<?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-20531447</id><updated>2011-04-21T10:41:23.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tamaravk</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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>166</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20531447.post-1103831777713361480</id><published>2008-02-13T09:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T10:05:01.694-08:00</updated><title type='text'>(Happy) Valentines</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;I just made my letters a sickeningly cute pink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;I just want to say Happy Valentines to everyone who is single.&lt;br /&gt;Because Valentines is like salt in the wound.&lt;br /&gt;Just stay away from the malls ladies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a poem one of my kingdom seekers told me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roses are Red&lt;br /&gt;Violets are Plastic&lt;br /&gt;You are Great&lt;br /&gt;But I'm Fantastic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-1103831777713361480?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/1103831777713361480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=1103831777713361480' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1103831777713361480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1103831777713361480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2008/02/happy-valentines.html' title='(Happy) Valentines'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20531447.post-5573229784958298116</id><published>2008-01-17T05:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T05:30:23.068-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>As of Yesterday -I am the proud owner of Noritake Dishes. Including Nappies. lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also happy to report that bridesmaid dress shopping is DONE. For this wedding anyway. The four of us chose different dresses, but they are going to be the same color and are all floor length with some type of draping around the waist..lol. I think we will be stunning. And I'll definitely wear mine again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may possibly be taking a long trip to a far away destination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think I'm the happiest I've been in a long time. "There are like, beams of sunshine coming off of you. "&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-5573229784958298116?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/5573229784958298116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=5573229784958298116' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/5573229784958298116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/5573229784958298116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2008/01/as-of-yesterday-i-am-proud-owner-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20531447.post-1154308824784967838</id><published>2007-12-11T18:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T18:59:50.054-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to the family Douglas Whyintortness</title><content type='html'>Katie just came home from catechism and dropped a bright dragon on my lap...it's extremely bright, your eyes need to refocus to look at it. Lots of shimmer and ...brightness.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. he's a stuffed dragon, and his name is Douglas Whyintortness. If you are Katie's friend you may meet him. wow. my sister is crazy. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-1154308824784967838?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/1154308824784967838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=1154308824784967838' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1154308824784967838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1154308824784967838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/12/welcome-to-family-douglas-whyintortness.html' title='Welcome to the family Douglas Whyintortness'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-4328698686390093025</id><published>2007-11-19T16:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T16:24:05.752-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll be home for Christmas...ok?</title><content type='html'>I have extremely talented siblings.  I can't get over Laura's ability to draw, and Katie brings so much joy into our home with her humour. Caleb can read and take in knowledge at a mind boggling speed, Zach is very witty, Benjamin can make a better paper snowflake than a 25 year old, and Peter can spot a leather coat from hundreds of metres away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright...Peter has other talents as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to a friend of mine about how you are attracted to people who have qualities you wish you had.  It's true...because we mimic eachother. Even natural leaders will mimic other people if they are admiring them. That's what I think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-4328698686390093025?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/4328698686390093025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=4328698686390093025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/4328698686390093025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/4328698686390093025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/11/ill-be-home-for-christmasok.html' title='I&apos;ll be home for Christmas...ok?'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-7075628443480417104</id><published>2007-11-16T05:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T05:25:21.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams...inconsistant angel things</title><content type='html'>I had a dream last night... (and remembered it) about getting my paperwork done for writing my licensing exam. I was at highschool, and all the teachers were lined up on the front steps, and all the kids were scattered over the lawn and when the bell went everyone ran off in different directions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One funny thing is the school building...it's not the highschool I went to. I've somehow invented it, and it's been in my dreams before. I could draw you the lay-out I've dreamt of it so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to the dream, I ran off in a direction too, and walked for blocks and blocks. Then I walked back when I realized I had left my purse and had no money and no cellphone. When I got back the teachers signed a few places in my book and I was off again. I have no idea what happened to my purse...or my cell phone...and I remembered wondering why I didn't get all this done while I was actually IN highschool so I wouldn't have to do all this walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreams are crazy. But I think it pointed out to me how I feel about this paperwork. It's kinda stressing me out. In fact, my eye is twitching. Not right now, but occasionally. Last time this happened it lasted several months and had Anton convinced I was crazy. (Before that he had just assumed I was, haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you know that Christmas is less than 6 weeks away and that means it's ok to play your cds and start shopping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-7075628443480417104?