62143683000526369</id><published>2008-12-10T15:16:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T15:21:45.086-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The snow is always snowier on the other side of the snow pile</title><content type='html'>Everytime we come to Minneapolis for business trips in the winter, we joke to our clients that they must either be crazy or gluttons for punishment for living up here (It was about 15degrees F. when we landed).  And they laugh and say that while it is cold, it's not that cold, it could be worse.  The people up in Delouth, off the shores of Lake Superior, are the really crazy ones.  It may snow as late in the year as June.  They will wear shorts as soon as it gets above 30 degrees.  I wonder what the Delouthians say when people ask if they are crazy.   What, -20?  That's nothing.  You should go to Canada.  Those people are crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, we get the same comments in reverse in August.  30 consecutive days of 100+ temps?  You must be crazy.  Yes, we in Dallas are crazy, but you should try living in Houston.  Oh, the humidity!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-62143683000526369?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/62143683000526369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=62143683000526369' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/62143683000526369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/62143683000526369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/12/snow-is-always-snowier-on-other-side-of.html' title='The snow is always snowier on the other side of the snow pile'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-5945921328265201637</id><published>2008-12-02T17:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T17:58:10.487-06:00</updated><title type='text'>1 Out Of Every 5 Statistics Is Made Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This month, I paid off my second mortgage!  My original goal was to put down 20%, but I only put down 12%.  I possibly could have put down more, but then I would have had no money to buy the cool electronic lawn mower I needed.  So long story short, I took out a second loan for 8%, at a much higher interest rate, and a weird 15-year balloon term.  I didn't like the terms, so I wanted to pay it off as soon as I could.  Turns out that took me about 15 months.  That is a bit of a relief.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I now own 20% of my house!  One-fifth.  Which is about 300 square feet and some grass.  I'll say it is my living room.  Hands off!  It's all mine.  I wish I only had to clean 1/5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of the house.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-5945921328265201637?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/5945921328265201637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=5945921328265201637' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5945921328265201637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5945921328265201637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/12/1-out-of-every-5-statistics-is-made-up.html' title='1 Out Of Every 5 Statistics Is Made Up'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-6719499062963095029</id><published>2008-11-21T11:20:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T11:20:55.100-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Another sign I am old.</title><content type='html'>I bought new blue jeans at Kohl's...wait for it...."Now with Comfort Waist!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-6719499062963095029?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/6719499062963095029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=6719499062963095029' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6719499062963095029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6719499062963095029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/11/another-sign-i-am-old.html' title='Another sign I am old.'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-379093101715054173</id><published>2008-11-18T09:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T09:32:05.697-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Eco-what?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I did it.  I finally remembered to bring my recycled bags INTO the grocery store.  You don’t save the earth by leaving the bags in your house.  Or your car.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The nice people at Kroger still act a little surprised that I brought in bags.  The lady asked if I only wanted the chicken in there.  I was like, no, put everything you can.  All the heavy stuff.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I bought $70 worth of groceries, and it all fit in 2 recycled bags and 2 plastic.  It probably would have been about 6-8 plastic bags normally.  It hasn't become a habit yet, but I'm working on it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-379093101715054173?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/379093101715054173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=379093101715054173' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/379093101715054173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/379093101715054173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/11/eco-what.html' title='Eco-what?'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4235440216309212251</id><published>2008-10-22T12:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T12:15:32.518-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Anyone else?</title><content type='html'>Is anyone else excited about the temperature change...because we can now wear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;corduroy&lt;/span&gt; pants? I am! That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4235440216309212251?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4235440216309212251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4235440216309212251' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4235440216309212251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4235440216309212251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/10/anyone-else.html' title='Anyone else?'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-1062563647130123083</id><published>2008-10-19T17:27:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T17:45:10.762-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Instead of cleaning the house</title><content type='html'>I will tell you about my wonderful weekend. After being disappointed about not going to the fair on Thursday due to bf not getting off work, we planned to go Friday. After being disappointed about not leaving as early as I wanted, we finally left for the fair about 3:30. Which meant we did hit some traffic, and we didn't enter the gates until almost 5. But we had all night. And it was pretty much perfect! The weather was amazing. I brought a little jacket, but didn't need to put it on until about 9pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't see many shows, but we did eat. and eat. And ride rides. I didn't know my bf was a ride kinda guy. I guess I shouldn't assume with him anymore. He used to work in the summers at an amusement park, so he ran the rides. But not in a c&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;arney&lt;/span&gt; type of place. A regular place. Makes a big difference :) Anyway, the rides we did were pretty tame. But still expensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After getting a lemonade, on my recommendation, we watched a dog show. It was Dancing With The Dogs. Kind of lame in my opinion. I've seen better dog training at the fair before. A few were pretty good. A little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wiener&lt;/span&gt; dog walking backwards was pretty precious. Anyway, then we went on the hunt for corny dogs. We were going to attempt to eat only pork and corn products all night :) We were mostly successful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also ate grilled corn on the cob (roasted is much better, this was kinda soggy). Then we did the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ferris&lt;/span&gt; wheel. I didn't know it was the tallest ride in the western hemisphere. It was pretty nice...at sunset. On a cloudless day. Did I mention the weather was perfect? Not even windy up there. Then we went on the hunt for the deep fried bacon. You heard me correctly. It was good, but not exactly something you want to eat every day. We ran into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bf's&lt;/span&gt; old boss and his wife. I never run into anyone I know. We missed the pig races though :( Then we did the tall slide going down on a sack. You have to climb all the way to the top! It was tiring. Only because you would do something like this at the fair and no where else...we went into the little booth with the sign that says World's Smallest Horse. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Every time&lt;/span&gt; I have been to the fair, I have always wanted to go look. Because the people coming out never have a readable expression, like ha ha that was lame, or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt; that was incredible. So my curiosity bloomed. I will leave it for you, and not spoil it with my opinion. Other than to say, I'm guessing miniature ponies must not have counted in the contest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed over to the little pond to the swan paddle boat. It was fun, although the water was pretty rank smelling at times. But again, it was perfect...we hadn't been in the water very long when the fire works show began. And we could see most of them from our spot. The show was very short and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;disappointing&lt;/span&gt;, but I wouldn't have picked a better vantage point to watch it.   Then we saw the pyramid sand sculptures...pretty neat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was time for dessert! I let him pick, and we got the fried peanut butter and jelly and banana sandwich. I'm not a big fan of bananas with stuff, but this was pretty good. The second section I had had more jelly and less banana, and it was yummy. The bread was like french toast consistency. The milk beverage choice was the best decision of the night. It was ice cold and very complementary to the sandwich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did walk by the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;main stage&lt;/span&gt; to see Jessica Simpson. I wasn't impressed for the 2 minutes we listened. And it wasn't overflowing with people, like I expected. After breezing through the car show, we had spare tickets. We were stuffed, so we decided to do one of the fun houses. Again, not something I would have done on my own, but that's the fun of it, right? We did the house of mirrors. It was hard to get the maze! So much harder than I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left a little after 10, and it was a very short walk to our car since we got there when lots were leaving. It was perfect!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-1062563647130123083?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/1062563647130123083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=1062563647130123083' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1062563647130123083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1062563647130123083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/10/instead-of-cleaning-house.html' title='Instead of cleaning the house'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-7759326750732784141</id><published>2008-10-13T08:59:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T09:01:46.979-06:00</updated><title type='text'>For the last time</title><content type='html'>Hopefully for the last time this year, I mowed, edged, weed ate, and generally wore myself out on Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a full day of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;outsideness&lt;/span&gt; Saturday.  I was outside playing tennis, or waiting around to play tennis, or waiting around for the other people to finish playing tennis, from about 8:30 until 11:30.  Then I went home, ate some lunch, and headed out to do yard work.  I figured since I was already sweaty and stinky, might as well get more gross.  Trying to save shower water, being the environmentalist that I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yard work didn't start out well.  I began by edging (which I dislike...mowing is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;).  I got about a good 10 feet down the driveway when I ran out of string on the edger.  Before buying a house and a yard, I had no idea that the edger uses a plastic string that is spun around very fast and slices the grass.  I assumed there was a blade. So there's your lesson for the day.  I was positive that I didn't have anymore, and I was p.o.'d that I couldn't get through the season without having to go buy some more.  So I put it away and started mowing, trying to decide if I would be brave enough to go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart or Lowe's all stinky and grassy.  Luckily for me, I didn't have to.  As I was cleaning out the garage after mowing, I found one last disc of string.  Yippee!  So I was able to finish making my yard perfection...or as close as I am going to get.  I stayed away from the poison oak, but probably &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;inhaled&lt;/span&gt; it since I was weed eating around the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I took a shower, and played around on the computer, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;stupid&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt;.  Didn't even get a real good nap in! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much later than I would have wanted, bf came over and we went to a local Greek Food Festival.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Opa&lt;/span&gt;!  I got very tired of hearing that.  It was much more crowded than I expected.  There was only one line for food, and we waited for close to an hour.  We had beers and it was a nice night, and my hunger pains had faded, so it was a pleasant time.  We could partially see the Greek dancers on stage, too.  By the time we got our food, it was after nine, and they had run out of every meat except the gyro meat.  So that's what we had.  Bf had roasted garlic, and we split a fried cheese dish.  I didn't like the cheese (too strong and stinky for me), but bf loved it all.  I enjoyed the gyro very much.  The food and drinks were all relatively expensive (free entrance and parking), but for a good cause, I'm assuming.  The Greek Orthodox Church is planning to build a new church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was strange to see priests there with their children, since I am used to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;celibate&lt;/span&gt; priestly life.  But it was overall a very nice and different evening.  Otherwise, we probably would have been on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;bf's&lt;/span&gt; couch watching hockey.  The Stars lost anyway, so it was a good choice to go.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Opa&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-7759326750732784141?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/7759326750732784141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=7759326750732784141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7759326750732784141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7759326750732784141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/10/for-last-time.html' title='For the last time'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-8067425380710486015</id><published>2008-09-29T12:12:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T07:51:27.483-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends Like You, Who Needs Friends?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Here's a fun little game.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. Put your MP3 player on shuffle.&lt;br /&gt;2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.&lt;br /&gt;3. You must write that song name down no matter how ridiculous it sounds.&lt;br /&gt;4. Put any comments in brackets after the song name.&lt;br /&gt;****************************************************************************&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. If 1someone says, "Is this okay?" You say? - Surrendering [&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Alanis&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Morissette&lt;/span&gt;. I guess I am a pushover.]&lt;br /&gt;2. How would you describe yourself? - These Are the Days [Jamie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cullum&lt;/span&gt;. Yes, but what does that have to do with it?]&lt;br /&gt;3. What do you like in a guy/girl? - All You Need Is Love [Beatles. True &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;dat&lt;/span&gt;. Love, and a little money don't hurt.]&lt;br /&gt;4. How do you feel today? - Oh Yoko! [John &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Lennan&lt;/span&gt;. I feel Yoko quite often.]&lt;br /&gt;5. What is your life's purpose? - Painters [Jewel. Cool. Does that mean that I need to go save some painters? Or I get to paint?]&lt;br /&gt;6. What is your motto? - Hello, It's Me [Todd &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Rundgren&lt;/span&gt;. Just so you don't get confused. It's me.]&lt;br /&gt;7. What do your friends think of you? - Home Again [Carol King. Yes, I am quite the homebody.]&lt;br /&gt;8. What do you think of your parents? - 21 Things I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Want&lt;/span&gt; In A Lover [&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Alanis&lt;/span&gt;. Highly inappropriate, I know.]&lt;br /&gt;9. What do you think about often? - The Ballad of John and Yoko [Beatles. Only when I'm in a Yoko-kind of mood.]&lt;br /&gt;10. What is 2+2? - Rue St. Vincent [Yves &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Montand&lt;/span&gt;. Obviously. That new math is working out well.]&lt;br /&gt;11. What do you think about your best friend? - These dreams of You [Van Morrison.]&lt;br /&gt;12. What do you think about the person you like? - The First Cut is the Deepest [&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Sherly&lt;/span&gt; Crow. I hope he doesn't cut me!]&lt;br /&gt;13. What do you want to be when you grow up? - Too Much Food [Jason &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Mraz&lt;/span&gt;. That sounds like a great occupation.]&lt;br /&gt;14. What do you think of when you see the person you like? - Red House [&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Jimi&lt;/span&gt; Hendrix. I grew up in a red house.]&lt;br /&gt;15. What will you dance to at your wedding? - Somewhere Only We Know [Keane. Ah, I like that song.]&lt;br /&gt;16. What will they play at your funeral? - Chariot [Gavin &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Degraw&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;.]&lt;br /&gt;17. What is your hobby/interest? - Maybe I [Five For Fighting. Maybe I would like to finish my sentences for a hobby.]&lt;br /&gt;18. What is your biggest fear? - A Minor &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Incident&lt;/span&gt; [Badly Drawn Boy. They are so underrated in terms of scariness. Everyone always talks about the big incidents.]&lt;br /&gt;19. What is your biggest secret? - If God Will Send His Angels [U2. Shh..Don't tell.]&lt;br /&gt;20. What do you think of your friends? - Tribal Gathering [The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Byrds&lt;/span&gt;. Have you seen the girls when they're all together? In their pink face paint? Very tribal.]&lt;br /&gt;21. What will you title this note? - Friends Like You, Who Needs Friends? [Mark &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Mothersbaugh&lt;/span&gt;. Well said. I mean, they are so tribal!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-8067425380710486015?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/8067425380710486015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=8067425380710486015' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8067425380710486015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8067425380710486015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/09/friends-like-you-who-needs-friends.html' title='Friends Like You, Who Needs Friends?'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-2070621687320879304</id><published>2008-09-25T12:41:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T12:42:13.543-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't wait for this week to be over, and not for the usual reasons</title><content type='html'>After having a good, but busy, weekend in Austin, this week hasn't been very good.  I got the flu shot Monday afternoon, and started feeling bad that right before I left work.  I threw up Monday night (which I think was a stomach bug going around the office), but then felt a little better in the morning.  I went to work Tuesday, but went home in the afternoon and was running a fever, which I guess was from the shot.  I felt the fever break in the middle of the night and felt much better Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then on Wednesday the spots on my arm that I've had for a week started itching.  I thought it might have been poison ivy/oak, because I had tried to clear some vines around my big oak tree last Monday night (I wore gloves and washed off afterwards, but I guess didn't do a good enough job).  I had a few spots, but they didn't bother me all week until yesterday.  Then they started itching, and oozing (yummy!) and I noticed more spots.  When I woke up this morning, I had a spot right next to my eye, so I figured I better go to the doctor just in case since I've never had it before and since I had had the fever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a full 10 second evaluation and medical history, he prescribed a cortisone shot and some prescriptions for a cream and more steroids.  The shot on my "hip" still kind of smarts.&lt;br /&gt;The itching isn't really bad, but I don't like that it on my face.  I feel like a leper.  At least this week has been somewhat slow at work, and I didn't have to visit any clients.  And that it's not picture day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will spare you and not post any pictures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-2070621687320879304?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/2070621687320879304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=2070621687320879304' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2070621687320879304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2070621687320879304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/09/cant-wait-for-this-week-to-be-over-and.html' title='Can&apos;t wait for this week to be over, and not for the usual reasons'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4709954955201023097</id><published>2008-09-14T14:49:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T14:53:40.251-06:00</updated><title type='text'>3 Weeks Off = Starting Over From Scratch</title><content type='html'>I hadn't been to the gym in 3 weeks.  After a few minutes on the treadmill, it felt like 3 months.  I could barely make it .75 miles.  After that I did sprint intervals.  All on a 1.5 mile incline, which I haven't done before.   Then swam for a little bit.  Would have swam longer, but old lady started talking to me in the pool (in the middle of my workout!)  I would have like to continue, but I felt sorry for her.  She said her husband died a month ago, so I guess she was lonely.  Or just one of those people who talk to strangers.  Anyway, I said I was sorry, and guessed it was hard on her, and she said "No, not really."    Earlier I saw her in the locker room.  She pulled stuff out a bag into the locker, and then pulled out a big box of Whoppers.   Not sure what that was all about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4709954955201023097?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4709954955201023097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4709954955201023097' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4709954955201023097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4709954955201023097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/09/3-weeks-off-starting-over-from-scratch.html' title='3 Weeks Off = Starting Over From Scratch'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-6445961923056292777</id><published>2008-09-10T12:09:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T12:12:40.731-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogged Out</title><content type='html'>You would think with all my time that I've not been spending at the gym lately, I would have time to blog every minute detail of my day.  But not really.  I've reverted to spending more time with my first love, my couch.  Yep, been falling asleep on the couch a lot lately.  I did go bike riding once, and tennis season is starting back up again.  So I am somewhat active. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I will try to come up with something to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I'm always thinking of new and better ways to blow my money, the issue of new car has been creeping around my little brain.  My car now is 5 years old.  So as you can obviously see, I'm in dire need of something new.  I justify my need for a new car because I am single.  I do not have the expertise to fix my own car.  So if it gets broken, I have to take it somewhere.  Which leaves me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;car-less&lt;/span&gt;.  And I have to get to work.  To pay for the car repair.  Yes, there are car rentals and loaner cars and blah, but it is inconvenient. I do that when I have to.  But when my car gets passed the warranty stage, and the little problems start creeping up, I get rid of it like a blackened banana. (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, I really put black bananas in the freezer for future banana bread).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the new car bug has been itching for about the last year or so.  I actually put myself off until this year, you know, because of the whole buying a house thing.  And now I want to wait until I pay off my 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; mortgage loan.  So responsible of myself.  But just when I tell my self I can hold off, my car gives me reason to want to get rid of it.  I think my brake fluid is leaking.  It's most likely a small repair, but it is still frustrating.  It makes me want to rush out and get a new car.  I have to take care of it soon because, I think, that brake fluids are pretty important to the whole stopping process.  And also I'm planning to drive to Austin next weekend.  I think Austin is hilly, which requires braking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I haven't been giving to charity as much as I had been.  I keep putting it off.  After I feel better about where I stand on the whole owing money thing.  After next month.  Always after.  Will turn that around soon.  After next month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also haven't been paying myself a car payment lately.  I paid off my car early, so I had been building up my savings account to put a bigger down payment on my next car.  My goal is to be able to pay cash for my next car (after this one).  We will see.  So maybe that is a sign that I shouldn't buy a new car, if I'm not able to pay myself.  I could probably pay myself, I just haven't wanted to make any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;sacrifices&lt;/span&gt;.  Of course, if I get the 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; loan paid off, I can rededicate that part of my budget to the car.  It is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;viscous&lt;/span&gt; cycle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-6445961923056292777?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/6445961923056292777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=6445961923056292777' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6445961923056292777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6445961923056292777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/09/blogged-out.html' title='Blogged Out'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-1311149476050704743</id><published>2008-08-31T20:13:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T20:16:39.350-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Anniversaries</title><content type='html'>Can you believe it is one year since I signed the papers on the house??  I sure can't.  Yep, Labor Day weekend last year, I was moving in the hot, hot sun.  Major differences between then and now....I have less money now, more furniture, a year of equity in the house, and a true home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, can you believe it has been one week since I did my triathlon??  I sure can't.  Yep, last Sunday, I was sweating in the hot, hot sun.  Major differences...I gained back3 pounds of the weight I lost training during this week of no exercise and eating what I wanted.  I will go the gym some time this week.  Maybe even tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-1311149476050704743?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/1311149476050704743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=1311149476050704743' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1311149476050704743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1311149476050704743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/08/anniversaries.html' title='Anniversaries'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4461982630895516550</id><published>2008-08-24T17:09:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T17:17:41.097-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Jennifer needs" game</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Here's a fun little way to spend 5 minutes.  Go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;google&lt;/span&gt; and enter "your name needs" and post the first ten appropriate entries. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm a little scared.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1.  Jennifer needs to be in a mental health facility right now &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(If I say that I am crazy, does that mean I'm really not, because only a sane person would realize they need help?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2.  Jennifer needs a smack daddy &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(I don't even know what to say about that)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. Jennifer Needs To Give Birth In The Next Week&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; (My gestation period is obviously much faster than the normal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;human's&lt;/span&gt;.  In that case, I am proud of myself for doing the triathlon in my condition)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4.  Jennifer Needs... My friend Jen over at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mythbuster&lt;/span&gt; Beauty tagged me in this fun little game. Google your first name and the word "needs" to find out the top &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(It's like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;deju&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;vu&lt;/span&gt; all over again)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5. Jennifer Needs A Shave &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(No one laughed at me in my bathing suit today...surely it can wait until morning?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6. Jennifer Needs a Cane &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(Yes, I can barely hobble)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7. Jennifer Needs Your Support&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; (No, thanks, a cane will do)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;8. Jennifer Needs Help! &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, if you won't give me a cane, I will accept your help)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; 9.  Jennifer H. really needs your help to help her reach her goal of 3000 this month &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(How did they know my last initial???  I should be more specific in my goals.  I forgot what my goal was.  3000 hours watching the Olympics - check)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;10. Jennifer Needs To Go This Week &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(I usually try to go every day, not just weekly.  I find it much more comfortable.  Except when you have to go in a yucky port-a-potty before your triathlon)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4461982630895516550?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4461982630895516550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4461982630895516550' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4461982630895516550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4461982630895516550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/08/jennifer-needs-game.html' title='&quot;Jennifer needs&quot; game'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-2035413795111204979</id><published>2008-08-24T16:57:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T17:06:32.340-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I could have used more spin classes</title><content type='html'>I survived my first (only?) triathlon! That is the most I can say about it. I finished. That was the goal. My friend also finished. It took me exactly 2 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will just say that I was not prepared for the biking part. So hilly. And being on a mountain bike instead of a road bike didn't help matters. And that led me to not be prepared for the run part. I only jogged maybe half of it. But even with all the walking, I finished the 5k in about 35 minutes. That just shows how slow my jog pace is since I was finishing with minimal walking on the treadmill in 31 minutes. I actually felt better at the end of the run than the beginning - perhaps due it to being downhill and shady at the finish line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe after I rest for a week I will give more details.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours truly,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Triathlete,&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-2035413795111204979?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/2035413795111204979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=2035413795111204979' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2035413795111204979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2035413795111204979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-could-have-used-more-spin-classes.html' title='I could have used more spin classes'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-8546003516817858855</id><published>2008-08-23T17:01:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T17:10:19.060-06:00</updated><title type='text'>24</title><content type='html'>Just over 24 hours to go.  I hope I am ready!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't get another workout in yesterday or today, but I got tons of prep work done on my bike that I didn't even know I needed.  Thanks to b/f, I now have two new slime tubes in my tires (supposed to be better against flats) and a seat bag, that contains stuff to help me fix a flat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, the thought of a flat tire had never crossed my mind concerning the race.  He showed me how to change my tire, and I hope I could do it again if I have, too.  It was pretty complicated and lots of little steps.  But I have to do something several times before I get the hang of it.  I decided it would be much easier to just never get a flat.  He agreed.  I wonder if my AAA membership would extend to a bike flat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a lot of sweat and struggle and only a little help from b/f, I was able to put my bike in my 2-door car without having to take off the front wheel, something which I have not mastered yet.  I didn't want to put it back in at 4 in the morning, so I just left it in the car.  I sure hope I can get it back out.  That would be an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;embarrassing&lt;/span&gt; reason to forfeit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am about to print off the directions now.  I will have to leave my house around 5 am.  Yikes!  I guess that is about it!  I will let you know how I did after I take a massive hibernating nap tomorrow.  Yes, I'm pretty sure someone will bring me my laptop at the hospital.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-8546003516817858855?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/8546003516817858855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=8546003516817858855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8546003516817858855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8546003516817858855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/08/24.html' title='24'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-3768052835986593666</id><published>2008-08-21T21:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T21:07:08.540-06:00</updated><title type='text'>In the homestretch</title><content type='html'>Tonight I rode my new bike around the neighborhood for about 30 minutes.  Lots of hills.  I was tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up my race packet today.  Got my number...365.  There are 365 days in the year, so it is a lucky number, right?  I will ignore the fact that it means I gave the 365&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; slowest swimming time of all the competitors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week will probably be the most days I have woken up early ever.  One day at 4:45 to catch a flight, one day at 5:45 to catch a flight, two days at 6 for work, and who knows what time I will get up to make sure I am signed in by 6:30 am at a place that is an hour away from where I live.  I'm not looking forward to doing that math.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-3768052835986593666?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/3768052835986593666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=3768052835986593666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3768052835986593666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3768052835986593666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/08/in-homestretch.html' title='In the homestretch'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-5437154107073825556</id><published>2008-08-20T19:54:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T13:42:01.522-06:00</updated><title type='text'>An Army Of One...Or I Don't Wanna Be A Soldier!</title><content type='html'>On the treadmill, I took the "Army fitness test". I scored a 5.5. That's great. Or I'll tell everyone it is great, because they didn't explain it. 5.5 out of what? What is the minimum? Would Uncle Sam want me??? Inquiring minds want to know. Maybe I need some career options, people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe I spent $11 to work out. Since I am traveling for work, and I haven't worked out since Sunday, I felt it was pretty necessary. What with the whole triathlon coming up in like 3.5 days, I decided to use the hotel's gym. It is an actual gym that regular people use, so I had to pay for a daily rate. And that is the discount hotel price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's break down how the $11 was spent. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Refrigerated&lt;/span&gt; towels (nice!) - $4. Polite but not particularly helpful front desk attendants (no tour or any words about where things were) - $2. Water cooler that ran out of water when I needed to fill up - $2. Huge Lysol wipe dispenser - $2. Fancy equipment with individual TV screens that I couldn't figure out how to use the volume or closed-captioning - $1. Working out instead of being lazy on the huge, fully-pillowed king bed - priceless. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;, not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;priceless&lt;/span&gt; - $11. I already told you that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to why you are here. I did 30 minutes on the bike (8 miles), followed by 2 miles on the treadmill (21 minutes). Guess what??? I ran the 2 miles without stopping! I think if I can get past the first .75 mile desire to stop, I can run for much longer than I think I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am worried after the bike ride though. I selected the hill program. I was shocked to discover after being on the bike for 3 minutes, it said I had only gone .25 miles. Normally, I go a whole mile in less than 3 minutes. So I seriously hope that either this bike was on drugs or that the race path does not have many hills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure about training the rest of the week. I figured I would rest on Saturday. I definitely need to swim at least one more time. So maybe another semi-long workout tomorrow night, and take it easy Fri/Sat. All I know for sure is that I plan to go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;IHOP&lt;/span&gt; tomorrow to eat lots of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;carbs&lt;/span&gt; in the form of pancakes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-5437154107073825556?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/5437154107073825556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=5437154107073825556' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5437154107073825556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5437154107073825556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/08/army-of-oneor-i-dont-wanna-be-soldier.html' title='An Army Of One...Or I Don&apos;t Wanna Be A Soldier!'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-7251423427265137163</id><published>2008-08-17T20:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T20:38:29.770-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One, Two, Three Times the Fun (and pain)</title><content type='html'>With the scary T Minus One Week countdown looming, I kicked my butt in gear and did the full mini-triathlon at the gym.  All I will say at this moment is that I did it without throwing up and I'm still alive.  I will wait until the morning to see if I can still feel my legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me less than 2 hours.  But that was inside.  I wonder what it will feel like in 90% humidity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the very least, I needed a good calorie burn.  I skipped working out for 3 days, and this weekend was a major piggy contest.  Wedding dinner with wine and cake, homemade pizza with 2 Dr. Peppers in one day (one of which had some Malibu mixed in...solely for medicinal purposes), cookies, and more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I emailed the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;triathlon&lt;/span&gt; and asked if they could bump my time up to 15 minutes for the swim instead of 10.  He did, but said big mistake.  Although he hasn't seen me swim.  I actually lost count of my laps today, so I either did 10 laps in 10:20 or 12 in 10:20 .... and 12 laps in12:30 or 14 laps in 12:30.  Who knows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-7251423427265137163?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/7251423427265137163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=7251423427265137163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7251423427265137163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7251423427265137163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/08/one-two-three-times-fun-and-pain.html' title='One, Two, Three Times the Fun (and pain)'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-6879964260720208852</id><published>2008-08-13T15:18:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T15:20:10.699-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Success!</title><content type='html'>B/f birthday went well.  I was a little nervous about both the restaurant and present.  But he said he loved both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was nervous about the present because they were these headphones that are supposed to isolate the music, while reducing outside noise.  And he is a major music guy, so after I bought them, I thought he probably already has what he wants, and would know more about the kind to buy.  And after I decided to get them for him b/c he mentioned he can't really listen to music on planes b/c he can't hear well b/c of the plane noise, so I thought perfect...then he said he wouldn't really like to mess with them.  But he was referring to the next upgrade in technology that blocks all sound, and has a battery.  He said the kind I bought were perfect.  Hopefully he isn't just being nice.  Anyway I gave him the gift receipt and permission to exchange/take-back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't really that nervous about the restaurant choice.  I thought we had discussed the fact that he hadn't ever been there before a long time ago, but then at the last minute, I thought maybe it was someone else I had the conversation with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to a place in Addison, the Brazilian steak house place.  He had been to a different chain in Ft. Worth, but he said he enjoyed this one much better.  I think it was due to the company :)  The service and food were both excellent.  I was glad I made reservations b/c it was crowded.  And he did get a free dessert!  He picked the cheesecake and it was delicious.  I was afraid they weren't going to do anything, but they pulled through.  They even wrapped up the wine bottle so we could take our leftover home.  He loves surprises, and I was able to pull off one at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since neither of us could move after stuffing our faces, we just finished the night watching the Olympics on his couch. I dozed off with only one apparatus left for the US.  Woke up around 11:20, and then didn't get home until midnight.  But it was worth it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I gained 2.2 pounds at dinner.  Yes, I weighed myself both before and after dinner.  So definitely going to the gym tonight.  And yes, it was still worth it.  Although might not be saying the same thing when my credit card bill comes ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-6879964260720208852?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/6879964260720208852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=6879964260720208852' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6879964260720208852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6879964260720208852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/08/success.html' title='A Success!'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-365592091068811203</id><published>2008-08-12T11:35:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T11:39:38.417-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Kicks, New Lease On Life?</title><content type='html'>I had a strange day yesterday...lots of wasted gas running errands.  At lunch, I planned to go to Lowe's to buy a gift card for a wedding this weekend.  After I drove through construction zone and lunch hour traffic, I realized that the store I was heading to was a Home Depot.  And I didn't know where Lowe's was by work.  So decided to do that later since there is a Lowe's close to the house.  But it wasn't a total loss...there was a Taco &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bueno&lt;/span&gt; on the way back :0&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way home, I decided to stop by a Luke's Locker with a recommendation from a &lt;a href="http://4andcounting.blogspot.com/"&gt;friend&lt;/a&gt;.  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mapquested&lt;/span&gt; the location, but didn't print the map.  Instead, like I do for errands (not important events), I didn't want to waste the paper printing, so I just drew myself a little map on scratch paper.  And like it happens regularly, I got lost.  I couldn't find the place.  I drove around for 30 minutes, but got to see some really nice houses in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Colleyville&lt;/span&gt;.  I was about to call and ask for directions, but the store closed at 7:00, and there wouldn't have been time to do any actual shopping.  I was frustrated, and saw my chance of doing an outside running before &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;night time&lt;/span&gt; slipping away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I was on that side of the highway, after I got to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;familiar&lt;/span&gt; landmark, I decided to go to that Lowe's and there happened to be a Kohl's across the street.  They had way more running shoes than I expected (but no knowledgeable sales people)...so it took me awhile.  I tried on about 5 pairs of shoes, and finally decided on these (I think).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.asicsamerica.com/products/product.aspx?PRODUCT_ID=240010971&amp;amp;TITLE_CATEGORY_ID=250001549"&gt;http://www.asicsamerica.com/products/product.aspx?PRODUCT_ID=240010971&amp;amp;TITLE_CATEGORY_ID=250001549&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never bought this brand of running shoes, so hopefully they fit well with my feet.  They were on sale, and I'm sure Kohl's will put them even more on sale with the no tax holiday weekend.  Oh well, I'd rather not shop in that mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rushed home, petted the cats for about 2 seconds, threw on my clothes, grabbed my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ipod&lt;/span&gt; and water bottle, and drove to the track (only .6 miles away, but I didn't  have time to dawdle..it was after 8 by this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running outside is hard!  Even in the new shoes.  I only did 2 miles (getting too dark, I was very sad :)  in about 23 minutes.  And &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sweated&lt;/span&gt; a ton.  It felt good to know the pace though.  Felt so much slower than on the treadmill, but my time was about where I expected it to be.  I didn't have the energy to bump up the speed - the treadmill makes it easier since it forces you to go that extra speed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, no blisters from the new shoes.  They were pretty comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost halfway done with my "hell month."  Tonight is b/f b-day...going to big dinner so I should eat light for lunch.   Oh was that me that just went to the vending machine to get some chips for my sandwich? I actually called and made reservations last week!  McDonald's employees act like I'm crazy when I try to do that.  They asked if it was a special occasion, so maybe we will get a free dessert!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-365592091068811203?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/365592091068811203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=365592091068811203' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/365592091068811203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/365592091068811203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-kicks-new-lease-on-life.html' title='New Kicks, New Lease On Life?'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-3244691301654371590</id><published>2008-08-10T14:30:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T14:42:03.504-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Goggles, not just for swimming anymore</title><content type='html'>I have a new marketing direction for swimming equipment manufacturers: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Speedo&lt;/span&gt; in the Kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used my swimming goggles while I cut up an onion. The last few times I have chopped that veggie, whether white or red, my eyes burned uncontrollably. So I thought if my goggles prevent water from contacting my eyes, why not fumes? And it worked perfectly! No tears! I probably wouldn't recommend it for people who have a tendency to cut themselves while chopping. The goggles give you a slightly distorted view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday: nothing, except shopping. Ann Taylor had a pretty good sale. And I finally put away all of the laundry that was piled on my bed. I can now return to sleeping in it instead of the guest bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday: mowed. Decided to rest my knee one more day. And also didn't feel like going outside to run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday: did a mini-mini-triathlon. Wanted to swim first to see if I could do the other parts of the triathlon in my wet bathing suit since I still &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt;' know for sure what I will be wearing. But the pool was packed, and I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt;' feel like waiting. So I headed upstairs in my dry bathing suit. I did 20 minutes on the bike (just slightly over the halfway mark of the distance of the race). Then got on the treadmill after a few stretches. I did my 3 miles in 33 minutes! Not bad. I ran for 1 mile, 0.8 miles and then finished strong by running the last 0.9 miles...only 0.3 of walking. And my knee felt pretty good. Now my hamstring hurts, but we won't talk about that unless the pain doesn't go away. Then headed back to the pool. While I was able to do all those activities in my suit comfortably, I smelled really bad. I think the suit sucks in the odors. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt;' know. Anyway, after a shower, I finished with 14 laps in the pool and a nice little soak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it is nap time. I'm trying to pick up some tips from watching the Olympics.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-3244691301654371590?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/3244691301654371590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=3244691301654371590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3244691301654371590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3244691301654371590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/08/googles-not-just-for-swimming-anymore.html' title='Goggles, not just for swimming anymore'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-3729437779103548340</id><published>2008-08-07T20:42:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T20:48:45.809-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch!</title><content type='html'>Tues:  Nothing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wed:  Played tennis.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sweated&lt;/span&gt; a lot.  I will not tell you how my b/f, who has only played tennis maybe 5 times in his life, came close to beating me.  I will chalk that up to my good coaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thurs:  I was 2.6 miles into my jog...feeling decently strong.  Starting to run my last .4, and then my knee felt funny.  I slowed to a walk for a minute, and then tried again.  Still there.  It was a slight pain, but not sharp.  I definitely could have worked through the pain.  But it felt like my knee was giving in when I put pressure on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I stopped early, since I was almost done anyway.  Didn't try to push it with weights, even though that didn't seem to aggravate it when I tried one or two reps.  I don't think it is anything major b/c I am able to walk on it normally.  I will ice it and hope that tomorrow is another day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday:  the PLAN is to get up super early and try to jog at the track outside.  See if outside jogging can compare to inside climate controlled exercise.   My guess is no.  Or that I won't make it out of bed before it gets to be beastly hot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-3729437779103548340?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/3729437779103548340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=3729437779103548340' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3729437779103548340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3729437779103548340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/08/ouch.html' title='Ouch!'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4623482210058070556</id><published>2008-08-04T22:02:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T22:12:40.218-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It was such a Monday today</title><content type='html'>Monday: Surprisingly, I wasn't very sore in my leg muscles from the spinning class. However, I do feel slightly bruised in a certain area that we don't need to name. If they make gender-specific seats for bicycles, why can't they make exercise bikes with different seat types?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I didn't want to, and it would mean 3 days in a row at the gym, I went tonight. Monday nights are always packed. I did 14 miles on the bike in 37 minutes (at a measly 4 out of 20 intensity setting on the bike). Then I went to the treadmill and did 2 miles in 24 minutes. I only went 0.5 miles jogging in a row, but it felt like a pretty good workout. I was able to go at 6.5 and 7.0 mph at the very end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After pigging out on two Mexican meals in about 15 hours, I think I back-slid a little on the weight loss. Oh well. I can't say that is exactly our primary objective, as the shy scientist &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Fairaday&lt;/span&gt; said on &lt;em&gt;Lost&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I was already sweaty when I got home, I put out the trash and recycling for tomorrow, and watered my little growing trees and a few shrubs who aren't looking so good.  Hopefully these 107 degree days won't last much longer.  It is a good feeling waking up and knowing that these tasks are done already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4623482210058070556?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4623482210058070556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4623482210058070556' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4623482210058070556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4623482210058070556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/08/it-was-such-monday-today.html' title='It was such a Monday today'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-2356742661316320153</id><published>2008-08-03T11:43:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T11:48:31.680-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Spinning Class Is The Debil.</title><content type='html'>I made it to the 10:00 class.  I was ready to leave by 10:05.  Everyone else stayed for the hour, I left at a little after 10:30.   Satan, I mean the instructor, was actually very nice.  I was the only "first-timer" so he helped me adjust my seat height, and sat next to me for a few minutes to show me proper form.   But I had to sit A LOT when everyone else was standing doing the hill climb thing.  He said I was doing a good job, but I hear the devil lies.   I felt a little sick afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't imagine I will return to the class.  But who knows.  Maybe, like childbirth, I will forget the pain and think it is something I will want to do again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swam for 16 laps, mostly backstroke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rewarded myself with a Sonic cherry slush.  It is summer after all, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-2356742661316320153?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/2356742661316320153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=2356742661316320153' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2356742661316320153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2356742661316320153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/08/spinning-class-is-debil.html' title='Spinning Class Is The Debil.'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-3625091037698692110</id><published>2008-08-03T11:31:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T11:43:18.709-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gratuitous Cat Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SJXr7yv5zWI/AAAAAAAAAG0/vh4gaNIvXVQ/s1600-h/Bobby+Laundry.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230345954728201570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SJXr7yv5zWI/AAAAAAAAAG0/vh4gaNIvXVQ/s320/Bobby+Laundry.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember putting him in the dryer! This is why I need to fold my laundry immediately. So next time you see cat hairs on my clothes, you will understand a little more about my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SJXsWrqqyuI/AAAAAAAAAG8/ZRm-JK-_rKA/s1600-h/The+latest+fashion.