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/7075628443480417104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=7075628443480417104' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/7075628443480417104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/7075628443480417104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/11/dreamsinconsistant-angel-things.html' title='Dreams...inconsistant angel things'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-1383099933391232019</id><published>2007-11-07T10:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T10:51:39.678-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Alright...the last thing I should be doing on the day I decided to stop putting off studying is blog more than once...but a person needs an occasional break right? Let the knowledge seep in a bit? haha I'd say Eumelanin and Pheomelanin can wait a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to post again, I read something that hit a chord with me.&lt;br /&gt;I'm reading "Look Me in the Eye" by John Robinson. He has Aspergers Syndrome, but didn't find out until late in life. This meant a rough and difficult childhood trying to pretend he was like other people and wondering why he wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;   He gives an example in the book of trying to respond properly to a conversation with a woman he knew. He says the wrong thing and ends up offending the woman. The thing she said to him was, "One of my girlfriends is having an affair. And the guy rides a motercycle just like yours!" He had no idea how to respond to that, because she didn't say who it was, so he's wondering why she'd tell him. And her sentences weren't connected in any way he could see except for maybe because he has a motercycle he should be having an affair too...??  He ends up saying, "Which girlfriend is that?" and she is immediatly suspicious and asks him why he'd ask that. (pretty confusing)&lt;br /&gt;  He says after giving the example that he realized later that she'd said it for his entertainment, to get a reaction out of him. He was neither entertained or had any reaction...he was just confused.&lt;br /&gt;  He says farther on, "In my opinion, people should not make statements unless they are prepared to respond to questions about the words they utter. But the world doesn't always work that way." He knew by then that asking about which girlfriend it was was the wrong thing to say, but thinks it &lt;em&gt;should&lt;/em&gt; be open season since she brought it up.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I've personally run into this a bit lately, people will say something to me, but I'm not suposed to question any of it, just listen and absorb and somehow understand. So I agree with him. If you don't want to reveal something, just don't mention it at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-1383099933391232019?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/1383099933391232019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=1383099933391232019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1383099933391232019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1383099933391232019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/11/alright.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-4330544272885037973</id><published>2007-11-07T05:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T05:59:05.769-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm writing my licensing exam soon</title><content type='html'>It's time to get serious about this studying thing, Tamara...no more putting it off. Otherwise it will be like throwing a hundred dollers off the side of a bridge and watching it float away down the river. Or like using $100 to wall paper a dollhouse. Or like making $100 into little airplanes to throw at people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually don't care about that so much, I just want to pass it the first time. And a high mark would be nice too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-4330544272885037973?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/4330544272885037973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=4330544272885037973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/4330544272885037973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/4330544272885037973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/11/im-writing-my-licensing-exam-soon.html' title='I&apos;m writing my licensing exam soon'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-4855589722721159961</id><published>2007-11-05T04:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T05:05:46.615-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends :)</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I did something that to anyone who didn't know me would look silly. Really silly. The cool thing was, the people who witnessed it &lt;em&gt;did&lt;/em&gt; know me, and they smiled and laughed and didn't condemn me at all. And I walked away laughing too because it is so nice to be known that well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-4855589722721159961?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/4855589722721159961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=4855589722721159961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/4855589722721159961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/4855589722721159961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/11/friends.html' title='Friends :)'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-3902330641434863449</id><published>2007-10-28T09:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T09:51:32.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I feel better</title><content type='html'>Solution:  A good talk with Funmi. &lt;br /&gt;Issue: I had a very full brain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-3902330641434863449?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/3902330641434863449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=3902330641434863449' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3902330641434863449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3902330641434863449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-feel-better.html' title='I feel better'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-3936741968591876495</id><published>2007-10-24T06:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T07:07:36.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>AAAAAAHHHH&lt;br /&gt;Life is so strange when friends get married and have babies.&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-3936741968591876495?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/3936741968591876495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=3936741968591876495' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3936741968591876495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3936741968591876495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/10/aaaaaahhhh-life-is-so-strange-when.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-3801273287313124792</id><published>2007-10-22T14:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T14:56:55.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'>wooohooo</title><content type='html'>Here's to nursing the artististic side of me back to life after a long sickness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Insert drawing of Martini here}&lt;br /&gt;{Insert drawing of Rihanna here}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-3801273287313124792?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/3801273287313124792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=3801273287313124792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3801273287313124792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3801273287313124792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/10/wooohooo.html' title='wooohooo'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-1507385109433884555</id><published>2007-10-18T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T16:57:56.139-07:00</updated><title type='text'>)</title><content type='html'>Imagine you are outside&lt;br /&gt;you are on a boat&lt;br /&gt;and its a big boat&lt;br /&gt;carrying 250 people&lt;br /&gt;and there is a breeze on your face&lt;br /&gt;the kind of breeze that smells like sunshine&lt;br /&gt;And you know there are people you love&lt;br /&gt;on the boat with you&lt;br /&gt;But right now is just a moment for you&lt;br /&gt;And you can hear the water hitting the boat&lt;br /&gt;But you are dry&lt;br /&gt;and you see the splashes&lt;br /&gt;but you are exactly the right temperature&lt;br /&gt;Because the sun is warm&lt;br /&gt;and it's sparkling off the water&lt;br /&gt;enough to make you squint&lt;br /&gt;And you feel very peaceful&lt;br /&gt;Though the boat is speeding through the water&lt;br /&gt;And a huge burst of energy hits you&lt;br /&gt;As you take a deep breath&lt;br /&gt;And Everything is perfect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And God is so Good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-1507385109433884555?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/1507385109433884555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=1507385109433884555' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1507385109433884555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1507385109433884555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/10/blog-post_18.html' title=')'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-8582343782449958675</id><published>2007-10-16T05:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T05:39:54.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>:)</title><content type='html'>"I had teenagers helping me chop lettuce the other night, and they just never stop, they just keep chopping until there's nothing left. So if you want lettuce theres lots."  -My Mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. I am really happy right now&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-8582343782449958675?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/8582343782449958675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=8582343782449958675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/8582343782449958675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/8582343782449958675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/10/blog-post_16.html' title=':)'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-7511429287168019144</id><published>2007-10-13T16:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-13T16:13:19.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>&gt;:)</title><content type='html'>Next week Friday I'm doing hair for Amy and Steve's wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I LOVE THAT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-7511429287168019144?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/7511429287168019144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=7511429287168019144' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/7511429287168019144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/7511429287168019144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/10/blog-post.html' title='&gt;:)'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-5359023803869586780</id><published>2007-10-12T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T19:17:44.914-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, who goes out with a famous musician?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why is life such a roller coaster?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why do I have to be two kinds of sick at the same time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why can't I just understand everything and be content and full of trust in my savior?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-5359023803869586780?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/5359023803869586780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=5359023803869586780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/5359023803869586780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/5359023803869586780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/10/so-who-goes-out-with-famous-musician.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-3353108716649101032</id><published>2007-10-09T07:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T07:42:01.425-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All my posts are about kids..</title><content type='html'>My little brother Zach is 13...and has the peach fuzz mustache. It's not thaat bad, but I tease him about it anyway and how he needs to shave soo bad. On one such time recently, I found out that Zach has no intentions of shaving anytime soon, but my younger brother Benjamin, who is 7, often shaves. During the night after he's been put to bed and my parents are still downstairs. And he uses Mom's shaver. And he calls them "silly times".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ummmm..guys are weird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-3353108716649101032?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/3353108716649101032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=3353108716649101032' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3353108716649101032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3353108716649101032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/10/all-my-posts-are-about-kids.html' title='All my posts are about kids..'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-8657477650880309085</id><published>2007-10-03T06:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T06:57:49.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Natural With Babies</title><content type='html'>I've been told most of my life that I'll be a natural when it comes to babies because I grew up in a big family.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you were told this too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to think this is really not true. I had severe anxiety taking care of one little baby on Sunday evening at church. Actually, it was more like 2 or 3 babies at times, but all the trauma was with the one. haha.