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230346416683666146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SJXsWrqqyuI/AAAAAAAAAG8/ZRm-JK-_rKA/s320/The+latest+fashion.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And next on the runway is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Tigger&lt;/span&gt;, sporting a 100% pure plastic Target bag halter dress. I don't understand cats' fascination with bags, but it is very pervasive and annoying. He gets it caught around his neck, and then it gets caught on his collar. And he freaks out a little. Speaking of freaks, check out his possessed eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SJXuGc-uiAI/AAAAAAAAAHM/1-lCGsNMusU/s1600-h/Cat+Harmony.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230348336886614018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SJXuGc-uiAI/AAAAAAAAAHM/1-lCGsNMusU/s320/Cat+Harmony.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite all the growling and hissing and scratching, occasionally there is some harmony in the house. Enjoy the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;peace&lt;/span&gt; while it lasts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-3625091037698692110?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/3625091037698692110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=3625091037698692110' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3625091037698692110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3625091037698692110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/08/gratuitous-cat-pictures.html' title='Gratuitous Cat Pictures'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SJXr7yv5zWI/AAAAAAAAAG0/vh4gaNIvXVQ/s72-c/Bobby+Laundry.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-3123666469311371903</id><published>2008-08-02T19:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T19:17:46.076-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Foiled Again (but I'm not really sad about it)</title><content type='html'>Thursday:  No workout.  Had some digestive issues that morning and didn't want to find out at the gym that it hadn't gone away.  That was my lame excuse anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday:  No workout.  Made a lovely dinner for b/f and a nice relaxing evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday:  I keep forgetting about the early closing hours on weekend evenings.  I planned to both jog and swim, but ended up only running, with a few weights thrown in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually had a pretty good run today.  3 miles in 34 min and 45 seconds, 2 minutes less than last time!  Apparently, if I walk less of the distance, my time improves.  I must remember that.  I did 1.25 miles jogging, walked .15, jogged 1.01 (yes, the .01 is a big deal), walked .2, and then finished jogging for .6 miles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may have found a secret to my success.  I downloaded 2 short &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;podcasts&lt;/span&gt;, one was a news piece from &lt;em&gt;Onion&lt;/em&gt; radio (who knew that existed), and the other was a &lt;em&gt;This American Life&lt;/em&gt; story from NPR.  While listening to these, my first half mile flew by.  Maybe it was because it was my first half mile and I am getting in a little better shape, but it seemed to distract me more than the music usually does.  I wish I had more of them downloaded for this jog.  Maybe next time.  I hope I can wear my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;iPod&lt;/span&gt; in the race.  I don't see why not.  I'm guessing it is not a good idea on the bike portion, but hopefully it will be a legal distraction during the running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's another thing to add to my to-do list...create my race day &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;playlist&lt;/span&gt;!  Fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-3123666469311371903?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/3123666469311371903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=3123666469311371903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3123666469311371903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3123666469311371903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/08/foiled-again-but-im-not-really-sad.html' title='Foiled Again (but I&apos;m not really sad about it)'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-7591117946163735036</id><published>2008-07-31T13:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T13:25:13.595-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy month: update</title><content type='html'>Let's throw in a business trip for fun!  Watch her juggle all the balls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to go on a 2, possibly 3,  night trip!  Yippee!  I guess I may actually have to bring workout clothes on a business trip.  The hotel we usually stay at has a gym. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And guess what?  It is the week before the triathlon, and the day I get back is the day I need to pick up my registration packet.  I sure hope my plane isn't delayed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-7591117946163735036?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/7591117946163735036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=7591117946163735036' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7591117946163735036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7591117946163735036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/busy-month-update.html' title='Busy month: update'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-6839535413089989594</id><published>2008-07-31T07:51:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T07:58:47.513-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Late Night</title><content type='html'>Wednesday:  Due to the storms, and me wanting to eat properly and digest my food even more properly, and a nap, and some bills that needed to be paid, and 2 recipes that needed to be found online so I could go grocery shopping tonight, I did not get to the gym until after 9.  So I knew it wouldn't be a marathon workout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I did do 3 miles on the treadmill in 37 minutes (1 minute less than last time I did 3 miles).  While I never ran more than 1 mile consecutively, I did feel good about the workout because I had 3 long stretches of running, instead of breaking it up more.  I ran 1.0 miles, then walked 0.15, then jogged 0.85, walked 0.4 and then jogged 0.6.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is so hot in there, even though I was under the fan.  I felt a little sick afterwards, so I tried to cool down more than usual.  Then I did lift weights for a little while.  Anyway, I didn't get home until Dave Letterman came on.  After a little snack, and more cooling down and relaxing time, I didn't get out of the shower until 11:30.  I didn't bother drying my hair, which resulted in major bedhead this morning.  I was running late so I didn't have time to wash my hair and start over.  Which resulted in me wearing a headband today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-6839535413089989594?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/6839535413089989594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=6839535413089989594' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6839535413089989594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6839535413089989594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/late-night.html' title='Late Night'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-2839694846856136403</id><published>2008-07-27T11:36:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T12:08:33.579-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I chickened out...but it wasn't all my fault!</title><content type='html'>Saturday:  Just did the treadmill and some weights.  I didn't even make one mile without stopping.  But did 2 miles in about 25 minutes, mostly running.  Didn't want to tire myself out so that I could pig out Saturday night at dinner with old friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday:  Today was supposed to be the day of me taking my first group class at the gym.  I decided I wanted to try "coached cycling" which I assumed was like the spinning class I've heard about.  The sign on the wall said the class was at 10 and at 10:30 in the bike room.  I planned to go to the 10:00 class, but the snooze button just kept getting pressed and then my brother called, so of course I had to talk to him.  Anyway, I got there in plenty of time for the 10:30 class.  The classroom has one wall of windows, so I could see the 10:00 class was still going on (and boy were they sweaty).  So I did a few crunches while I was waiting.  Well, 10:30 came and went.  I was waiting for the class to let out and they never did.  About 10:35, a guy walked by and then entered the class, and joined in.   There were only a few empty bikes.  Well, I didn't feel like walking in during the middle of class, so I didn't.  I guess there is one hour long class, and then you can join in at the halfway mark if you want.  Seems weird to me.  I will try again next week, and show up at 10.  Then that means I have to be there for an hour!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, since I had my padded bike shorts on, I got on the stationary bike not in the classroom.  I did 12 miles in a little over 30 minutes.  After cooling down a bit, I went to the pool and did 14 laps!  Pretty good for me.  I think I swam every stroke there is, plus a few that I made up struggling just to get to the end of the pool.  Finished with a hot tub soak.  I realized it doesn't matter if I pee 2 minutes before the hot tub, I will still get the sensation that I need to go again.  But it usually goes away after the first few minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***NEW SUBJECT.  I consider August 1st the day I really need to get in gear with the whole triathlon workout thing.  In my head, i thought that I would be able to do all of the events individually without stopping by now.  Then I would use the three weeks in August to really work on my conditioning to be able to do the multiple events in one day.  Well, I can't do the swimming without stopping, and I sure can't do the 3 mile jog without stopping.  The biking is a maybe - I can do it indoors, not sure about outside with hills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incidentally, August is the busiest single month for my at work.  I have two major reports that I work at this time of year.  I usually work about an hour late on most days and few hours on the weekend to make the process smooth.  The guy that was hired to help me out is going to be gone for two weeks in August.  He asked my boss if he could take the time out, and he said yes without checking with me.  I don't begrudge him the time he will be spending in Europe - just because he's 23 and has been several times, and I haven't been at all.  I just wish someone could have checked with me.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Anywhoo&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as the fates would have it, August is shaping up to be the busiest social month of the year for some reason.  I have at least one (many times 3) event to go to each weekend.  I know people with kids and more friends with me do this every month, but not me!  This is from my memory, so I may be leaving something out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Boyfriend's birthday, I already have something planned, I just need to figure out what day to do it on.  Hoping to buy the present today.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Good friend's 30&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday - I really hope I can get together sometime to celebrate with her (she lives out of town).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Co-worker/friend's wedding, which entails:  shower, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bach&lt;/span&gt; party, and Friday night wedding (on previous friend's actual birthday)  on 3 consecutive weekends...may bow out of the shower.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Niece's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bday&lt;/span&gt; - need to get a present...have no idea what to get&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My brother and his gang are coming one weekend to hang out and go to Six Flags before school starts.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My regular book club meeting&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;BBQ for another good friend who is coming in town from California&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Party barge lake party thing (this is actually the weekend after the triathlon)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Baby shower (also weekend after triathlon).  Hope to buy the present today (Sorry if you are reading this...I won't post I what I buy ;)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;How am I supposed to work out 6 days a week with all this going on and still keep my boyfriend and keep my clients happy?  I told b/f he would just have to bear with me during August (except for his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;bday&lt;/span&gt;, I will give up all for him on that day), like he told me during the hockey playoffs.   I guess less TV for me, although &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;MadMen&lt;/span&gt; starts tonight, and I will be watching that every week, even if it means shortening my work out. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-2839694846856136403?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/2839694846856136403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=2839694846856136403' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2839694846856136403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2839694846856136403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-chickened-outbut-it-wasnt-all-my.html' title='I chickened out...but it wasn&apos;t all my fault!'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4970654499041187068</id><published>2008-07-25T08:01:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T11:36:21.094-06:00</updated><title type='text'>No good stories today</title><content type='html'>Thursday: 14 miles on the bike (not treadmill, sorry) which was very boring! Then about a mile on the treadmill. Didn't lose any more weight, even with the haircut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My lower back is always very sore/tired/tense after I do my workouts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I leave work early today, then I will go swim. Otherwise, no workout for Friday, and I'm ok with that. And you're ok. In fact, we are all ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4970654499041187068?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4970654499041187068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4970654499041187068' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4970654499041187068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4970654499041187068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/no-good-stories-today.html' title='No good stories today'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-8579624097121429012</id><published>2008-07-23T22:00:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T22:06:04.650-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Decent workout</title><content type='html'>Wednesday:  I finally made it back to the gym.  Started off pretty strong on the treadmill.  Did my first mile in a little over 10 minutes.  Then got a sharp pain in my side, and tried to walk it out.  Ended up doing 3 miles in 38 minutes.  Some walking but finished strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did a few reps on the leg weights machine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Headed to the pool.  I bought a watch so I could more accurately gauge my swimming time.  A little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;disappointing&lt;/span&gt;.  Did the 12 laps in 14 minutes.  I have to improve on swimming.  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt;' know if the race is conducive to being able to rest between laps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then did 10 minutes in the hot tub.  I made sure and tinkled before the swimming workout, but still as soon as I hit the hot water, the urge presented itself.  Using mind over matter, I was able to have a somewhat relaxing time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avoided the urge to stop at Taco Bell on the way home.  Don't know if I did much better by eating about a gallon of home made popcorn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-8579624097121429012?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/8579624097121429012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=8579624097121429012' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8579624097121429012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8579624097121429012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/decent-workout.html' title='Decent workout'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4007018113826204333</id><published>2008-07-23T08:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T08:51:04.056-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Laziness Runs Rampant At Local House!  And To Install Or Not To Install? (Bonus Post)</title><content type='html'>Monday &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;AND&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Tuesday - no workout.  I am super lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I have nothing to say about that, I have a house dilemma to discuss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my front door.  It is my favorite upgrade.  Maybe I have mentioned, maybe I haven't.  But the love is there.  It is dark and wooden, and has a design in it. For some reason, I don't have a picture of it.  And I know it is just not me.  Several people have commented on it.  How it makes the house complete, it is beautiful from the street, etc.  And the door has two sides, so I can enjoy its beauty from the inside as well.  Now I know how proud parents must feel for their offspring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been toying with the idea of putting in a glass storm door in the front.  The reasons are two-fold.  During the day when I am at home, I could open the wood door, and let more sun into the living room.  The cats would love to look out into the world from another vantage point.  Maybe it is because I grew up with the front door open, and I just like the welcoming feel to it...not sure.  But I like the idea.  Also, I think there is some airflow happening around the door.  When it is windy, there is a loud, howling noise.  I know some of it comes from the shape of the porch and roof.  But I think some comes from a draft under the door.  Maybe a storm door would limit that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the dilemma part.  A storm door would interfere with the natural beauty and elegance of the wood door.  Sure, it is mostly glass, but there is a frame around it, and the glass causes a reflection, so you can't see the door in some angles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, it is not an exactly easy install.  My parents were in town this weekend, so we went to check it out.  My beautiful door is not a standard size, apparently.  The storm door is much smaller than the entrance it needs to fit.  So my dad would have to fill in some extra space.  It can be done - my neighbor got one installed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition, storm doors come in only 5 colors, none of which look particularly good with my trim or door color.  So we would have to match the color and paint it.  But my dad says he can do all of that...he just needs to bring the right tools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do you think?  I'm leaning towards doing it since I spend most of my time indoors.  My friend is against because she is an even bigger fan of the door.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4007018113826204333?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4007018113826204333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4007018113826204333' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4007018113826204333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4007018113826204333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/laziness-runs-rampant-at-local-house.html' title='Laziness Runs Rampant At Local House!  And To Install Or Not To Install? (Bonus Post)'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-3992257847899064397</id><published>2008-07-20T21:07:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T21:26:36.804-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Closing Time</title><content type='html'>Friday &amp;amp; Saturday:  Big fat nothing for a work out.  But I did eat a Sonic hamburger, fries and Dr. Pepper for lunch for Friday, since I had been pretty good all week.   I didn't get cheese because I am on a strict &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;regimen&lt;/span&gt;. I followed that up with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;chipotle&lt;/span&gt; fajitas at a new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mexican&lt;/span&gt; place we tried Friday night.  It is a keeper!  Their salsa is full of cilantro, which I must say is very tasty.  Neither of my parents or my boyfriend are a fan of cilantro.  I love it!  They are obviously insane.  Saturday and Sunday were full of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bbq&lt;/span&gt; beef, beans, potato chips, beer, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;broc&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; cauliflower salad, and brownies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday:  The song "Closing Time" was playing on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;iPod&lt;/span&gt; as they announced that they gym was closing.  I had forgotten that 24 hour fitness gym closed at 8pm on Sunday nights.  Perhaps it is the name of the gym that made me forget.  Because I actually had to do some work work today and I didn't want to go workout, I didn't make it there until a little after 7.  I had planned to do some part of a work out on all three legs of my triathlon.  So I jumped on the bike.  I wanted to do a good 30 minutes.  I had almost reached the time when I heard they were announcing something over the speaker.  I assumed they were saying the babysitting service was closing at 8.  But then I had a sneaking suspicion that I recalled someone at sometime saying that the gym closed early on Sundays.  While I wasn't done with my 30 minutes, I was approaching 10 miles, a good round number.  So I quickly got to that mile marker, jumped off and went to the treadmill.  I knew swimming was out because I only had less than twenty minutes.  What with the costume change the shower, that just wouldn't allow me to work up a good sweat.  So onto the endless road machine.  I didn't want to be a bad guest and wait until 8 to finish my workout and then head to the locker room and then mosey out.  I wanted to be in my car by 8.  Tthat meant if I really wanted to get a mile in, I would have to go fast, and no walking.  So I started off strong at 5mph and kept shifting up.  With the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;announcements&lt;/span&gt; coming fast and furious every 5 minutes, I did my fastest mile time so far - 10 min 20 secs.  I had to increase to 7mph for the last .10 to do it, but I accomplished my altered goal with a few minutes to spare.  I didn't give myself adequate cool down time so I felt kinda yucky...but the knowledge that I could go harder if I was motivated felt good.  Goodnight...I'm sure I will sleep good tonight.  The beer and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Tylenol&lt;/span&gt; Nighttime (my knee has been hurting a little) will hopefully insure that :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Useless footnote:  I tend to start a lot of sentences with "So..."  I have already cleaned out a few, but there are plently more left.  It is hard for me to tell a story without "so then...".  Will try to improve.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-3992257847899064397?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/3992257847899064397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=3992257847899064397' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3992257847899064397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3992257847899064397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/closing-time.html' title='Closing Time'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-5033863025009174640</id><published>2008-07-18T09:18:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T09:23:49.720-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why didn't I pee before working out?</title><content type='html'>Wednesday: I didn't feel well again, so I skipped the workout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday: Yoga class at lunch. This is a cool thing at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a so-so workout Thursday evening. I started out on the ole treadmill. I could only do a&lt;br /&gt;little over a mile before needing a break. Did a total of 2.6 miles in 30 minutes or so. Had to take walking breaks often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I did some weights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went to the pool. I did the 12 laps, all free style strokes. But it took me 18-20 minutes. And I could only do 2 without breaking. For some reason I kept getting water in my nose. I may have to buy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nose plugs&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I headed to the pool, I felt the slight need to pee. But decided it would go away. And it kind of did...didn't notice it during the workout. But as soon as I got in the hot tub, the sensation returned. The ability to relax in a hot tub is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;inversely&lt;/span&gt; related to the fullness of your bladder. Don't worry...I didn't let loose in the hot tub. After soaking for about 10 minutes, I got up to leave. Do you remember as a child how hard it was to go to the bathroom in a wet one-piece suit? Well, it is still as difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-5033863025009174640?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/5033863025009174640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=5033863025009174640' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5033863025009174640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5033863025009174640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/why-didnt-i-pee-before-working-out.html' title='Why didn&apos;t I pee before working out?'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-2506327026896572573</id><published>2008-07-16T09:59:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T10:20:15.103-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Another Workout Blog Movie</title><content type='html'>Cynic: A person whose outlook is scornfully negative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is me lately. And it is related to my job. Or more to the point, the people on my team. Or certain people on my team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, I work in a team that is lead by someone who is, shall we say flexible on the issues of attendance and work hours. The general philosophy I am fine with…as long as the work gets done, and the clients are happy, then why do we need to be here the entire 40 hours out of the week?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, in practice, this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t work as smoothly as some would like. Because while it is nice to have the flex time when emergencies come up or whatever, it tends to get quickly abused. The “my kid is sick and I need to run him to the doctor” excuse quickly becomes the “I need to go get my oil changed, so I will be gone for the rest of the afternoon (leaving at three hours early)”. Yes, most places are open on Saturdays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other reason I don’t like how things have progressed is that since a person is not in the office until closing time, they don’t see the work not getting done. Because someone else on the team has to do the work. Phone calls get forwarded to whoever IS there, even if it’s not strictly their project. Emails get forwarded; people looking for you come to whoever they can find. But since we do work in a team environment, it is generally expected that you will have to cover for someone at some point. But it seems that it happens very regularly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 7 people on my team. I would say there has not been a full week in an entire year where every person on the team worked all 5 days, for the full day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hey, our team is doing pretty well. We are one of the top three sales teams. So who cares if we don’t have to put in as much effort as everyone else does? The point is we could probably sell twice as much if people put in a full effort. We probably &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wouldn&lt;/span&gt;’t have had to hire a new person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the real reason I am writing this is because I don’t like who I have become as a result of this. People on the team have been giving lame excuses for so long, that now that they have serious family issues and probably legitimate reasons for missing work, I don’t give a flying flip. It is like the little boy that cried wolf. I mean it has gotten so bad that another woman in the office was actually crying about one of my team member’s trials right now, and I barely give it another thought. Each day I listen to her news, but it is not really affecting me. Sure, I feel bad that she is going through all of this, but I do not have real empathy for her anymore. She will be off for a few days because of the emotional trauma. And each day that I hear she is gone, my first reaction, is, of course. And so far her being gone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hasn&lt;/span&gt;’t impacted my work load. So imagine if I did have to lay a finger for her. My blood would start boiling I’m sure. And she’s definitely not the worst offender. That’s what makes it bad…she really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hadn&lt;/span&gt;’t had any bad reasons for missing work in the past. But it is my cynical viewpoint that casts a black cloud over everyone now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My attitude about actually doing work has also been bad. In my head, I say, well I’m here everyday, all day. So I can justify goofing off too much. At least I’m available to take calls or answer emails. I know that is not right either, but that’s where I’m at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s about it. I could go into more detail, but it is their private lives, and it won’t do any good. But I guarantee it would make you wonder how these people keep their jobs. I just need to vent. And don’t suggest I go to my boss, b/c he set the tone for the whole team and he is the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hope no one at work knows about my blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-2506327026896572573?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/2506327026896572573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=2506327026896572573' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2506327026896572573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2506327026896572573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/not-another-workout-blog-movie.html' title='Not Another Workout Blog Movie'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-2053804730068943059</id><published>2008-07-16T08:01:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T08:03:20.042-06:00</updated><title type='text'>When does this get fun?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Monday workout: Nothing. I feel asleep about 7 pm and didn't do anything. :( That is a typical night for me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tuesday workout: Even though I took a nap after work, and even though it was stormy, I went to the gym last night. I did 5 minutes on the stair climber thing. I didn't intend to do it, but I got a little turned around in the gym, and didn't want to look like I didn't know where I was going, so I did that torture machine for a few minutes. If you need a warm up, that will get your heart pumping. I'm pretty surprised that I'm not sore in my booty today. But my knee does hurt, so I think I will stay away from that thing again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I proceeded to the bikes, where I was intending to go in the first place. I planned to do 45 minutes, which would be well over the 14 mile mark. But I did the random program, and the hills were much more challenging than I expected. So I decided to stop after 30 minutes and 11 miles. Because I wanted to do some running, too. Or that was my excuse anyway. Sweat was literally dripping off of me onto the floor. Gross. Did I tell you they keep it pretty hot in there, and by the bikes there aren't any fans.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then I headed to the treadmill. My legs weren't too shaky. Maybe the weight lifting is helping some. I did a full mile run in 12 minutes...I could have possibly done more, but stopped because it was getting pretty late already.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This triathlon is going to be a bit of a pain in other ways. I have to go pick up the registration packet before the event, and none of the locations are super convenient for me. And then I have to take my bike and helmet into a shop to make sure it is safe. I didn't know about all this. That is another thing. I need to decide what bike I'm riding. I have a trail bike I could use, but the course is on country roads. So a road bike would be more efficient, which means less work on my legs. That sounds pretty good to me. So I may be in the market for a new or gently used bike. As I said before, hobbies are expensive. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-2053804730068943059?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/2053804730068943059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=2053804730068943059' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2053804730068943059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2053804730068943059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/when-does-this-get-fun.html' title='When does this get fun?'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-8616016718460961433</id><published>2008-07-13T15:09:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T15:13:38.356-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why does swimming bring out the snot in your nose?</title><content type='html'>Saturday workout:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.9 miles on the treadmill, almost 40 minutes...warmup...1 mile jogging/running...walking...1/2 mile jogging...walking...then about another 1/2 mile jogging/sprinting.  Felt &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, but I was definitely ready for the rest after the first mile.  There was no way I could have done 2 miles in a row today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did some weights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 laps in the pool, 4 without really resting!  I did them all in about 15 minutes.  Not too bad, although my form was pretty bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 minutes in the hot tub.  Nice!  Do you call it a hot tub, whirlpool, or sauna?  It is the big bathtub with bubbles.  I've heard people call it all three.  But isn't the sauna the steam room?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday workout:  Big fat nothing.  Unless shopping at Target counts.  The day is not over, but I'm not getting my hopes up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-8616016718460961433?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/8616016718460961433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=8616016718460961433' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8616016718460961433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8616016718460961433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/why-does-swimming-bring-out-snot-in.html' title='Why does swimming bring out the snot in your nose?'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-6419339221748884275</id><published>2008-07-10T17:05:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T17:07:12.579-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Agony And The Ecstasy</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Even though it is out of time sequence, I will start with the good.  Because I’m positive like that.  I jogged for 2 miles without stopping on Tuesday night on the treadmill (about 26 minutes)!  I have not been able to do that in a long time, and can probably count the times I have done it in my life one 3 fingers.  After the first several minutes, it felt pretty good.  I could have gone on a little longer, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t want to do too much.  Apparently the session with the trainer was a motivation, but not in the good way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here’s the rest of the story, as Paul Harvey would say.    I met with my trainer for my fitness evaluation.  He was all of 12.  He asked me my goals, and what I had been doing, and how tall I was, and my eating habits.  Then he did the weigh in…I had gained a pound since the day before L  But whatever, that’s not my primary focus, up until this point. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he proceeded to measure me in all sorts of locations with a tap measure, and then used the little pincer thing to measure my body fat.  And here’s the kicker.  He said I had 33% body fat, which was way over the unhealthy range.  I figured I would be about 24%, right on the edge of healthy and unhealthy.  I definitely knew I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t in the athlete portion, as much as that hurt my ego.  But the scale only went up to 32% + and I was 33%.  I was the “and up” range!  I seriously hope he did it wrong.  He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t act very confident with the whole process.  So being called fat in the nicest, chart-topping way motivated me to run 2 miles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, since he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t seem alarmed at my body fat % and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t really focus on getting me immediately on a diet and exercise &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;regimen&lt;/span&gt;, I’m assuming he was just a little uninformed on this section.  But he gave some advice on eating…eat 7 small meals a day.  And the week of the race to start &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;carb&lt;/span&gt;-loading (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;IHOP&lt;/span&gt;, anyone?).  He also said the day of the race to eat as much &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;carbs&lt;/span&gt; as I could.  I told him it was at 7 am.  He said well, then get up at 5 and eat pancakes.  I can’t imagine eating that early, and eating that much before exercising. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday was happy hour after work, so I ate not good and exercised not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, about to go play tennis with b/f.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Friday is book club, so I doubt I'll exercise.  I guess I could make use of the 24 hour aspect of the gym, but let's not get carried away.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-6419339221748884275?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/6419339221748884275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=6419339221748884275' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6419339221748884275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6419339221748884275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/agony-and-ecstasy.html' title='The Agony And The Ecstasy'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-1060117527196617566</id><published>2008-07-07T21:11:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T07:54:09.807-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mylanta</title><content type='html'>Sunday - no work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am now a 3-month member of gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday - disappointing. I did 12 laps in the pool again - about 20 minutes, 2 laps without stopping. That part was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;. Still way out of breath. I can't get the whole breathing thing down. But maybe making progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my plan was to try to jog/walk for 3 miles. Then I was going to just do a light walk/jog because I kinda felt weird after the swim. Started off poorly as I had to run in no socks. My water bottle spilled, and my socks were soaking (2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; time, you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;would&lt;/span&gt; think I would learn). But after the initial jelly feeling in my legs, I was actually feeling good. I started jogging, and felt like I could make it past my usual 1 mile mark without stopping. I made it to around 3/4 mile distance when I got horrible heart burn. I'm sure it had nothing to do with the half can of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;pringles&lt;/span&gt; I ate an hour before working out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have yet to figure out the eating schedule. There is no way I could make it straight from work, to working out, and then come home and eat dinner. So I had some soup before I left work, and then I just couldn't pass up watching Jeopardy, and then the open can of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pringles&lt;/span&gt; was calling me. Really the only option for me is to exercise in the morning. That would mean getting up around 5. A. M. That is eons before my usual 6:45 wake up call. I just don't know about that. Maybe I will give it a try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so instead of pushing, I decided to call it a workout. Still better than no work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I forgot to tell you. I went all out. I bought a new 1 piece suit, goggles, and the head cap. I feel, if not look, like a professional swimmer now. Save for the masculine shoulders. And 0.2% body fat. This is the first pair of goggles that actually work. Imagine, no water coming in to my eyes. It's great. I can wear my contacts and not have to worry about taking them in and out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I signed up for the free health inspection/orientation. So I'm meeting with a personal trainer tomorrow night. Maybe he'll find something wrong with me, and I can back out of this gracefully. Nothing too bad, just like an abnormal muscular displacement of the 3rd lower vertebrae &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Cartesian&lt;/span&gt; planes in S&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;pain&lt;/span&gt;, which in everyday jive means no triathlon. A girl can hope!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-1060117527196617566?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/1060117527196617566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=1060117527196617566' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1060117527196617566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1060117527196617566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/mylanta.html' title='Mylanta'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-7437160769367801348</id><published>2008-07-05T20:19:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T20:19:49.873-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A long workout</title><content type='html'>300 yd swim, wi th lots of breaks...2 laps without stopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13 mile bike&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.5 mile jog&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-7437160769367801348?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/7437160769367801348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=7437160769367801348' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7437160769367801348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7437160769367801348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/long-workout.html' title='A long workout'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4438651984160272895</id><published>2008-07-04T18:35:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T18:43:10.981-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Splish, splash, I was out of breath</title><content type='html'>Today's workout (for my personal record, not for your entertainment, unless you find the lack of progress as funny as I do):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Location:  the gym&lt;br /&gt;Time:  afternoon&lt;br /&gt;1) Treadmill:  total of 2 miles [1.01 miles without stopping, average speed 5.2 mph for that mile, excuse me, 1.01 mile].  Man, the gym felt hot today.&lt;br /&gt;2) Weird torture machine:  a few sets of crunches&lt;br /&gt;3)  Lap pool:  total of 8 laps (25 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;yds&lt;/span&gt; each, 200 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;yds&lt;/span&gt;), 2 laps without stopping.  Man, this was much harder than I thought.  The last "lap" was pathetic.  There were old, fat men who were swimming before I got there, swam the whole time I was swimming, plus my 10 minutes in the spa, and they didn't even rest at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted I could have speed up the process a little, and if I had swam first, I could have eliminated 1 shower, but it took like 1.5 hours to do all this.  Who has the time for this?  I do...only on the weekends.   I don't see making this a regular part of my routine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4438651984160272895?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4438651984160272895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4438651984160272895' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4438651984160272895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4438651984160272895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/splish-splash-i-was-out-of-breath.html' title='Splish, splash, I was out of breath'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-6310741996996908031</id><published>2008-07-03T12:47:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T12:57:04.994-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My healthy ego has got me into trouble again</title><content type='html'>Believing the theory that it's not really true until I blog about it, I've delayed typing this post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must have been drunk when I agreed to it.  I know I was on vacation, so maybe my feet were in the sand, and my head in the clouds.  But I said yes.  I even registered.  It's official.  I'm signed up to do a triathlon in less than 2 months.  Sure, its a "mini" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;triathlon&lt;/span&gt;.  That just means you are supposed to do it faster.  I want to quit already and I'm only in training...if you call not doing anything for the past, oh 3-4 days training.  At least it has got me to exercise more than I had been.  Cue "The Life Of Brian"'s "Look On The Bright Side Of Life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The plan is to swim 300 yards, bike 14 miles, and then jog 2.9 miles.  Each part is the hardest part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think maybe, just maybe I could work up to 2.9 miles.  I'm only at 1 now without stopping.  And maybe I could bike 14 miles...7 of which will be coasting.  The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wild card&lt;/span&gt; is the swim.  I have never ever swam in a real race, or even in a class or anything.  After a futile attempt of swimming laps at the public pool on a Sunday evening, I decided to join a gym for the summer.  At least now maybe I will know what I'm in for.  I'm going today or tomorrow to check out the week-free trial at 24 Hour Fitness, which is not open 24 hours on the weekend, surprisingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I don't post much anymore, its because my arms will no longer be able to lift up to the keyboard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-6310741996996908031?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/6310741996996908031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=6310741996996908031' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6310741996996908031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6310741996996908031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-healthy-ego-has-got-me-into-trouble.html' title='My healthy ego has got me into trouble again'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-3444376381832778023</id><published>2008-06-30T08:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T08:54:37.280-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, You know who you are!</title><content type='html'>Special shoutout to my good friend who is turning 30 today!  I was nice enough to do it first to make sure it was safe, like the royal food taster.  I'm still alive! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss having you in the same state, but hopefully I will see you soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy your day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-3444376381832778023?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/3444376381832778023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=3444376381832778023' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3444376381832778023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3444376381832778023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/06/happy-birthday-you-know-who-you-are.html' title='Happy Birthday, You know who you are!'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-2424413227928790015</id><published>2008-06-27T08:30:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T11:05:58.270-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's My Turn!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I got tagged me for a meme. At least you get something new to read, right? Right?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A. Attached or Single? Only emotionally, not physically. And not a permanent, legally binding attachment. Just more of a Friday and Saturday night, occasional weekday type arrangement.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;B. Best Friend? Not sure, haven't really sorted my friends since middle school. I have good friends I talk to on a regular basis, and some good friends that I don't to very often.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;C. Cake or pie? Yes. Probably cake, with warm chocolate and whipped cream on top.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;D. Day of choice? Probably Saturday. Full day of no commitments.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;E. Essential item? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;DVR&lt;/span&gt;. I can now watch Jeopardy every week day, not just on the occasional vacation day. It has changed my life.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;F. Favorite color? blue&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;G. Gummy bears or worms? Bears, but no real preference. Not a big consumer.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;H. Home town? Grew up in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Longview&lt;/span&gt;, TX.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I. Favorite indulgence? Eating a pint of ice cream, when you know you should get a bowl, but you think you have the will power to only eat a few bites, but before you know it, the whole thing is gone. Don't tell me I'm the only one? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;J. January or July? Eh, both not good. July I guess. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;K. Kids? ( I just noticed the letters coincide with the first letter of the question. Yea for being observant.) Unsure. I just checked. Nope. Don't have any.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;L. Life &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;isn&lt;/span&gt;’t complete without? good food, good people to be with, and sunny days.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;M. Marriage date? Yes, I brought a date to the last marriage I went to.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;N. Number of brothers and sisters? 903-759 - oh, you don't mean phone #. 3.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;O. Oranges or Apples? I eat apples more regularly, but I love oranges.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;P. Phobias? Having my arms tied up, like a straight jacket or being tucked in too tight. And being buried alive. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Q. Quotes? I'm not good about remembering quotes. Probably lately, "that's what she said"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;R. Reasons to smile? funny stuff. And I have a job. And I've been carpooling! So gas prices haven't really affected me yet.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;S. Season of choice? Spring.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;T. Tag 5 people: probably not.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;U. Unknown fact about me? I used to think that real tornadoes would come when you swirled around the "tornado in a jar" science project.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;V. Vegetable? summer squash and zucchini medley&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;W. Worst habbit?  Lately, it's been falling asleep on the couch in the evenings and waking up about 1:30 am to go to bed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;X. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Xray&lt;/span&gt; or Ultrasound? I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;don&lt;/span&gt;'t get this question. Which superpower would I rather have? I guess it would depend on the reason. I'll let my doctor make the call.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Y. Your favorite food? chicken fried chicken, mashed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;tators&lt;/span&gt;, cream gravy, homemade rolls&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Z. Zodiac sign? Aries&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-2424413227928790015?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/2424413227928790015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=2424413227928790015' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2424413227928790015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2424413227928790015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/06/its-my-turn.html' title='It&apos;s My Turn!'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-8322577699789146138</id><published>2008-06-16T20:49:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T20:52:11.352-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Kahuna at Big Kahuna</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SFcmsQ3HbUI/AAAAAAAAAGs/fbeG6RFws08/s1600-h/P6110151.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212677635586878786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SFcmsQ3HbUI/AAAAAAAAAGs/fbeG6RFws08/s320/P6110151.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SFcmdN6uZRI/AAAAAAAAAGk/djhCwi02n3w/s1600-h/P6110151.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is my nephew after a long day at the Big Kahuna water park in Destin. That swimsuit outfit was my birthday present to him. I love how kids can sleep anywhere in any position on anyone's lap and not even know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-8322577699789146138?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/8322577699789146138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=8322577699789146138' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8322577699789146138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8322577699789146138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/06/little-kahuna-at-big-kahuna.html' title='Little Kahuna at Big Kahuna'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SFcmsQ3HbUI/AAAAAAAAAGs/fbeG6RFws08/s72-c/P6110151.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4147732201242406885</id><published>2008-06-13T12:21:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T12:32:12.898-06:00</updated><title type='text'>No longer at the kids table, but still stuck on the pullout sofa bed in the living room</title><content type='html'>Guess where I am right now?  If you guessed on the road in Louisiana, you'd be right!  This state doesn't seem that big on a map, but it covers quite a bit of this road trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we are heading home after a successful trip.  My brother did get married, after 2 different location changes.  The original spot was having stormy weather, so they changed it to the private hotel beach in town.  They hurriedly set up the little alter thing and the chairs, and the bride was about to walk down to the beach when the storm caught up with us.  So everyone quickly grabbed some chairs and ran into the hotel lobby.  They ended up performing the ceremony in the atrium of the hotel, which was actually quite pretty.  It had a fountain and lots of greenery.  The only drawback was it was noisy, so we couldn't actually hear much of the vows and stuff.  But they did get to go back to the beach and take pictures.  So I now have another sister and a new niece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beach was beautiful and the house was great.  More so on this vacation than others I really felt like a 3rd wheel (or the 19&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; wheel on a semi?).  It is difficult being a single adult when everyone around you is married and/or has kids.  The younger kids don't really understand that you can be an adult and not married.  They either think that you are a teenager, or wonder what is wrong that you aren't married.  Maybe it was because I actually have a b/f now and I was missing him, and trying to picture him on the trip with me that I was feeling a bit left out.  Who knows.   My "bedroom" on this trip was the living room, and I slept on the pullout couch.  Which meant that I was awake until the last person went to bed, and I was awakened with whoever made the first pot of coffee (or more accurately whenever the baby woke up for his first &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sippy&lt;/span&gt; cup of milk, usually about 6:15).  I actually had the choice to sleep there or the top loft room, but that room was pretty hot.  My nephew took it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that logistically, it was really the only arrangement that made sense.  And all and all, it was fine.  And since I didn't pay for the house, I can't complain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beaches were gorgeous!  No matter how much sunscreen I put on, I still usually manage to get sunburned.  I wore a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;t-shirt&lt;/span&gt; most of the time.  My ears even got red from yesterday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;real world&lt;/span&gt; again on Monday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4147732201242406885?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4147732201242406885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4147732201242406885' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4147732201242406885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4147732201242406885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/06/no-longer-at-kids-table-but-still-stuck.html' title='No longer at the kids table, but still stuck on the pullout sofa bed in the living room'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-8180791456868895413</id><published>2008-06-07T13:32:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T13:36:00.756-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Louisiana is getting so old</title><content type='html'>For the second time in a month,  I'm in LA.  This time, just passing through on my to the white sandy beaches of Florida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to my spiffy new wireless &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; thingy, I can surf on the road!  I'm actually in the car right now.  Pretty cool.  Except my laptop battery doesn't last very long.   Bummer.  Oh well...there's only so much Internet I should do in one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-8180791456868895413?