&lt;br /&gt;The mother, leaving the nursery says over her shoulder, " Just feed him this bottle and give him a quick diaper change before you lay him on his stomach to sleep"&lt;br /&gt;Easy! Simple! I've fed babies before, I've changed diapers before, I've put babies to bed before. I was changing diapers from the time I was 7 years old. I was carting babies around on my hip from the time I could walk. I was mistaken for my little brothers mother about a hundred times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, holding a baby and a bottle at the same time is impossible. So is sitting yourself down with a baby who had a couple spit up blankets around him with the bottle on the floor. So is sitting down with just the baby while he spits up on you. twice.&lt;br /&gt;Eventually I got settled, and he was SO cute while I fed him. just staring at me, smiling occasionally. I felt a bit better for awhile. haha&lt;br /&gt;The diaper change...ok, so this little baby has an older brother who is still in diapers. Yes, I put the big diaper on the little baby. But I changed it once I figured out what happened. I was embarassed just thinking about his mom undressing him later and laughing at me.&lt;br /&gt;So, baby is fed, changed, still happy, maybe a bit droopy eyed, so I went to lay him down in one of those crazy nursery cribs. I was thinking how awkward it was to lay a baby on it's stomach at shoulder height. You'd get serious muscle having a child, because as they grow your muscles grow.Have you ever thought about that?  Anyway, I was also thinking that I remember being told never to lay a baby on it's stomach because they could smother. Not a calming thought, especially as he right at that moment decided to flop his head down and make little gasping sounds. I said, " What! are you choking!?" and he lifts his head and looks at me and oh man... you know the look of a baby on its stomach lifting it's head? it's funny. make sure you see it sometime.&lt;br /&gt;Eventually he was settled, and didn't cry that much...and I think it all worked out in the end. I left the nursery thinking I wasn't going to be trying that again anytime soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I kind of miss it already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-8657477650880309085?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/8657477650880309085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=8657477650880309085' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/8657477650880309085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/8657477650880309085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/10/natural-with-babies.html' title='A Natural With Babies'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-7107291798795733838</id><published>2007-09-27T16:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T16:06:09.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Apologize</title><content type='html'>The song by Timberland and One Republic is enchanting...I really like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-7107291798795733838?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/7107291798795733838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=7107291798795733838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/7107291798795733838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/7107291798795733838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/09/apologize.html' title='Apologize'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-698332630574906693</id><published>2007-09-25T06:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T06:33:53.898-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mmmhmmm...</title><content type='html'>This is the most beautiful time of year...I can't believe how blown away I am every Fall by the colors and the crispness of the air.  I love the smell of Winter when I first step outside, and the wind blowing the leaves down all around me. I love starting to wear sweaters again. I love that even though it's a time where everything seems to be dying, there is so much hope because everything is being preserved and protected until Spring comes. When a Christian goes through a struggle, God blankets him, and prepares him, and is the hope for him that Spring is coming again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-698332630574906693?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/698332630574906693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=698332630574906693' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/698332630574906693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/698332630574906693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/09/mmmhmmm.html' title='mmmhmmm...'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-8222316476141720931</id><published>2007-09-20T18:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T18:03:11.684-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OUCH</title><content type='html'>I am caught between two people who I feel a very strong responsibility for.&lt;br /&gt;Neither of them seem to know it though, that I feel so strongly for them.&lt;br /&gt;It's rough sometimes, trying to do the right thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very happy right now though. I know God is taking care of me...Mom told me when I have a bunch of kids I'll learn what patience is..but I think God is teaching me patience right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-8222316476141720931?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/8222316476141720931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=8222316476141720931' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/8222316476141720931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/8222316476141720931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/09/ouch.html' title='OUCH'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-1129301845951273815</id><published>2007-09-11T07:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T07:32:37.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Disappointment</title><content type='html'>If you are optimistic, hope returns, and dreams grow easily, and you can be a happy person even after you've been hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is, when there is a pattern of disappointments in your life, they hurt the same everytime because you start from the same position. Like you've been re-programmed everytime and anything you learned that could prevent a crash is deleted.  My pattern of disappointments is in the men I've been interested in in my life time. It's always the same thing. I hate generalizing, but it's always the same thing. I feel like I'm putting myself through this cycle because I'm missing something. ( As if I could just figure it out and solve all my problems )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often wonder how many times I will be let down before I just quit. I've never said to myself that I've given up on my dream of a husband and kids...I've joked about it...but it's never completely crushed. I wonder if that will happen. If I'll build up some walls and hide away somewhere. Right now I kind of want to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-1129301845951273815?