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/8180791456868895413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=8180791456868895413' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8180791456868895413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8180791456868895413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/06/louisiana-is-getting-so-old.html' title='Louisiana is getting so old'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-7661831210587857244</id><published>2008-05-27T20:29:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T20:50:24.960-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Louisiana is like a whole other state</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SDzDktJ36AI/AAAAAAAAAF8/FpUtsmEpidg/s1600-h/P5240123.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205250304697165826" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SDzDktJ36AI/AAAAAAAAAF8/FpUtsmEpidg/s320/P5240123.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I went to the Mudbug Festival in Shreveport this weekend with a friend from work. Mudbug is another, less classy name for the Crawfish. The actual festival was smaller than I was imagining...I guess any comparisons to the Texas State Fair should not have been made in my mind. But the food, oh my. Booths and booths of things steamed and stewed and fried and smothered in cajun sauce. I had red beans and rice and hamburger (I'm not really the seafood lover) and Dip'n Dots. I did taste some fried alligator and I had several bites of the boiled crawfish...not too bad! I'm not saying there really needs to be a festival for them, but not bad at all.&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;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SDzEj9J36BI/AAAAAAAAAGE/vB4OO5TK8mM/s1600-h/P5240124.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205251391323891730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SDzEj9J36BI/AAAAAAAAAGE/vB4OO5TK8mM/s320/P5240124.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a pile of mudbug shells. Disgusting looking, I know. The corn and potatoes that were served with them were possibly the best I have ever eaten. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I was so hot about 5pm. But after seeing those poor men cooking over the huge vats of steaming crawfish, I had to stop complaining. It takes dedication to share your crawfish love with the world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, I may have grown up only 50 minutes from the Louisiana border, but I felt almost as if I were in another country. And we were in north Louisiana. Imagine if I had traveled to the coast of Acadia. These are a few of the oddities I noticed:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. The accents - There was a cajun guy who came up to the table we were at. He started talking to us, but it was a full minute until I could half-way understand what he was saying. It turned out he was only saying "Your red beans and rice sure do look good." But what I heard was The Waterboy assistant coach, "Yoourn red beenz n rizze surre dough luk good, un huh."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Drive through daiquiri barns - Come on!  A little shack selling a very strong 20 oz frozen daiquiri with all kinds of liquor for only $6! And like the piece of tape covering the straw hole is really going to stop anyone from drinking and driving.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Dressing up 2 giant mudbugs as Santa and Mrs. Claws...in May! I'll let the picture speak for itself. &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SDzHitJ36EI/AAAAAAAAAGc/8phgwT5V-6A/s1600-h/P5240128.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205254668383938626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SDzHitJ36EI/AAAAAAAAAGc/8phgwT5V-6A/s320/P5240128.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-7661831210587857244?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/7661831210587857244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=7661831210587857244' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7661831210587857244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7661831210587857244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/05/louisiana-is-like-whole-other-state.html' title='Louisiana is like a whole other state'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SDzDktJ36AI/AAAAAAAAAF8/FpUtsmEpidg/s72-c/P5240123.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-7623097611996144452</id><published>2008-05-13T18:26:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T18:45:30.455-06:00</updated><title type='text'>This post doesn't have to have a point</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because now I can blog anytime I want. I don't have to carefully consider my topic and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-plan it and write a well-composed message. I can whip out any little thought that crosses my mind. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sucky&lt;/span&gt; for you, reader.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yep, my new little data card came yesterday...super fast. The installation was pretty easy too. No &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;CDs , no download&lt;/span&gt;, just plug and play-practically.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can be being lazy, too! Right now, I"m laid out on the couch, watching &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt;, and typing. Ouch...I'm wearing shorts, and my laptop gets hot! The speed isn't that fast, but it gets me online. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200028119618081634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SCo2Bhvg02I/AAAAAAAAAF0/Jyp-XTR-q94/s320/NY+Pics+027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is one of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;fav&lt;/span&gt; pics from NYC trip. Not b/c it is a great picture of me, hardly. I love tulips and there were tulips all over the city. Very gorgeous ones. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other picture captures &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;NYC's&lt;/span&gt; essence to me. There were signs everywhere saying no honking, $350 fine. But that doesn't stop New Yorkers! There was honking right and left. I would think it would be hard to police that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SCo0Bxvg01I/AAAAAAAAAFs/dcklLvaXuxw/s1600-h/NY+Pics+026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200025924889793362" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SCo0Bxvg01I/AAAAAAAAAFs/dcklLvaXuxw/s320/NY+Pics+026.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-7623097611996144452?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/7623097611996144452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=7623097611996144452' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7623097611996144452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7623097611996144452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/05/this-post-doesnt-have-to-have-point.html' title='This post doesn&apos;t have to have a point'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SCo2Bhvg02I/AAAAAAAAAF0/Jyp-XTR-q94/s72-c/NY+Pics+027.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-8767129711421249855</id><published>2008-05-12T11:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T11:34:01.927-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Can you feel the excitement?</title><content type='html'>You life may never be the same again.  In the not too distant future, expect more mind-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;blowing,&lt;/span&gt; exciting posts that enrich your lives.  At 12:24 pm on Monday, May 12, 2008, I vow to post with a little more frequency.  Why?  Because I will finally be getting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; access at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I signed up for Sprint's broadband through a data card.  I should be receiving somewhere around high-speed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; access.  That is assuming I can get a good signal at my house.  Because I can't get a good signal on my AT&amp;amp;T phone at the house.  I have to stand outside.  Now while I do love to inform you about my comings and goings, I do not have a power cord that will allow me to cart my desktop outside to update my blog.  So, hopefully Sprint will be better.   I have reason to hope.  And I have a 30 day money back guarantee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 2 to 4 days, this sweet little lady will be mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://nextelonline.nextel.com/NASApp/onlinestore/en/Action/DisplayPhones?filterString=Data_Cards_Phone_Char"&gt;http://nextelonline.nextel.com/NASApp/onlinestore/en/Action/DisplayPhones?filterString=Data_Cards_Phone_Char&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The service is pretty expensive, but I'm about out of choices here.  A girl can only live unconnected for so long.  I guess it's time to put the cats on the store brand of cat food.  So long &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Iams&lt;/span&gt;, hello Kitty's Choice.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;, probably not.  But there will have to be cuts somewhere.  I guess it will come from the eating better/throwing less food away/eating out less budget.  Except that money was going to more expensive gas.  I'm really glad I am carpooling.  If only my pesky b/f didn't live 25 minutes away.  We might have to start living like a long-distance couple :)    Make a date out of weekly work meetings.  Or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you know when I am able to post on my own free time...not constrained by quick lunch-time work posts.  I feel the pressure now.  I shouldn't have brought this up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-8767129711421249855?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/8767129711421249855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=8767129711421249855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8767129711421249855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8767129711421249855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/05/can-you-feel-excitement.html' title='Can you feel the excitement?'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-2470921031059275295</id><published>2008-04-22T14:47:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T08:27:42.358-06:00</updated><title type='text'>NYC Odd Sighting #1 (Not Siting #1)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SA5QK957PUI/AAAAAAAAAFc/TTn56wpM3h0/s1600-h/NY+Pics+064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192175569751194946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SA5QK957PUI/AAAAAAAAAFc/TTn56wpM3h0/s320/NY+Pics+064.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;While walking to the NYC library, the great bastion of learning and culture, we came across this scene.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The traditional art form of body painting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt inspired to write a haiku:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brush on my nipple&lt;br /&gt;A tickle, as people watch&lt;br /&gt;I turn red from paint&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-2470921031059275295?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/2470921031059275295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=2470921031059275295' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2470921031059275295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2470921031059275295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/04/nyc-odd-siting-1.html' title='NYC Odd Sighting #1 (Not Siting #1)'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/SA5QK957PUI/AAAAAAAAAFc/TTn56wpM3h0/s72-c/NY+Pics+064.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-2067374400198644458</id><published>2008-04-22T08:51:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T08:55:44.963-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fabulous!</title><content type='html'>I heart NYC and have a t-shirt to prove it.  We had a wonderful time!  The weather was gorgeous for the first time this year, so everyone was in a good mood.  The cherry blossoms and other trees were blooming.  The pope was in town.  There was a cool breeze, so the city was fresh and clean smelling.  Nothing went wrong on the trip, and everything went right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 1:  Arrived at LaGuardia about 2:30.   My bag arrived as well!  Typical cab ride to Brooklyn.  I was scared.  It was great.  Arrived at the Saints and Sinners B&amp;amp;B about 4.  We were on the 3rd floor of a 4 story brownstone.  It wasn’t as “nice” as a hotel, but it was a cool place to stay.  It showed me what it would be like to live in the neighborhood.  There were lots of families and kids.  It was a 10 minute walk to the subway, and it had lots of little shops and restaurants in the area.  We took a power nap, and b/f called and ordered tickets to a show later in the week.  Then he called his friends and made tentative plans for meeting up with them for the week.  We took a cab to a Columbian restaurant.  Had great empanadas, and then I had arroz con pollo with black beans.  It was all very tasty.  One of his friends ended up not having to work that night, so he met up with us at the restaurant for drinks.  Then we went to the bar where he works sometimes (he’s also a music teacher).  At the bar, there was a demonstration of a new musical instrument thing invented by a Japanese guy.  It was weird.  Sort of an electric piano crossed with a music box and a go board.  Went back to B&amp;amp;B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 2:  Woke up late.  Had brunch at Lobo’s Tex Mex.  Couldn’t go very long without some good familiar food:)  Then we took the subway into the city.  Arrived at Rockefeller Center to a mad rush of a lunchtime crowd.  So many people.  Went to St Patrick’s Cathedral.  Beautiful building, inside and out.  Walked to the Guggenheim Museum, but it was closed.  Needed to go to the bathroom, so we snuck into the Met.  Since we were there, we walked around a bit.  Saw Monets and Picassos, and Manets, and Rodins and huge asian sculptures and tons and tons of stuff.  Walked to Central Park.  Beautiful.  Subway back to Brooklyn to meet up with his friends for dinner and drinks.  Had an excellent burger at a French restaurant.  I know, I know but it was too good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 3:  Met up with friend 1 at the subway station.  Had lunch at a quirky little family owned “restaurant”.  They had 3 tables.  Walked along the Lower East Side.  Bought some sunglasses from a street vendor (mine got broken on the plane).  Went to Grand Central Station.  It certainly is a grand place.  I don’t know why they would spend so much money on a public place like that.  But it was gorgeous.  Walked some more (are you sensing a theme here?)    Stopped in the NYC library – also very gorgeous and massive.  Went up the Empire State Building.  Beautiful day and we could see for 10 miles.  Pigeon pooped on my hair.  But not much.  And I give him credit.  It took him guts to fly up that high.  Took a pedicab (a rickshaw with a bicycle) ride during rush hour back to south Central Park area.  Almost got hit.  Had dinner on a patio overlooking the park.   Walked to Times Square to go to The Lion King.  That was amazing!  We had really good seats, and the show was spectacular.  The kids who did Simba and Nala were very talented, and there was a South African lady who did Rafika, who had an amazing voice.  Got out of the show about 10:45pm and entered a crazy world of lights and people and vendors and madness.  Walked to the Hello Deli from Letterman fame, but it was closed of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 4:  Met friend #2 for brunch in Brooklyn.  Walked to the Brooklyn Promenade along the waterfront.  Very cool neighborhood.  I never really pictured kids living in the city, but they have parks everywhere and they act like its normal to play 2 feet from the busy streets.  We walked across Brooklyn Bridge.  Impressive and long!  Took a subway to Battery Park.  Then we went on a helicopter ride around Manhattan.  Wasn’t my idea, but I went along.  It was good – that was the closest we came to seeing the Statue of Liberty.  The heights didn’t scare me, but when he turned around, I started to get a little green.  The whole ride was 10-12 minutes.  It gave a good view of Ground Zero as well.  Then walked to dinner at a pizza place.  But it wasn’t my idea of NY pizza.  It was good, but the brick oven type, so it tasted like something I could have gotten in Dallas.  Walked along Canal Street and bought cheap t-shirts and got the offer to buy handbags, watches, DVDS, VHS (ha), and even a dime bag!  My NY experience was complete.  Which was great b/c I was running out of days and money!  Got back to the B&amp;amp;B and b/f went to have drinks with friend #3.  I chilled and packed and went to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 5:  Travel day.  Back in town about 3pm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a wonderful trip, but at least I have a reason to go back.  I still didn’t get my Grey’s Papaya hot dog, or to taste real NY pizza.  I highly recommend going.  I hope this entry wasn’t too long!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-2067374400198644458?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/2067374400198644458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=2067374400198644458' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2067374400198644458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/2067374400198644458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/04/fabulous.html' title='Fabulous!'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-6140286968178912984</id><published>2008-04-14T14:26:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T14:38:41.292-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rollerderby in the Big Apple</title><content type='html'>I want to tell you about what I did this past weekend and what I'm doing this coming weekend.  Just so you know that life after 30 doesn't revolve around pulling weeds.  Although I did that, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;roller derby&lt;/span&gt; bout on Saturday night!  A lady from work joined the all-women &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;roller derby&lt;/span&gt; league.  It was an interesting sport to watch.  If I can figure out how to add video to the blog, I will show you.  Very entertaining, loud, and lots of oohs and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ouches&lt;/span&gt; as the girls pushed and shoved their way around the track.  It attracted an interesting mix of people.  I went with about 30 or so co-workers and their spouses.  I'd say about 1/4 of the people are involved in an alternative lifestyle, not that there's anything wrong with that.  Yes, there were plenty of people of the type who wear white before Easter.  And also bikers and rockers and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;metalheads&lt;/span&gt; and tattoos and weird facial hair, and the other alternative lifestyle that you may have thought I was referring to.  Anyway, my friend lost, and it was her first time to skate.  But her goal was to come out alive, and she only has 1 bruise, so mission accomplished.  My b/f even bought a Dallas Derby girls t-shirt.  To go with his Women's Professional Football League t-shirt.  No, I'm not kidding.  I think we are going to try to go to one of those games as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now on to the big event!  I'm leaving on Wednesday morning to go to the city that is so nice you have to say the name twice!  For the first time ever, I'll be in NYC!  But I won't be eating any chili there because I'm a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Southerner&lt;/span&gt; and I know that Wolf brand chili is the only kind to eat and it is definitely not made in NYC.  I will be there for 4 nights.  So much to do...so much to see...so much to eat!  This is my actual priority list:  1) Eat a slice of NY pie - that's pizza to you who aren't in the know 2) Eat a NY &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;hot dog&lt;/span&gt; - I've been told not off the cart.  Maybe we will go to Nathan's  3) Something &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;cultural&lt;/span&gt;  4) Other stuff.  I'm going with my b/f.  This will be our first trip together.  Hopefully we will still be together when we get back.  If we do get back.  We are returning on an MD-80.  American says they are done with the whole wiring check thing.  We will see.  I'm not sure how I am to travel with.  Other than anxious, I'm not sure.  I'm trying to be a little spontaneous.  Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-6140286968178912984?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/6140286968178912984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=6140286968178912984' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6140286968178912984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6140286968178912984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/04/rollerderby-in-big-apple.html' title='Rollerderby in the Big Apple'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-75037917678153672</id><published>2008-04-10T13:45:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T13:51:32.960-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The tax man cometh and he left a little present in the yard</title><content type='html'>Finally, my house is paying for itself!  I get a tax refund this year!  That's right, Uncle Sam is writing me a check for $63!  If I only use my tax refund to pay off the house, I will be an out and out homeowner in, oh, 1 billion years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think next year will be even more...since I only had 3 housepayments in 2007, I will have paid more in taxes and interest in 2008.  I know that it is my money anyway, but it feels much better to receive money from the gov't than to give.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk about bad weather!  We had horrible storms last night.  They left me sitting in my closet at 4am with only one cat.  Tigger could not be found.  Good thing I didn't get a tornado, or I'd be 1 cat short of a litter.  And speaking of litter, there would be litter everywhere.  As of 1pm, I still didn't have power.  I hope to be pleasantly surprised when I get home today.  It may be an evening of reading "Around the world in 80 days" by candlelight for me.  I only have 1 more evening before book club, and I have to finish it!  I have been too lazy lately.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-75037917678153672?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/75037917678153672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=75037917678153672' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/75037917678153672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/75037917678153672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/04/tax-man-cometh-and-he-left-little.html' title='The tax man cometh and he left a little present in the yard'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-8409645476191453236</id><published>2008-03-29T15:53:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T15:59:06.009-06:00</updated><title type='text'>XXX</title><content type='html'>No, this entry is not x-rated.  That will be my age in about 7 hours, if we lived in ancient Rome.  30.  It's not so bad.  It really is cliche, but as you approach milestone years, it doesn't feel as old  as if it were someone else.   30 is nothing.   Some people have college sweatshirts that are 30 years old.  Anyway, I'm healthy, happy, and ambulatory, so that is good enough for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off tomorrow to eat some Mexican food &amp;amp; drink some margaritas on a patio, with hopefully nice spring weather.  Can't ask for anything more, right?  Oh, and I'm taking off work on Monday just for kicks, so I can't drink a few extra for you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then, &lt;br /&gt;forever XXIX&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-8409645476191453236?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/8409645476191453236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=8409645476191453236' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8409645476191453236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8409645476191453236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/03/xxx.html' title='XXX'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-7838430960194233756</id><published>2008-03-08T13:03:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T13:16:03.431-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fire and Ice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R9LkiYy3viI/AAAAAAAAAFM/7eAOWYtKduQ/s1600-h/DSCF1446.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175450201224625698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R9LkiYy3viI/AAAAAAAAAFM/7eAOWYtKduQ/s320/DSCF1446.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R9LkHoy3vhI/AAAAAAAAAFE/22i9dMj52d4/s1600-h/DSCF1444.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175449741663125010" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R9LkHoy3vhI/AAAAAAAAAFE/22i9dMj52d4/s320/DSCF1444.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The morning after...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had two of the four elements of the Greeks at the house this week. What are they again? Fire, water, wind, and earth? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, I guess I had 3. Well, there probably was some wind too. Maybe it was all four wrapped into one winter storm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After leaving work a little early to avoid the icy roads, I decided to be brave and attempt another fire in the fireplace. After the smoky disaster of last time, I was hesitant to say the least. But I figured it would be the last really cold week before spring. I wanted to get rid of the firewood I had in the garage.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It worked! No smoke escaped into the house. It all went up the chimney as designed.  It was very cozy, I must say.  Except I was all alone.  Due to the bad weather, my Lost watching party was cancelled.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, not much of a party, but usually 1 or 2 people come over to watch.  Only because I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;DVR&lt;/span&gt; so we can stop and discuss, and more importantly rewind, to answer all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wtf&lt;/span&gt; questions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw my share of wintry conditions this week.  On Monday night, we had snow flurries.  On Tues/Wed. I was in Minneapolis.  They had a very pretty snowfall as I was heading to the airport to fly back.  Then I went to the Dallas Stars hockey game Wed. night (my first, it was fun!  free tickets...even more fun!)  I wasn't prepared for the coldness inside, but duh!  They skate on ice.  Then we had another snowfall on Thursday/Friday.  There are still some patches of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;unmelted&lt;/span&gt; snow in the shadows.  But should melt by tomorrow as it will be 60 degrees.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and I played tennis this morning at 9:00 am.  When it was 26 degrees.  Yes, I said 26.  But we won, so I guess it was worth it.  That's Texas for you.  70 degrees and I get a sunburn, then frostbite, and then the great thaw until next November.  &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/2656633859845982513-7838430960194233756?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/7838430960194233756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=7838430960194233756' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7838430960194233756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7838430960194233756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/03/fire-and-ice.html' title='Fire and Ice'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R9LkiYy3viI/AAAAAAAAAFM/7eAOWYtKduQ/s72-c/DSCF1446.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4112952295240797763</id><published>2008-03-03T10:00:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T10:12:22.173-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gray Hairs and Wool Blends</title><content type='html'>I'm resigned to the fact that I am aging. The signs are all coming. The white hair...on my chin. The extra bit of "me" that wasn't in the mirror the last time I looked at my behind. The lack of energy. The excitement of looking for a new business suit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was that last part?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello, my name is Jennifer. I like shopping for business suits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a Saturday night (party!), I found myself looking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;forward&lt;/span&gt; to going to the mall to find a new suit to wear on a business trip this week to the cold north. First I went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Steinmart&lt;/span&gt; because sometimes you can find some suits that are really cute and not all uptight. But I didn't find any thing. Well, I didn't find any clothes. But I did find, oh, about a billion decoration things for the house. But it was okay, because I had a 20% off coupon they sent for my birthday. They are so nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I headed off to the mall. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Dillards&lt;/span&gt;, struck out. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Desperation&lt;/span&gt; was in the air. I was trying to avoid going to Ann Taylor because I know I would spend way too much. Not necessarily on the suit but on the other 15 items that were too cute to pass up. So then I headed to Macy's which I normally don't shop a lot. I didn't like the layout, but they had some great winter suits on sale. So good I bought 2! So maybe the next time I have a trip, I won't have to make a mad dash to the mall. Of course the next time I go probably won't be in the winter, so I may have to adjust that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, other than the fact that I'm now leaning toward wearing my basic nice black suit instead of one of the new ones, I'm all set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aging isn't so bad. I just never thought I would be fighting acne and cellulite at the same time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4112952295240797763?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4112952295240797763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4112952295240797763' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4112952295240797763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4112952295240797763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/03/gray-hairs-and-wool-blends.html' title='Gray Hairs and Wool Blends'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-1164746353588861781</id><published>2008-02-21T08:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T08:56:03.338-06:00</updated><title type='text'>When God runs over your stray cat, he dumps another one in your backyard (or Grilling on a Wednesday night)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;The weather last night was ab fab, so I decided to test out the old grill.  I made pork chops and they were great.  They were pre-seasoned from the grocery store.  A lot too salty for my taste, but still yummy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, as I was grilling, I let the cats outside and they were doing their usual sniffing and eating grass and chasing bugs.  Then we went in for dinner.  A few hours later,  I decided I really needed to clean off the grill or else I would regret it later.  So Tigger and I headed outside.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In the time it took for me to walk the 10 feet to the grill, open it, and maybe swab it once, Tigger is standing nose to nose to a pretty white cat.  There is much growling and noises you wouldn't think would come out of cats.  I walk over to them slowly, not really sure how I can break up a cat fight.  Tigger is all afluff and standing his ground.  It is his yard after all.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what they said to each other, but in a split second, the chase begins.  Tigger chased the cat to the side yard, and he/she/it leaps over my 6 ft fence like nobody's business.  I was afraid that Tigger would try to follow.  But thank goodness he didn't.  He stayed put but the growling continued.  I was afraid to pick him up, but he let.  I dropped him off inside.  He was still making quite the commotion.  Bobby had heard all this from inside, because he was waiting by the door with a curious expression on his face.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My Tigger, the brave hero!  He was going to protect me.  I just hope he doesn't remember and try to climb the fence that way. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-1164746353588861781?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/1164746353588861781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=1164746353588861781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1164746353588861781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1164746353588861781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/02/when-god-runs-over-your-stray-cat-he.html' title='When God runs over your stray cat, he dumps another one in your backyard (or Grilling on a Wednesday night)'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-1512958326618489216</id><published>2008-02-15T10:19:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T10:25:17.162-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Not house related, other than it happened at my house</title><content type='html'>I found my first official gray, or actually white, hair this morning! Yikes! There have been a few that I spotted but could pretend that they were really, really blond. This one was different. Maybe it was the lighting. Maybe it was my approaching 30th bday. Whatever the case, I am publically avowing that I, Ms. No Longer At The Kids' Table, have one, if not multiple, gray hair(s).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That wasn't so bad.   This will help me ease my way into discussions of metamucil and large, shapeless panties.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-1512958326618489216?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/1512958326618489216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=1512958326618489216' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1512958326618489216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1512958326618489216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/02/none-house-related-other-than-it.html' title='Not house related, other than it happened at my house'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4281387053527278926</id><published>2008-02-08T08:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T08:55:15.367-06:00</updated><title type='text'>CATastrophe</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I wished a bad thought and it happened.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I had wished the neighborhood stray cat (who I found out the neighbor does feed) would go away and stop bothering my cats. Well, he is gone, and not in the “I’ve been adopted by a loving family who will feed me and put a collar on me and not let me roam around” kind of way. Driving to work this morning, I saw Trash the cat laying in the road, which isn’t uncommon for him. However, the red liquid next to head wasn’t normal. He was run over. Seeing him like that broke my heart. He was a pain but I didn’t want him dead!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I will be extra careful and not let my boys get out. It would be so horrible to drive up and see ‘lil Tigger sprawled out like that. As a kitten, he was actually hit by a car and rescued, and that’s how he came to me. As God as my witness, I won’t let that happen to him again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Trash, I hope you are happy wherever you are now.  Peace little buddy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4281387053527278926?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4281387053527278926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4281387053527278926' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4281387053527278926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4281387053527278926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/02/catastrophe.html' title='CATastrophe'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-8563161876993136153</id><published>2008-01-22T11:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T11:20:43.267-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Prometheus And The Goblet Of Fire</title><content type='html'>I feel like Tom Hanks.  Or  more accurately, his character in Cast Away.  You know the scene where he starts his campfire for the first time?  He runs around half naked shouting and praising his glorious skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I too have created fire.  In my fireplace.  Of course, mine started with a flick of a lighter (but it was complicated...I had to hold down a button while flicking).  And my survival does not depend of my ability to start said fire, only my enjoyment of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;smores&lt;/span&gt;.  And I wasn't half-naked because it's cold, hence the fire in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I braved my fears and actually used my fireplace.  It is no longer just a pretty centerpiece for the living room.  It has a use, a warm and crackly use.  And it is not longer pristine white on the inside.  Big black flame marks :( &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must confess that my manly friend came over the other night and lit the inaugural fire.  He told me about his "theory" of making a good fire.  Apparently its all about stacking the wood to create paths for the flames and smoke to travel.  Little sticks at the bottom, progressing to the big log on top.  It's still magic to me.  Scary, black magic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, I have to go stock up on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;marsh mellows&lt;/span&gt;.  And fireplace cleaner.  And pokers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-8563161876993136153?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/8563161876993136153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=8563161876993136153' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8563161876993136153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8563161876993136153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/01/prometheus-and-goblet-of-fire.html' title='Prometheus And The Goblet Of Fire'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-5409890871217619970</id><published>2008-01-02T11:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T11:22:23.099-06:00</updated><title type='text'>UPDATED:  Paperwork Blues and Christmas Tree Injuries</title><content type='html'>I guess the honeymoon period of having my house is over. I got a homestead exemption form in the mail. Which was cool, because I was going to have to search the internet and download it, but the county sent it to me first. After filling in the document, which I barely understood, and making a photo copy of my driver's license, I noticed that I couldn't check any of the exemption boxes. It says that you must have lived in the house as your residence on Jan. 1st of the tax year. So I guess I won't get any benefits this year. But, I went ahead and mailed it in just in case it will prevent me from having to do it next year, when I probably won't remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I got the real estate tax statement for 2007 in the mail. Then I realized that my housepayment has escrow so that it should be paid automatically by the bank when I send the monthly payment. But then I thought, how would the county know who my mortgage broker is? So I figured I needed to call the bank and let them know how much the bill would be. But their automated answering line said "Have you recently received your 2007 tax statement? Don't worry, it will be automatically applied, and you will see it on your next statement." But again I'm worried that it won't be, and maybe that message was for people who have already been paying their loan for more than a year. I guess I will be patient and see what my next statement looks like. I just don't want to go to jail for tax evasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(UPDATE:  Somehow it worked!  My taxes were shown on the January statement.  So now I can assume all has been taken care of. Sweet!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took down my Christmas tree yesterday. The front window looks so bare. How quickly we become adjusted to change. It was hard to take apart, and the needles kept biting my hands. I have a few scrapes, but I survived. They go nicely with my sore arm that I got from playing Wii tennis. That's right, I'm sore from playing a video game. On a completely unrelated note, I signed up at the city rec center to get in better shape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I definitely need to put up some curtains in the front window. I don't know what kind to get. Any suggestions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-5409890871217619970?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/5409890871217619970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=5409890871217619970' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5409890871217619970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5409890871217619970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2008/01/paperwork-blues-and-christmas-tree.html' title='UPDATED:  Paperwork Blues and Christmas Tree Injuries'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-1217228292666797578</id><published>2007-12-04T14:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T15:05:08.458-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And lo, the angel said unto him, Behold the third blog of the day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R1W_nlxITTI/AAAAAAAAAEk/6ly2PVEM1j8/s1600-h/DSCF1427.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140225236587269426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R1W_nlxITTI/AAAAAAAAAEk/6ly2PVEM1j8/s320/DSCF1427.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Something's missing from my mantel.  Can you find it?  Turn to page 47 for the answer.  Or just read the next sentence.   I don't have a stocking yet.  I think my original stocking at my parents' house finally disintegrated.  But I felt weird shopping for 1 stocking.  Santa won't be coming to fill it up anyway.  And won't it be kind of pathetic?  One lil ole sock dangling from the fireplace?  Or would it be more pathetic to have mine plus 2 little stockings for the cats? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-1217228292666797578?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/1217228292666797578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=1217228292666797578' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1217228292666797578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1217228292666797578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/12/and-lo-angel-said-unto-him-behold-third.html' title='And lo, the angel said unto him, Behold the third blog of the day'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R1W_nlxITTI/AAAAAAAAAEk/6ly2PVEM1j8/s72-c/DSCF1427.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-1906078142087067958</id><published>2007-12-04T14:51:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T14:57:43.609-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Reason #354...</title><content type='html'>that I'm glad I don't have a kid right now (probably the lamest of them all). I can put out my nativity set, and I don't have to hide baby Jesus until Christmas day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R1W-AFxITSI/AAAAAAAAAEc/EH_DtXxbnGw/s1600-h/DSCF1428.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140223458470808866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R1W-AFxITSI/AAAAAAAAAEc/EH_DtXxbnGw/s320/DSCF1428.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apparently some parents leave out the baby until closer to the actually holiday.  So the porceline, or wood, or plastic (if you have the lil' tykes holiday nativity set) Mary and Joseph are left to stare at the empty space until the big day arrives.  Something about how we all need to sit back and anticipate the gift that is to arrive to light the world.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I am an adult, and I don't really need a reminder about when Jesus is to arrive and since God is timeless, I'm not sure about all this linear calendar thing anyway.  And no matter how many times I try to recount the nativity story to the cats, they always insist on putting baby Jesus out before Christmas.  They just don't get it, and I don't think they ever will given their tiny feline brains.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-1906078142087067958?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/1906078142087067958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=1906078142087067958' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1906078142087067958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1906078142087067958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/12/reason-354.html' title='Reason #354...'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R1W-AFxITSI/AAAAAAAAAEc/EH_DtXxbnGw/s72-c/DSCF1428.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-5582140176303838133</id><published>2007-12-04T14:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T15:07:36.727-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Cheer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R1W8rFxITRI/AAAAAAAAAEU/C40MMNvd6qc/s1600-h/DSCF1437.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140221998181928210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R1W8rFxITRI/AAAAAAAAAEU/C40MMNvd6qc/s320/DSCF1437.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh, Tannembaum! Here's my tree. All 7.5 feet of chewable pine needles (Tigger likes to chew on the tree. I'm forseeing a large intestinal blockage in the future.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm just glad I didn't have to go to a lot and strap it to the top of my car and all that mess. It came out of a box as God and sweet little baby Jesus intended.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm debating the topper: a star, an angel, or a bow? Or naked?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I heard all the rage among the rich and tasteless is to hang trees upside-down. Apparently that was the way the Germans did it when they first came up with the tradition of decorating a tree. Kinda weird.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-5582140176303838133?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/5582140176303838133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=5582140176303838133' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5582140176303838133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5582140176303838133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/12/holiday-cheer.html' title='Holiday Cheer'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R1W8rFxITRI/AAAAAAAAAEU/C40MMNvd6qc/s72-c/DSCF1437.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-3462471760573170691</id><published>2007-12-03T10:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T10:46:22.419-06:00</updated><title type='text'>GrillMaster 6500 XRPS120 Deluxe Edition</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R1Qwb6XU9kI/AAAAAAAAAEE/aaCR2rBcbDs/s1600-R/DSCF1431.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139786330818278978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R1Qwb6XU9kI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Fzly5qswDWI/s320/DSCF1431.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, here she is in her shiny metalic and black glory! This is the grill that was so generously bestowed upon me by my coworkers. I made up the name, but it is a Weber. This is impressive (for all you non-grillers that weren't really impressed).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You also get to see the tiles that my dad and brother added to enlarge my patio. You can't really see the design on the tiles, but it is cool. It's hard to tell, but it is December in Texas. I haven't even had to bring in all my plants yet for the winter!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I planted iris bulbs this weekend. Hopefully, they will bring beauty to my yard come spring. That is unless scraggly stray cat named "Trash" doesn't decide to use my flower bed as a litter box.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As an animal lover, or at least animal co-exister, I'm having a real crisis with this cat. It is a pretty cat, and friendly. In fact it demands attention with a shrill meow that would make the Wicked Witch cringe. But it also instigates all kinds of chaos when it prances around my front window inciting the boys to be all tough and macho and defend their territory. So everyday, I waffle between taking it to the pound (no collar although it tends to call my neighbor's garage home) and adopting it as an outside cat. What we end up with a confused cat that either gets fed or water sprayed on it, depending on my mood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-3462471760573170691?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/3462471760573170691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=3462471760573170691' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3462471760573170691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3462471760573170691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/12/grillmaster-6500-xrps120.html' title='GrillMaster 6500 XRPS120 Deluxe Edition'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/R1Qwb6XU9kI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Fzly5qswDWI/s72-c/DSCF1431.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-7436759372978189688</id><published>2007-11-20T15:50:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T15:50:58.370-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!</title><content type='html'>No, I will not be hosting turkey day in my new house.  That is what everyone is asking.  Despite the title of my blog, I’m still a kid when it comes to holidays.  Not responsible for a thing, except to show up.  That may change at some point, but for now I’m enjoying it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I’m enjoying my house.  It is somewhat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fallish&lt;/span&gt; at my house.  There are leaves in my yard.  I have my fall decorations out.  But it is 83 degrees today.  My first attempt at planting flowers (pansies) almost completely failed.  I will blame the unusually warm weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I tell you I got a great new grill?  My coworkers got together and bought me a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Webber&lt;/span&gt; gas grill!  It’s very nice.   I tried it out on Sunday, and I managed to grill chicken kabobs without sending lethal amounts of propane into the neighborhood or starting a fire.  The wooden skewers did burn, despite soaking for 30 minutes.  I will invest in metal skewers.  It is awesome.  I hope I can learn to marinate and to touch a steak to know if its done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will post a picture soon.  Still no home access to the Internet.  I’m considering getting satellite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt;, but it’s $50 a month!  I’m way too cheap for that.  I’m waiting for my techie friend to install his external modem to see if the problem was my modem.  Then I will see if I can live with dial-up again.  I don’t know what I could give up to make up for the $50 a month.  On websites discussing ways to cut back, they always say you should stop going to Starbucks everyday and that money adds up.  But not fair!  I’m not a coffee drinker!  Maybe I will become one, so I can give it up, and I will feel like my budget is not getting hurt J  Of course, I would probably get addicted to the coffee.  Maybe I can train my cats to go potty outside, saving me cat litter money.  Or maybe I will stop giving them their daily latte.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-7436759372978189688?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/7436759372978189688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=7436759372978189688' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7436759372978189688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7436759372978189688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/11/happy-thanksgiving-everyone.html' title='Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4030209137480708647</id><published>2007-11-06T09:21:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T09:21:55.413-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Update:  I have locked myself out of my house</title><content type='html'>Upcoming Project:  Find a hidey hole for spare key.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4030209137480708647?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4030209137480708647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4030209137480708647' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4030209137480708647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4030209137480708647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/11/update-i-have-locked-myself-out-of-my.html' title='Update:  I have locked myself out of my house'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-3377661854777210258</id><published>2007-10-29T16:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T16:47:55.007-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Time, No Nothing</title><content type='html'>What's a month between friends.  Hey, it's not my fault.  Really.  I don't have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; at home.  Long story.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, not really long, but I don't what to bore you with technical details.  When I only blog every 36 days, I don't want to waste it on how my dial-up modem doesn't work.  Yes, that's correct, dial-up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see what's been going on.  Oh, yeah.  House.  Or as I like to call it, fun little project that never ends.  A few landscaping things have happened.  I have mowed the grass all of 3 times.   I have been carpooling the last few weeks, so that makes me feel all grown-up and environmental.   In fact, carpool is the reason I get to write this post.  I am ready to go, but my ride is not, so I'm doing this while she needs an few extra minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My electric bills have been reasonable, almost the same as my apartment, so I'm excited about that.  My water bill...not so much.  Hopefully, it is so high because of my need to water the lawn every day for a while to get it going.  Hopefully it is not because I have a leak in my sprinkler system.  I have purchased some accessories, which is fun, but I'm not very decorative, so not sure about placement.  I have met a few more neighbors, but have not become instant best buds with any of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having a house-warming party this weekend for work people.  Feeling the stress of the house needing to be perfect for that.  Not only is my boss invited, but my boss's boss's boss is coming.  He was the first to RSVP.  Hopefully that goes smoothly.  I'm thinking about refinancing to pay for all the liquor and wine and beer I need to buy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;House survived weekend with kids.   It comfortably (at least comfortably for me) slept 5 adults, 1 teenager, 2 kids, and a baby.  It was fun to have a backyard to sit in.  Weather has been great.  They started building a new house 2 down from me that has already been sold.  2 unsold houses still sit on their little lots.  Hopefully they won't be vacant for long. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any other rambling thoughts?  Hmm...still haven't locked myself out of my house, but am waiting for the day.  Oh, I thought I short-circuited my whole house this weekend.  While trying to edge my lawn, my 50 ft extention cord was just too short.  So I bought another 50 foot cord, thinking that makes 100 feet of cord (yes I was a mathalete).  Only after connecting the two cords and trying to start my edger, and then trying to start my mower, and not having any electric power, did I read the extension cord label, and see that it says do not connect 2 extension cords together.  Ooops.  I'm sure everyone else in the world knows not to do that, but I didn't.  Anway, after trying to find the circuit breaker that covers the outside of the house unsuccessfly, I found a reset button for the outlets.  With electric power restored, and a trip to Lowe's to buy the proper 100 feet of extension cord, 100 feet connected in one bundle, I was able to start on the lawn.  Edging is an art, my friend.  And I don't like that art.  Stay tuned for more life lessons, and kids remember...never fly a kite around a power line.  But I don't have lines, they are all buried underground.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-3377661854777210258?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/3377661854777210258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=3377661854777210258' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3377661854777210258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3377661854777210258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/10/long-time-no-nothing.html' title='Long Time, No Nothing'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-8330549866776554309</id><published>2007-09-24T08:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T08:09:25.169-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Long overdue pictures.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RvfE9D0iQuI/AAAAAAAAAD8/_isnzFPKiJQ/s1600-h/house9-23-07+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113772455179207394" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RvfE9D0iQuI/AAAAAAAAAD8/_isnzFPKiJQ/s320/house9-23-07+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RvfE2z0iQtI/AAAAAAAAAD0/ynrXT65Gnws/s1600-h/house9-23-07+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113772347805024978" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RvfE2z0iQtI/AAAAAAAAAD0/ynrXT65Gnws/s320/house9-23-07+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RvfEvj0iQsI/AAAAAAAAADs/-ucTB8Mw6_U/s1600-h/house9-23-07+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113772223250973378" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RvfEvj0iQsI/AAAAAAAAADs/-ucTB8Mw6_U/s320/house9-23-07+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RvfEpT0iQrI/AAAAAAAAADk/O1hbMIez6eM/s1600-h/house9-23-07+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113772115876790962" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RvfEpT0iQrI/AAAAAAAAADk/O1hbMIez6eM/s320/house9-23-07+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RvfEgz0iQqI/AAAAAAAAADc/M6x26dS_eZI/s1600-h/house9-23-07+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RvfEZD0iQpI/AAAAAAAAADU/pYL--TRmkRg/s1600-h/house9-23-07+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113771836703916690" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RvfEZD0iQpI/AAAAAAAAADU/pYL--TRmkRg/s320/house9-23-07+002.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;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-8330549866776554309?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/8330549866776554309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=8330549866776554309' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8330549866776554309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8330549866776554309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/09/long-overdue-pictures.html' title='Long overdue pictures.'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RvfE9D0iQuI/AAAAAAAAAD8/_isnzFPKiJQ/s72-c/house9-23-07+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-1761686584662740974</id><published>2007-09-12T10:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T10:48:50.242-06:00</updated><title type='text'>No house payment this month!</title><content type='html'>I was hoping I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wouldn&lt;/span&gt;'t fall into not blogging after moving into my house. Certain people, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; 1 person, stopped blogging about their house as soon as they moved it. I promised myself I would keep it up. At least for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a quick recap until I can really post a thoughtful post. Yeah, right. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, the move and closing went incredibly well. Nothing major to report, except I think there is something wrong with my sprinkler system. At first it wouldn't go off at all. So we set it to bypass the weather sensor. Came on immediately. But now it goes off at 1pm, even though I have checked the programs and there is no 1pm setting. It does go off at 5am like I had programmed it. So now everyday I have to remember to turn it off before I leave for work, and turn it back on before I go to bed. Hopefully I won't have to water the grass everyday for very much longer. Oh, and the extended fence that I asked for messed up the sprinkler arrangement. Now one patch of grass gets no water, so I have to water that by hand for awhile. My dad can move that around though. He will be a busy man :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house looks great! All boxes inside have been unpacked. The garage needs to be tackled, but I'm the only one who sees it. I have an edger, but no mower yet. A big project that my dad will do in the future is to add a covered patio to the back. It is way too westward facing to enjoy the patio in the evenings without shade. My parents are probably coming up this weekend to plant some more shrubs and crepe myrtles. I have not had the house to myself for a weekend yet. I'm having some friends over for dinner Saturday night, and I have a party scheduled for work friends on Oct. 6&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; (I have to not only invite my boss, and his boss, but my boss's boss's boss (the owner of the company...that is another story).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The phone company is coming on Saturday, so I will finally have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;landline&lt;/span&gt;. And can finally get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; access (dial-up in all its glory). I don't get great cell reception in the house. I will have to get satellite because I can't get cable :( So I am missing all my favorite summer shows on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;FX&lt;/span&gt; and TBS and etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, all is right with the world, although the grass really is greener in my neighbor's yard. Well, one neighbor, not the other side. Ask me again after my first payment is due Oct. 1st.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-1761686584662740974?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/1761686584662740974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=1761686584662740974' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1761686584662740974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1761686584662740974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/09/no-house-payment-this-month.html' title='No house payment this month!'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-7789923506762708219</id><published>2007-08-31T21:13:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T21:30:16.465-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A House Closing and a Funeral</title><content type='html'>It has been an emotionally draining day. I closed at 9:30, was done by a little after ten, then drove straight to a funeral. You take the good, you take the bad, and then you have the facts of life, the facts of life. I almost refused to sign my credit card slip at lunch because my hand was already tired from all the signage from the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had a happy hour(s), therefore it is official. No turning back now. I am a home-owner. I am a home-owner. Let me say it one more time and maybe I will believe it. I am a home-owner. Nope, didn't work. Still don't believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't run around my house neck'd like I planned because the mini-blinds are not in yet...but otherwise I can do as I please on my "homestead." As if I am pioneer or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like a new parent must feel when they leave the hospital. Someone else has been taking care of my newborn, but lets me look and hold and touch, but when I am tired, I have been able to send the baby back the nursery. Now, I have to figure out how to take care of the house myself. You get so much information in such a short time. I have to figure out the water sprinkler system. Something about an air conditioner in my attic, and changing the filter every 9 months. Something about applying for a homestead exemption. Something about a security system. Something about new grass and trees have to be watered. And you have to water your foundation? What the crap? All I really heard was, here's the keys to your house and you don't owe a cent until October 1st. Well, aside from the really big check that you just wrote. I ran out of room writing out one-million, eight-hundred thirty-seven dollars and 92 cents. Couldn't they have rounded up or down? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, it wasn't that much. But it might as well be. I won't have that much money saved up again for a long, long, long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really has been a cool experience. But I'm sure it would be awesome to share it with someone. Sure, I have talked with lots of people and shared my joy, but I don't it's the same thing as actually "sharing" the experience with someone. Being able to look at someone and say, this is ours! For better or worse. I have a sneaking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;suspision&lt;/span&gt; that it won't quite be as cool when I walk in the house tomorrow for the first time with my parents. But maybe it will feel even better, because I know that I have done this all by myself. No one else helped me save the down payment. No one else could make the decisions for me. It's all me, baby. For better or worse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-7789923506762708219?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/7789923506762708219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=7789923506762708219' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7789923506762708219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7789923506762708219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/08/house-closing-and-funeral.html' title='A House Closing and a Funeral'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-1795331734249770964</id><published>2007-08-28T07:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T07:54:42.759-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My bags are packed, I'm ready to go.</title><content type='html'>Ok, I'm not leaving on a jet plane.  But I am almost all boxed up...to the point I don't like coming  home to my apartment anymore.  I can barely walk around.  I took all the pictures and curtains down last night, and it looks so bare:(  I'm a little sad, because I loved my apartment.  It was definitely my favorite one.  But onward and upward!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can breathe a little easier now.  My agent sent a note saying that everything looks good to close on Friday, so I can hopefully start moving in Saturday!  I just have to put faith that everyone involved has done their part and will be ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fridge is supposed to be delivered Saturday, my parents are coming up Saturday afternoon, and the movers are coming Sunday morning.  So I can be BBQing on Labor Day.  Ok, maybe not quite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prayer for my piece of mind and my carpal tunnel as I sign all the paperwork.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-1795331734249770964?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/1795331734249770964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=1795331734249770964' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1795331734249770964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/1795331734249770964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-bags-are-packed-im-ready-to-go.html' title='My bags are packed, I&apos;m ready to go.'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4786335508823400951</id><published>2007-08-24T08:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T08:12:18.008-06:00</updated><title type='text'>(insert interesting text here)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rs7nOhJu0uI/AAAAAAAAADM/GYN9G4C_XVA/s1600-h/house8-21-07+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102269664460722914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rs7nOhJu0uI/AAAAAAAAADM/GYN9G4C_XVA/s320/house8-21-07+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rs7nFxJu0tI/AAAAAAAAADE/K28Fz5WLJJQ/s1600-h/house8-21-07+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102269514136867538" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rs7nFxJu0tI/AAAAAAAAADE/K28Fz5WLJJQ/s320/house8-21-07+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rs7m-xJu0sI/AAAAAAAAAC8/tAmADjNLfNY/s1600-h/house8-21-07+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102269393877783234" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rs7m-xJu0sI/AAAAAAAAAC8/tAmADjNLfNY/s320/house8-21-07+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rs7m4hJu0rI/AAAAAAAAAC0/GIz1im1KcCE/s1600-h/house8-21-07+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102269286503600818" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rs7m4hJu0rI/AAAAAAAAAC0/GIz1im1KcCE/s320/house8-21-07+010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4786335508823400951?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4786335508823400951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4786335508823400951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4786335508823400951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4786335508823400951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/08/insert-interesting-text-here.html' title='(insert interesting text here)'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rs7nOhJu0uI/AAAAAAAAADM/GYN9G4C_XVA/s72-c/house8-21-07+009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-5193147520072660294</id><published>2007-08-23T12:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T12:52:24.276-06:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Days=1 Week = Eternity</title><content type='html'>In 168 hours, I will have a house.  Hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went during my lunch break to look today.  The builder happened to be there.  We were talking about the progress, etc. but I finally had to pin him down.  So I said, so will it be ready on the 30th?  And he said, sure if you want it to be.  Like I would choose not to have it ready as soon as possible.  Then he said, what day is the 30th?  And I was like Thursday, duh.  So he said sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know the details yet, but I guess I will schedule a walk through around Thursday, and assuming no problems, sign paperwork and close on Friday?  And move all weekend?  ??? That is my life these days, big question marks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The carpet guy was there today.  Then they have to finish up some of the trimming.  Put in the closet hanging rods, put in the blinds, finish staining the edge of the cabinets, and then any paint touch-ups and door bangs.  And I think that is it for the inside!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The driveway was poured.  He said they should be digging the posts for the fence today, do the fencing tomorrow.  The sprinklers Monday, and I guess it only takes a day for the lawn?  Remember the tree in the backyard?  The fence will probably run through the middle.  I think it will look kinda stupid to have a fence, tree, and then more fence.  So much for privacy.  And also, it might be too late for the fence request I had.  I wanted my backyard fence to come closer to the front of the house so my dining window would be in my backyard.  But he said they had already ordered the fence, and that would require 3 more panels.  So not sure about that :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we will see!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-5193147520072660294?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/5193147520072660294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=5193147520072660294' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5193147520072660294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5193147520072660294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/08/7-days1-week-eternity.html' title='7 Days=1 Week = Eternity'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-7624828898974709088</id><published>2007-08-22T18:56:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T19:01:46.947-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes I dream...about my house</title><content type='html'>The other night I had a dream about my new house.  I drove by just to look at the progress, and I thought it looked completely finished.  The yard was in (but had major bald spots), and the fence was up.  I thought "The house looks ready, it must be time to move in.  I wonder why the builder didn't tell me it was time?"  For some reason I had the garage door opener, so I pressed the button and walked into the garage.  Then I realized that the door was locked, and they hadn't given me the keys yet.  But when I closed the garage door, they had taped the keys to the inside of the garage door.  Cool.  So I opened the door and walked through my house, amazed at all the details and that it was my house.  Finally, I went to the side of the yard to see if my electric meter was accessible to the electric company (that came from a real life conversation I had...how am I supposed to know if they meter is accessible...as far as I know I don't even have one yet).  That is when I noticed the fence wasn't completely done.  So then I said, that is why they haven't told me to move in yet, because it is not done.  So I put the keys back and left.  That's it.  Not sure what it says about me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-7624828898974709088?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/7624828898974709088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=7624828898974709088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7624828898974709088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7624828898974709088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/08/sometimes-i-dreamabout-my-house.html' title='Sometimes I dream...about my house'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-6738487232902394987</id><published>2007-08-19T09:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T09:49:50.287-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures worth a thousand words, so I don't have to blog.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RshmfxJu0qI/AAAAAAAAACs/JFflmNhATOQ/s1600-h/house8-16-07+fireplace.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100439273953219234" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RshmfxJu0qI/AAAAAAAAACs/JFflmNhATOQ/s320/house8-16-07+fireplace.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RshmQhJu0pI/AAAAAAAAACk/HBdXaQyqSmg/s1600-h/house8-16-07+front.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100439011960214162" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RshmQhJu0pI/AAAAAAAAACk/HBdXaQyqSmg/s320/house8-16-07+front.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RshmKBJu0oI/AAAAAAAAACc/2oMl4mbrTxw/s1600-h/house8-16-07+living.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100438900291064450" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RshmKBJu0oI/AAAAAAAAACc/2oMl4mbrTxw/s320/house8-16-07+living.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-6738487232902394987?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/6738487232902394987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=6738487232902394987' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6738487232902394987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6738487232902394987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/08/pictures-worth-thousand-words-so-i-dont.html' title='Pictures worth a thousand words, so I don&apos;t have to blog.'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RshmfxJu0qI/AAAAAAAAACs/JFflmNhATOQ/s72-c/house8-16-07+fireplace.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4633131527395939896</id><published>2007-08-14T22:36:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T22:39:24.655-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A post to end speculation</title><content type='html'>Perhaps I have not mentioned that the two neighbors on either side of me, as well as the one across the street, are all retired men or couples.  With that being said, no I do not expect much neighborhood romance a la Wisteria Lane.  No handsome plumber that I have seen so far.  Only 1 possibility...a youngish man who walks his dog.  More details as they unfold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to throw this out there, and to set a personal record for a three-peat post in one day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4633131527395939896?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4633131527395939896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4633131527395939896' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4633131527395939896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4633131527395939896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/08/post-to-end-speculation.html' title='A post to end speculation'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-7445948300764483039</id><published>2007-08-14T12:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T12:16:21.574-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My feet are dirty</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Every time&lt;/span&gt; I go to see my house, I'm wearing sandals. Since I don't have a driveway, walkway, or even grass yet, I have to trek through dirt on a good day, or mud on a not a good day. Today was no exception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked out a very similar tile for the shower. Probably, a wasted trip, because any of the three that I chose from would have been fine. And to be honest, I didn't even really remember picking out tile in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I was in the neighborhood, I stopped by the house, and it was open. The painters were inside. It looks &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt; different already. The walls are a light beige and the trim is white. The mantel really stands out now. The closets shelves are up and many of the doors. The cabinets are stained, as well. Some real progress! My closet is awesome by the way! It has one of those built in shoe or pants shelves thingy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, no pictures :( I was in a hurry, and I felt like I was intruding in my own house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have already established a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;waving&lt;/span&gt; routine with my neighbor across the street (he showed me his house when I was still deciding). Almost &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I come by he is on his patio or in his yard. It is weird, because I usually don't know my neighbors and couldn't pick them out of a line-up. And I'm not even officially moved in, and we already know each other. Of course, if he was in a line-up and not on his property, I might not be able to pick him out either ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don't get spoiled with two posts in one day. It won't happen again. Probably.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-7445948300764483039?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/7445948300764483039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=7445948300764483039' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7445948300764483039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7445948300764483039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-feet-are-dirty.html' title='My feet are dirty'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-8575295609768126293</id><published>2007-08-14T07:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T08:08:39.357-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't need no stinking tile</title><content type='html'>The builder called me before I left for work this morning.  Apparently the tile that I picked out for the bathroom is no longer being made.  There is another tile that looks exactly the same, but a different maker I guess, but it is back-ordered for at least a month.  Not an option.  They have picked out 3 that are similar, and I need to go and choose one of them.  It is somewhat of a hassle, as the office is a good 20 minutes away, so that will be my entire lunch break.  But again, if this is the worst, then so be it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you at home playing along, here is my updated problem list:&lt;br /&gt;1) Brick looks the same as neighbors.&lt;br /&gt;2) Tile is discontinued.&lt;br /&gt;If you can name all the problems at the end of this home building exercise, then you may win a fabulous prize!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-8575295609768126293?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/8575295609768126293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=8575295609768126293' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8575295609768126293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8575295609768126293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-dont-need-no-stinking-tile.html' title='I don&apos;t need no stinking tile'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-7720716988318634003</id><published>2007-08-12T18:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T19:07:14.155-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Locked Out of House and Home</title><content type='html'>I went to show my brother the house, and we couldn't get in.  For the first time I've been there, the house was locked up, and all the windows were closed.  I guess they are getting ready to put the fixtures and other stealable stuff in.  Kinda disappointing.  Peeking in through the windows, I couldn't see much progress. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did see baseboards and the mantle up.  They moved the big piles of dirt.  I hope they are able to get a lot done this week.  From what I could tell, the electrician hadn't dug up the concrete to put the floor plug in.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So no new pictures today :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-7720716988318634003?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/7720716988318634003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=7720716988318634003' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7720716988318634003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/7720716988318634003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/08/locked-out-of-house-and-home.html' title='Locked Out of House and Home'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-3717534476188018821</id><published>2007-08-09T18:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T18:54:36.109-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Champagne Wishes and Caviar Dreams</title><content type='html'>Last night after work, I took my co-worker friend to see my house. We walked into the front door of my completely bricked house (more details of the house later), and before I could say, this is my living room, 5 other co-workers jumped out from behind the kitchen counters and yelled "Surprise!" They even had a bottle of champagne to toast my new place. They had all conspired against me to leave work a few minutes before and surprise me. Sure enough it worked! They parked in the shopping area around the corner. I work with some pretty cool people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funniest part was that they were all sweaty because they had to wait a few minutes for me to get there. In case you are not familiar with Texas weather, it is mighty hot at 6pm in a western facing room, with no air conditioning in August. They had planned to hide in the master bathroom, but it was way too hot. So they moved to the kitchen that at least had a window opened for breeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the surprise entrance, I gave them the grand tour. There wasn't much progress since Monday night. The brick looks completely finished to my untrained eye. They also finished the cabinets (still unstained). I think that was all that was done. I will be back on Saturday when my brother comes to town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, we went to a bar, that I was informed by new neighbor co-worker, will be my new hangout and had dinner and drinks. The bar was alright. Kinda old, but maybe it will win my heart and become like my Cheers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week without rain...someone alert the media! I hope they take advantage of this good, hot weather. I have locked in my interest rate, and must close by Sept. 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;. I told my apartment that I would like to stay through Sept. 8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, to give myself a cushion. Now all I need to do if finally pick an insurance agent, cancel all my utilities, set up all my utilities, do the change of address form, keep packing, hire the moving company, start being nicer to friends so the will help me move, get new checks printed, buy a fridge...and many many many other things, all the while work all week. Let the stress begin!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-3717534476188018821?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/3717534476188018821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=3717534476188018821' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3717534476188018821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3717534476188018821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/08/champagne-wishes-and-caviar-dreams.html' title='Champagne Wishes and Caviar Dreams'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-8169045184866265510</id><published>2007-08-06T20:06:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T08:01:03.802-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What A Difference A Day Makes</title><content type='html'>Or 4 days to be exact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me seeing the bricks and touching the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sheet rock&lt;/span&gt; with my own hands, but now I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;am a&lt;/span&gt; true believer that this house just might get finished before September comes. On Tuesday, I showed the house to my sister and her family. Sure, it was cool and you could tell what the rooms were, but it seemed no where close to being done in 3 weeks. &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rrh64xBOyLI/AAAAAAAAACE/_XZyuRzgcp8/s1600-h/house+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095958094019479730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rrh64xBOyLI/AAAAAAAAACE/_XZyuRzgcp8/s320/house+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bam&lt;/span&gt;! Sunday rolls along, I take my parents to see it, and the builder made a liar out of me. I was complaining that the brick hadn't even been started yet. But we turn the corner, and I exclaim "I have brick!". It is more than halfway done, I have a garage door, and all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;sheet rock&lt;/span&gt; is done. It seriously is all coming together. And I even stopped by Monday night, and the cabinets were in the kitchen and bathroom. The vanity that we discussed is in - I was afraid that since we just discussed it in passing, that maybe it would have slipped the builder's mind, but no, it was there just as we had discussed. Progress is a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rrh7DxBOyMI/AAAAAAAAACM/BoBGGWBtp1s/s1600-h/house+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095958282998040770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rrh7DxBOyMI/AAAAAAAAACM/BoBGGWBtp1s/s320/house+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why you may ask would I feel the need to go back Monday night when I was just there Sunday? Normally, I am not that interested in the day by day progress. But I had been talking to the builder, and I discussed wanting an electric outlet in the middle of my living room. I will most likely have my couch laid out in the middle of the floor, so if I want to put a lamp near the couch, I didn't want the cord to be dragged across the room. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to do that since my dad said they probably needed to know that before they laid the concrete. But I asked. He said they could do (for a small fee, of course). The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;electrician&lt;/span&gt; would just dig a little trench through the concrete and put the wires in it. And it wouldn't put them off schedule. So I took the plunge and said yes. So to answer my original question, I had to go the house to mark &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; spot I wanted the plug. It was hard to do since I'm not exactly sure where my furniture will all go. But I think the vicinity will work. I'm sure I'm the only one who finds it exciting, but it's my blog, so that's all I care about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There has been one disappointment for me though. The brick and stone look almost exactly like the house next door. The builder was supposed to guide me and tell me if it would look too similar. I guess I shouldn't trust a color-blind builder. Anyway, I think going with a dark brown trim instead of the light tan color will make the brick stand out and make a difference. If that is the worst that happens, then I will count myself lucky. But if I were my neighbor, I would kind of be mad at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am supposed to go back on Wednesday to show a friend. I wonder what surprise is in store for me then? Carpet and paint? Keep dreaming.&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/2656633859845982513-8169045184866265510?