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/1129301845951273815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=1129301845951273815' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1129301845951273815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1129301845951273815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/09/disappointment.html' title='Disappointment'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-2227115242935162026</id><published>2007-09-06T18:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T05:40:22.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer</title><content type='html'>I still live here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to summerize my summer...for my sake. you can read it if you want to. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May 25-26 Young Adults conference (camping)&lt;br /&gt;June 2-4 Camping with the Gillelan's at the Pinery.&lt;br /&gt;June 9 Burgers with the Grandparents&lt;br /&gt;June 23-25 At Julie's in Wyoming and shopping in Michigan!&lt;br /&gt;June 26-28 Kingdom Seeker camping at Valens&lt;br /&gt;June 28 Got my full G...I know..4 years later...&lt;br /&gt;July 15 Set up decorations for VBS 2007 with Kristen&lt;br /&gt;July 21-23 Brockville to visit Isaac and Richard&lt;br /&gt;July 28-30 The girl cousins camping at Inverhuron&lt;br /&gt;August 4 Living Worship at Anton's church&lt;br /&gt;August 6 Balmoral conference..my 21st birthday...&lt;br /&gt;August 7 Martini house bridal shower for Jolene and Laura&lt;br /&gt;August 10 Laura and Dan's wedding!&lt;br /&gt;Aug 11-12 Young People's camping at Pinery&lt;br /&gt;August 17 Living worship in the Park&lt;br /&gt;August 18 Calvin's birthday party&lt;br /&gt;Aug 27-31 Tamarack 2007!&lt;br /&gt;Aug 31-Sept 3 Family camping at Killbear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh..I camped 6 times. that's a lot. thats more times than I went snowboarding last winter. a lot more. in fact, I think I only went snowboarding twice.&lt;br /&gt;For September..I'm becoming a runner. I'm also excited about boots. I love boots. And I'm definitely going snowboarding more than twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer..It was lovely..it can slow down a bit, I'm alright with that. I think I'm looking forward to seeing my friends again, because for some reason they are move available in the school months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-2227115242935162026?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/2227115242935162026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=2227115242935162026' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/2227115242935162026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/2227115242935162026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/09/summer.html' title='Summer'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-4441245102638484506</id><published>2007-08-10T18:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T18:20:12.321-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At Dan and Laura's Wedding</title><content type='html'>It was called a "Wetting" (speaker was four, and sprained his finger just in time for the wetting)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't rain at all but the grass was soaking, like walking on sponges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Deboer family has lots of people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The GBS girls did a Laura Skit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laura makes one gorgeous glowing bride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan's vows made me cry. (right after I had said to a friend " I didn't cry at my best friend's wedding or even my brother's wedding") (brag brag)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Laura, there has always been tension between us...You were always the girl I couldn't have...When you told me I &lt;em&gt;could&lt;/em&gt; have you, it changed my life"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-4441245102638484506?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/4441245102638484506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=4441245102638484506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/4441245102638484506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/4441245102638484506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/08/at-dan-and-lauras-wedding.html' title='At Dan and Laura&apos;s Wedding'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-157304455680100355</id><published>2007-08-03T18:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-03T18:42:26.857-07:00</updated><title type='text'>21</title><content type='html'>My birthday is on Monday....I'm not too sure about this one. All my life I've been told I look older...and all my life I've felt younger...but being 20 I finally fit. lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I know about people now is you can reach 21 years and be very naive and innocent and inexperienced and have 'no idea', etc...in some peoples' eyes, but that doesn't mean you aren't an adult.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-157304455680100355?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/157304455680100355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=157304455680100355' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/157304455680100355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/157304455680100355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/08/21.html' title='21'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-3750814623254220586</id><published>2007-07-14T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-14T14:45:58.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I missed her</title><content type='html'>Katie is home from camp.&lt;br /&gt;I got home from work at 4:20.&lt;br /&gt;It's 6:00.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; and I'm still waiting for her to wake up from the nap she NEEDED.&lt;br /&gt;maaaan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-3750814623254220586?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/3750814623254220586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=3750814623254220586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3750814623254220586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3750814623254220586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-missed-her.html' title='I missed her'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-1769997139679514105</id><published>2007-07-10T05:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T05:20:20.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hammock</title><content type='html'>On my day off, yesterday, I took my book and went outside to lie in the hammock we suddenly own. ( I think I asked for a hammock about once a day growing up, and now Benj says something like, "jsdkajskohammockahsdha" and Mom buys one. Anyway..that's beside the point) So I went out to lie in the hammock, and because it's a low hammock, I sunk almost to the ground. lol. Benj takes one look and bursts out laughing. " Tam! You're almost on the ground!"&lt;br /&gt;"uh huh..." (I'm getting out my book)&lt;br /&gt;"I think it needs to be raised"&lt;br /&gt;"uh huh..." (I'm reading my book)&lt;br /&gt;"ha..you look like you weigh 50 pounds!!"