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/8169045184866265510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=8169045184866265510' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8169045184866265510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8169045184866265510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/08/what-difference-day-makes.html' title='What A Difference A Day Makes'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rrh64xBOyLI/AAAAAAAAACE/_XZyuRzgcp8/s72-c/house+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4611838266507870650</id><published>2007-07-23T19:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T08:01:01.193-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday's News, Out of Date, Old Hat, Tell Me Something I Don't Already Know</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RqVTCxBOyJI/AAAAAAAAAB0/2cG6CJdOnng/s1600-h/house+7-14.GIF"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This picture was taken on July 14, less than 2 weeks ago. Already it is out of date. Now I know how Eastern European map-makers felt in the 90's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RqVTCxBOyJI/AAAAAAAAAB0/2cG6CJdOnng/s1600-h/house+7-14.GIF"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090566260795558034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RqVTCxBOyJI/AAAAAAAAAB0/2cG6CJdOnng/s320/house+7-14.GIF" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Future neighbor and co-worker called me this evening as she was walking through the house. She said the roof is complete - the shingles are already up. The shingles that are nothing but a pile in the above picture. All the rooms have walls. The backdoor (with built in blinds - nice!) is in. There is a front door, but it is just the temporary construction door. She could see the insulation in the roof. All in all, it seems to be looking more like a house. I can't wait to go see it again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've started thinking about landscaping. I have no idea what plants are called...I guess I need to start researching that stuff. And how to take care of a yard. My parents said they can start me off with some hydrangeas and banana trees (not sure about the latter). I know I like Bradford Pear trees, but I have no idea how much they cost. I have also seen a lot of small trees (bushes?) around that have pink blooms. I thought I knew the name of them, but it just escaped me. I wonder if the apartment people would notice if I just dug one up and took it with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On another note...same friend went to Shreveport last weekend. I gave her $5 to bet on black. She said if I won, she would play the winnings on craps, which she said she was good at. I just figured she would play (or not), and the money would get mixed in with her winnings or losings. But no, she is honest. She played, it was black, and then she turned my $5 into $27.50! I told her if she had made it to $50, I would have upgrade to marble counter tops :)&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/2656633859845982513-4611838266507870650?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4611838266507870650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4611838266507870650' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4611838266507870650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4611838266507870650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/07/yesterdays-news-out-of-date-old-hat.html' title='Yesterday&apos;s News, Out of Date, Old Hat, Tell Me Something I Don&apos;t Already Know'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RqVTCxBOyJI/AAAAAAAAAB0/2cG6CJdOnng/s72-c/house+7-14.GIF' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-3146698908388400316</id><published>2007-07-15T13:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-15T14:08:04.495-06:00</updated><title type='text'>More progress, and a vacation</title><content type='html'>I'm afraid now comes the point where all I do is post updated pictures of my house.  Nothing exciting to say, just that it is beginning more and more to look like a house.   Sorry.  But you choose to come to this site.  I'm not forcing anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, actually you won't even get any new pictures for probably a week.  I did drive by the house on Saturday and walked around and took several pictures.  But whenever I try to upload them on to this site, it doesn't work from my home computer.  I can only do it from my work computer (shh).  But....I won't be at work at all this week.  Yes, that is right, I'm actually taking off a whole week.  I can't remember the last time I took off for a whole week.  Lately, I have been taking off for 2-3 days plus a weekend.  So this should be fun.  But sadly, that means that your life will be boring without my semi-weekly updates.  You can do it!  Be strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let me use my eloquent writing style to convey to you the progress.  I have windows!  I have a fireplace!  I have 2 bathtubs and a shower!  And I have solid walls all and a solid roof!  I have litter all around and in my house.  Dr. Pepper bottles, Skoal cans, Big Gulp cups, a half eaten Twinkie (someone must have run for cover during a rain shower  because I can think of no other reason to abandon a Twinkie).  I have neighbors.  I think retired couple #3 on the block moved in next door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next picture I hope to post will be of me relaxed and freshly tanned.  I know you will be bored without me, but go read a book or something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-3146698908388400316?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/3146698908388400316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=3146698908388400316' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3146698908388400316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3146698908388400316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/07/more-progress-and-vacation.html' title='More progress, and a vacation'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-8029408867199583541</id><published>2007-07-10T18:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T18:34:18.951-06:00</updated><title type='text'>On Schedule</title><content type='html'>The builder said that we are still on schedule to finish this puppy by the end of August!  I hope he doesn't mean the literal end of August, giving me 1 day to move.  My apartment hasn't been very excited about the possibility of extending my lease for a week or so.  Apparently, with them, it is a full month or bust.  I'm hoping that I don't have to pay the month-to-month rate for September as well as August.  Although moving in slowly and leisurely is a nice way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After saying that I can do no more upgrades, I am at the top of my budget, no I don't want any fancy marble, (I'm broke, how many more ways can I say it, Mister) I did cave in on one thing.  But it is to increase the energy-efficiency of the house, which should pay for itself over the course of X years.  So I'm forking over another $500 for extra insulation in the walls of the house.  I guess the gas grill will have to wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-8029408867199583541?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/8029408867199583541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=8029408867199583541' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8029408867199583541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8029408867199583541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/07/on-schedule.html' title='On Schedule'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4464544606980424884</id><published>2007-07-08T18:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-08T18:48:41.873-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Drink your milk, little house</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RpGF45xJfRI/AAAAAAAAABs/wswTzuZRVxg/s1600-h/Frame+2+7-8-07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RpGF45xJfRI/AAAAAAAAABs/wswTzuZRVxg/s320/Frame+2+7-8-07.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084992666904132882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing my house being built reminds me of those milk commercials that shows the little boy growing up into a man from 15 years ago.  It is pretty neat to see the progress, and being able to see the skeleton of the house.  Just a few short weeks ago, this was nothing but a plot of land.  It's as close to the miracle of birth that I've experienced personally ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of birth, I watched Knocked Up today.  It was funny, but I don't know if I would say it was the funniest movie I've seen in the last 5 years (which someone else has said).  But it was cute and sad and funny and gross.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4464544606980424884?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4464544606980424884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4464544606980424884' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4464544606980424884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4464544606980424884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/07/drink-your-milk-little-house.html' title='Drink your milk, little house'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/RpGF45xJfRI/AAAAAAAAABs/wswTzuZRVxg/s72-c/Frame+2+7-8-07.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-9077113423569362331</id><published>2007-07-07T12:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-07T12:52:33.595-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Ro_f9ZxJfQI/AAAAAAAAABk/c4PX3n3w13A/s1600-h/floorplan2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084528750306622722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Ro_f9ZxJfQI/AAAAAAAAABk/c4PX3n3w13A/s400/floorplan2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Ro_fy5xJfPI/AAAAAAAAABc/FMLiiFPo7ns/s1600-h/floorplan2.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As requested, here is the floorplan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how easily it will be to read.   The living, dining and kitchen are lined up, and the bedrooms are on the other half of the house.&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/2656633859845982513-9077113423569362331?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/9077113423569362331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=9077113423569362331' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/9077113423569362331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/9077113423569362331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/07/as-requested-here-is-floorplan.html' title=''/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Ro_f9ZxJfQI/AAAAAAAAABk/c4PX3n3w13A/s72-c/floorplan2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-5486493514431398609</id><published>2007-07-04T15:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T16:17:12.453-06:00</updated><title type='text'>ensam och övergiven</title><content type='html'>I've heard it is most hard being single around the holidays and at weddings. I've experienced that. Company Christmas parties are always a trying event to go to alone. However, I think the weekend after a break-up is probably more difficult...the moment you realize that you have nothing planned with your friends because you had gotten into the habit of spending almost every weekend with that guy. Even if you didn't do anything special with him, you knew that you had someone to be lazy with. That was one of the good things - you didn't have to plan - weekends are couple time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that being said, I have found yet another event that makes being alone feel lonely. Going to Ikea. To be more precise - going to Ikea on the 4th of July. Maybe it was because it was a holiday (see first point). But going to Ikea is not a holiday tradition in my family. Maybe it is for the Johannsons or Gustafssons. Whatever the reason, every young married couple, and some not so young, decided like me to go celebrate our nation's birthday by purchasing cube-shaped furniture in "easy to get home" boxes. Who said men don't like to shop? You couldn't tell by the number of family men there today. I guess it makes sense. Ikea's reasonable prices and modern furniture are a good pairing with young couples furnishing their first home or apartment, or new parents getting ideas for their nursery. And nothing like a day off in the middle of the work week draws busy husbands and wives to shop together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Virginia isn't just for lovers - Ikea is too. The whole store concept practically screams the need to shop in pairs. Take for instance the convenient "self-serve" furniture area. Unless your self is a 6-foot Swedish man named Lars, the self-serve section is not that easy to maneuver. A kindly lady did help to me put the 2 boxes into my cart. For some reason my entertainment center required not 1 but 2 heavy boxes. Then, after checking out, comes the delima of how to put the 2 boxes into my car. Outside of the store, they have a loading dock, which your husband (or that seemed to be the designated driver) can drive your car to, and then supposedly there is help to load your car. I never saw anyone to help other than already claimed and married men. Besides, am I supposed to leave my 2 boxes there while I go get my car? I don't think so. I mean I got the last of the entertainment centers. Someone could slowly steal it from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decide to take the cart to my car and attempt to load myself. While walking the trek back to my car (I parked in J lot), I noticed a kindly man helping a lady and her girls load something in her truck. He then moved on to go home with his lovely wife and kids. It seems that Ikea brings out the best in others. Except for me. It took me a few minutes to load these bad boys into my car, but no one stopped to help me. Don't cry for me, Argentina. I survived. Just a few scrapes and I'm sure I will be sore tomorrow. But I did manage it. On my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't decide if I should put it together now, or wait until I move.  I want to see what it looks like, but I'm not sure if I have the patience right now to handle the assembly of 2 boxes.  Or the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;If you are dying to see what the 2.5 hour and $6 in tolls hassle was for, please click here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ikea.com/us/en/catalog/products/10116910"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.ikea.com/us/en/catalog/products/10116910&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-5486493514431398609?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/5486493514431398609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=5486493514431398609' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5486493514431398609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/5486493514431398609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/07/ensam-och-vergiven.html' title='ensam och övergiven'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-3849459846590357098</id><published>2007-07-03T10:50:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T11:00:40.218-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday Thirteen:  Revisited</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I know it is not Thursday, but I am bored today, and can think of nothing else to blog about.  I was skimming through my old posts and came across this little checklist, and thought I would compare how I did in choosing my house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirteen Things that I want/don't want in my new house:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1…. I don't want the garage to be the dominant view from the front of the house. &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(not off to a good start)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2…. Crown molding &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(I think there is some...not sure.  But that is something I can add later)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3…. Built in bookshelves and nooks &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(umm..nope)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4…. 3 bedrooms (1 an office with french doors) and 2 baths &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(It is 3/2 but no french doors)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5…. A utility room big enough to put the litter box. I'm tired of it being in my bathroom &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(I'm hoping I can swing this, but won't know until I move in)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6…. A fairly new house...less than 5 years would be awesome...less than 10 great...less than 20 acceptable...less than 100 - better be free &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(A whole-hearted Yes! - it's not even born yet, in case this is the first posting you've read)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7…. No formal living area/dining - would probably be wasted on me &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(I'm on a roll!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8…. Not too big of a yard &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(Uh...understatement of the year, which my dad was quick to point out)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9…. Not too small of a yard - don't want to be looking into the neighbor's windows from my window&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; (Hey, I'm not Goldilocks, can't have everything just right)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10…. Big bathroom. And I want a window in the bathroom. And a window in the kitchen &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(Yes, yes, and yes again)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11…. Big master closet! &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(Yes! I'm not even entirely sure I will have to spill into the guest closet)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12…. Hopefully the yard will already have some basic landscaping done. &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(Well, the builder has to put in a little bit in the front yard.  And I have an old tree in the back!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13…. At least 1 bay window. I would love to have a sitting area in the master bedroom.&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; (maybe on my next house!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I need to figure out which of these are must haves, and which are negotiable. &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;(I guess the proof of that is in the pudding)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-3849459846590357098?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/3849459846590357098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=3849459846590357098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3849459846590357098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/3849459846590357098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/07/thursday-thirteen-revisited.html' title='Thursday Thirteen:  Revisited'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-4627808660062343644</id><published>2007-07-01T19:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T19:11:58.244-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A strong foundation</title><content type='html'>Somehow during the downpours that have happened &lt;strong&gt;every day&lt;/strong&gt; in the last 2 weeks, I now have a foundation!  I would have a picture, but it was raining when I went to take my parents to see it (and besides the batteries in the camera were dead).  It makes the yard seem so small, which it really is.  But at least it is progress.  I was half expecting to see nothing new, and really who could I blame?  The news said that some builders were reporting being 4-8 days behind.  Others said as much as 4 weeks.  Yikes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-4627808660062343644?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/4627808660062343644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=4627808660062343644' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4627808660062343644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/4627808660062343644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/07/strong-foundation.html' title='A strong foundation'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-783503007018707055</id><published>2007-06-27T14:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T14:57:39.642-06:00</updated><title type='text'>8 Random Things</title><content type='html'>I read this on a few blogs, so thought I would share 8 random things about me that you may or may not know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 - I have my credit card number memorized, including expiration date.  I guess I buy too much online.  Or else I have a hereto unknown ability to remember number sequences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 - I have 2 birthmarks.  I used to think that made me special, that somehow I was born twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 - I like to make lists, and I will even write things on the list that have already happened so that I can mark them off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 - Things I wanted to be when I grew up in order:  teacher (I was waaaay young, that has changed), a nurse, a vet, a cartographer (until I figured all the land had been discovered and everything would be done on computers anyway), and then an architect .  Then just someone working in an office, but I didn't know what.  I guess that part came true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 - I think my bellybutton looks like an eyeball - therefore my stomach looks like Cyclops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 - I watch shows on the Disney channel when nothing else good is on.  Currently, I'm trying to figure out what The Naked Brothers Band is about.  (Please don't tell anyone)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7 - I like Dr. Pepper that has been sitting in a hot garage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 - I don't really like tomotoes, but I love tomato juice, tomato sauce, and I like ketchup.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-783503007018707055?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/783503007018707055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=783503007018707055' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/783503007018707055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/783503007018707055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/06/8-random-things.html' title='8 Random Things'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-6024303198804138894</id><published>2007-06-23T13:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T14:25:27.476-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I saw the sign</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rn2ARAEvYhI/AAAAAAAAABM/OeqqY1ietZY/s1600-h/sold+sign.GIF"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079356984309801490" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rn2ARAEvYhI/AAAAAAAAABM/OeqqY1ietZY/s200/sold+sign.GIF" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; SOLD! In big, bold letters.  Ok, not so big letters in this picture.  But they were really big in my mind.  They were referring to my land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ditches for the plumbing have been dug, and passed the first inspection. The slab should be poured very shortly. Once that is up, the framing can be done, and then apparently, the rest is a piece of cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who would have thought I am such a decisive person? In less than 2 hours, I picked out brick, stone, trim and mortar for the outside, as well as carpet, paint, vinyl, and counter tops throughout the inside. It wasn't quite as over-whelming as I thought it would be. It felt good to know what I didn't like, so I could eliminate half of the little swatches to go through. And once you pick one thing, like the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;counter tops&lt;/span&gt;, you have to pick things that match - which eliminates many more things. I am glad I brought my friend with me, but I felt like I made almost all of the decisions. It helped that we had similar tastes on most everything. It was nice to hear reassurance that the things went well together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It felt good, and it's starting to feel like my house. Finally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rn1_KwEvYgI/AAAAAAAAABE/eBDdKvJA0-o/s1600-h/brick.GIF"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079355777423991298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rn1_KwEvYgI/AAAAAAAAABE/eBDdKvJA0-o/s200/brick.GIF" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (This is what my house will look like when finished. Well, at least the brick and stone combo. Please ignore the exquisite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;architectural&lt;/span&gt; detail in this at least half-million dollar home. It is for reference purposes only. Actual results will vary.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rn2AsAEvYiI/AAAAAAAAABU/D5vnZ1-qQgo/s1600-h/brick-closeup.GIF"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079357448166269474" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rn2AsAEvYiI/AAAAAAAAABU/D5vnZ1-qQgo/s200/brick-closeup.GIF" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(And here is a close-up of the brick. Let's hope it is in stock!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-6024303198804138894?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/6024303198804138894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=6024303198804138894' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6024303198804138894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/6024303198804138894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-saw-sign.html' title='I saw the sign'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rn2ARAEvYhI/AAAAAAAAABM/OeqqY1ietZY/s72-c/sold+sign.GIF' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-573589728978459935</id><published>2007-06-21T10:57:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T11:09:32.575-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a really messy signature.</title><content type='html'>And it will be witnessed for all to see in triplicate in so many forms, if today is any indication of the near future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made the decision and bought the lot!  Things are starting to happen.  I met with the mortgage lady today, and had to sign mucho stuffo and this isn't even the real paperwork.  I don't have a fixed interest rate yet, and they can't do the appraisal until the house is built, so this is just preliminary stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drove by my lot, yes MY lot, this morning too.  Not much progress has been made this week, except for big piles of dirt have been shifted.  I really think the builder was overly optimistic when he said a closing date of Aug. 15th.  Especially with no end in sight to this rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the beginning of the real decisions start now.  I'm meeting with the builder on Saturday morning to at least pick out the brick and stonework.  If we have time, we will start on the carpet, paint, vinyl, cabinets, counters, and all else.  Is it bad that I already don't really care about all this?  Maybe it's just not real yet until I see the samples.  Or maybe it is just too overwhelming for me.  I'm bringing an opinionated friend with me on Saturday.  I'm not going to let her make the decisions for me, but I want a second opinion, and someone there who can make a decision if it is something that I really do not care about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A personal distraction is now gone (well not gone, but decisions have been made and some closure has been had, so let the healing begin!), so I hope that I can focus more on the good news of the house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2656633859845982513-573589728978459935?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/573589728978459935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=573589728978459935' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/573589728978459935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/573589728978459935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-have-really-messy-signature.html' title='I have a really messy signature.'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656633859845982513.post-8469319185325646024</id><published>2007-06-10T14:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T08:33:01.570-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Speak now or forever hold your peace</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rm1cnAEvYeI/AAAAAAAAAA0/R3-Soof58Rw/s1600-h/similar+house.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rm1cZgEvYdI/AAAAAAAAAAs/0pIvyIZfhOg/s1600-h/lot+-+front.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074813948292719058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rm1cZgEvYdI/AAAAAAAAAAs/0pIvyIZfhOg/s320/lot+-+front.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sleeping on it to decide if this is where I want to sleep for the indefinite future. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rm1cvwEvYfI/AAAAAAAAAA8/4MOaszKHWkE/s1600-h/similar+house.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074814330544808434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rm1cvwEvYfI/AAAAAAAAAA8/4MOaszKHWkE/s320/similar+house.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You will have to use your imagination, cuz I wont' be sleeping on dirt obviously. In 70 days, they can turn this lot into this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Does 70 days sound reasonable for you experienced new home buyers? Sounds soon to me. That pushes back my ideal moving date by at least a month. But for a new home, I guess it is worth it. One more summer month that I will have my apartment pool available to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I told the builders that I would think about it over the weekend. And barring any angels coming to me in my sleep tonight predicting 7 years of drought and desolation, I will most likely go forward with this plan. Honestly, there are many appealing things about this house and builder, and location. Of course there are also drawbacks. I keep telling myself that this decision does not have to be for the rest of my life. But it can be if I want it.&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/2656633859845982513-8469319185325646024?l=kidtablenomore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/feeds/8469319185325646024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2656633859845982513&amp;postID=8469319185325646024' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8469319185325646024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2656633859845982513/posts/default/8469319185325646024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kidtablenomore.blogspot.com/2007/06/speak-now-or-forever-hold-your-peace.html' title='Speak now or forever hold your peace'/><author><name>No Longer At The Kids' Table</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10966268015201569851</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_b_99W9yYFt8/Rm1cZgEvYdI/AAAAAAAAAAs/0pIvyIZfhOg/s72-c/lot+-+front.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