&lt;br /&gt;I stop reading, thinking to myself, 'that's not so bad.." When he says in an oops-I-just-made-a-big-mistake voice,&lt;br /&gt;"But...you actually weigh about 40, right Tam?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeaaa... Oh what would I do without him?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-1769997139679514105?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/1769997139679514105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=1769997139679514105' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1769997139679514105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1769997139679514105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/07/hammock.html' title='Hammock'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-3325664826562536465</id><published>2007-07-02T19:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T19:08:12.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Relationships last when you talk in person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my advice of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other thing I had to say is I'm sunburnt for the third time this summer.  Isn't that marvelous?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-3325664826562536465?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/3325664826562536465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=3325664826562536465' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3325664826562536465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3325664826562536465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/07/relationships-last-when-you-talk-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-3563786145781983504</id><published>2007-06-21T08:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T08:24:49.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today</title><content type='html'>Ok..imagine sunshine, a cool breeze, clean hair and a whole day to just sit and read outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why holidays are important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was downstairs the other day, and Benjamin walked by, following a string that was strung all around the room. I hadn't noticed it amongst the mess, but he had seen the beginning somewhere upstairs and had taken it upon himself to figure out what was at the end. It was funny to see him wind around a few chairs, go under a table, over the couch, around the cement pillars and then disappear into the bar area where I heard,&lt;br /&gt; "BAH!!!"&lt;br /&gt; " Ahhhh!!!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Zachary...who wasn't doing school. I have no idea how long he waited there knowing Benj would follow a string if he saw it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha...I love my family&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-3563786145781983504?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/3563786145781983504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=3563786145781983504' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3563786145781983504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3563786145781983504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/06/today.html' title='Today'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-7764718254117905636</id><published>2007-06-12T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T18:27:20.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amber</title><content type='html'>My 140th isn't showing up anywhere on this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today at work I read an article in Chatelaine about a babysitter. I liked it a lot...it made me glad to have been a kid, and hopeful to be a parent, and I love babies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of babies... I love Amber...she's two. She let me hold her for the entire talking time after church, in fact, it was her idea, and she'd put her arms out for me if I put her down. How could I resist? And then she 'wept bitterly' when her dad came to take her home. " nooooodadddy! I want Tamara!!" it was heart wrenching. I've said it before, but I'd adopt her if I could.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-7764718254117905636?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/7764718254117905636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=7764718254117905636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/7764718254117905636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/7764718254117905636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/06/amber.html' title='Amber'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-1516366798258901732</id><published>2007-06-11T18:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T18:32:25.437-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Plans</title><content type='html'>This week at church, I didn't only take notes..I wrote down what I was thinking in responce to what I was hearing. I think I missed parts of the sermon, but I got a lot more out of what I did hear.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to try that again next week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-1516366798258901732?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/1516366798258901732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=1516366798258901732' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1516366798258901732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1516366798258901732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/06/plans.html' title='Plans'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-5634874575557064167</id><published>2007-06-04T18:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T18:27:52.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow life can be complicated.</title><content type='html'>When I was 11 and she was 10, my friend and I had a 'crush' on the same guy. It was on one particular camping trip, and I remember sitting in the back of our van, waving and yelling at &lt;em&gt;him...&lt;/em&gt;fully relying on the tinted windows to save ourselves from discovery when he turned to look. Then we'd fall back giggling as silly little girls do. We absolutely didn't care that we both liked him, I don't remember feeling any jealousy at all. In fact, it was more fun to have someone know what I meant about a rude kid with a mushroom cut and loads of crooked teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what do you do when you are 21, and this happens? I assure you, all the delight in having someone feel the same as me is not there. I think it &lt;em&gt;could&lt;/em&gt; be a friendship ruiner, but i'm going to avoid it if I can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-5634874575557064167?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/5634874575557064167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=5634874575557064167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/5634874575557064167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/5634874575557064167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/06/wow-life-can-be-complicated.html' title='Wow life can be complicated.'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-6232006138526136738</id><published>2007-05-30T19:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T19:33:28.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I wonder if, on facebook, if you are invited to two events at the same day same time, that facebook will tell you you can't be in two places at once.&lt;br /&gt;That would be awesome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-6232006138526136738?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/6232006138526136738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=6232006138526136738' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/6232006138526136738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/6232006138526136738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-wonder-if-on-facebook-if-you-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-3910398515170575960</id><published>2007-05-27T19:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T19:21:22.199-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rathfon Inn, Port Colborne</title><content type='html'>It was amazing&lt;br /&gt;The lawn was comfy&lt;br /&gt;The air was fresh&lt;br /&gt;The sun was bright&lt;br /&gt;The glider was fit for gliding&lt;br /&gt;The speaker was inspirational&lt;br /&gt;The sky was a big screen tv&lt;br /&gt;The Inn was historical&lt;br /&gt;The enthusiasm for live Clue was infectious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the company was my favorite part.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-3910398515170575960?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/3910398515170575960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=3910398515170575960' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3910398515170575960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3910398515170575960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/05/rathfon-inn-port-colborne.html' title='Rathfon Inn, Port Colborne'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-8205408044839180152</id><published>2007-05-23T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T20:15:57.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I wont put you through this again, I promise</title><content type='html'>A typical day at the salon for me goes something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:00 Arrive at work, throw bag in the back.&lt;br /&gt;-make coffee&lt;br /&gt;-hang up a few capes&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;em&gt;say hi to someone coming in the door&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-start cleaning the window ledge&lt;br /&gt;-super clean the window ledge and get 10 years worth of hairspray buildup off.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;em&gt;start shampoo for Gail&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Sweep floor near ledge&lt;br /&gt;-dust all pitcure frames in the shop&lt;br /&gt;-dust big book shelf&lt;br /&gt;-dusk copper shelf&lt;br /&gt;-clean perm rods&lt;br /&gt;-organize perm rods&lt;br /&gt;-throw out old perm papers mixed into mixed up rods&lt;br /&gt;-put away perm picks&lt;br /&gt;-wiped off floor by sinks where someone made a waterfall. (everyday)&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;em&gt;shampoo for Andrea&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Shampoo for Sara&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Pull hair out of hair trap&lt;br /&gt;-folded a cape&lt;br /&gt;-threw towels in laundry&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;em&gt;booked appointment&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-talked to client who walked in&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-wiped down stylists chairs&lt;br /&gt;-washed counter top, taps, and mirror in bathroom&lt;br /&gt;-swept up hair&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;em&gt;shampoo for Gail&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-folded 3 capes&lt;br /&gt;-more towels in laundry&lt;br /&gt;-replenished towels in bathroom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.18 am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-ran to grocery store for soap and windex&lt;br /&gt;-lunch&lt;br /&gt;-washed my dishes and everyone elses dishes&lt;br /&gt;-put them all away&lt;br /&gt;-put away the groceries&lt;br /&gt;-filled up the soap container&lt;br /&gt;-cleaned kitchen cupboards&lt;br /&gt;-cleaned all mugs in kitchen cupboards&lt;br /&gt;-organized all the kitchen cupboards&lt;br /&gt;-washed kitchen sink, fridge, microwave, floor&lt;br /&gt;-took out garbage&lt;br /&gt;-washed color bowls&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;em&gt;drape client for color&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-put away more capes&lt;br /&gt;-sweep more hair&lt;br /&gt;-sweep back room floor&lt;br /&gt;-washed outside of color cupboards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1:07 pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-swept the whole salon&lt;br /&gt;-tore foils&lt;br /&gt;-folded towels&lt;br /&gt;-rolled black towels for bathroom&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;em&gt;started shampoo for Gail&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;em&gt;Applied toner for Sara&lt;br /&gt;-Shampoo for Sara&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Tidied magazines&lt;br /&gt;-swept some hair&lt;br /&gt;-full sink of dishes&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;em&gt;talked to a client&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;em&gt;answered phone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-foils with sara!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-washed color bowls&lt;br /&gt;-washed some color gloves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3:20 (will this day ever end?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-swept entire salon&lt;br /&gt;-put away some capes&lt;br /&gt;-put away some magazines&lt;br /&gt;-tidied newspapers&lt;br /&gt;-washed gloves, threw 'em out because they ripped&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;em&gt;shampooed for Mike&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-draped client for color&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-swept some hair&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;em&gt;answered phone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-rolled towels&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Left work early at 4:50 pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My days are made up of a lot of things that have nothing to do with hair. In fact, they are housework, and lots of windex cleaning things that don't need it everyday. We took a table apart to clean it's innermost workings because there was nothing else to do.&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going to go crazy.&lt;br /&gt;At work, I'm expected to be busy with something all day long. This is hard...I think it goes against my nature to maintain a constant level of perfection just to look busy to people walking by and to keep the clock turning and keep my coworkers off my back about the way I work.&lt;br /&gt;I've met only one person in my life who cleaned their house every single day top to bottom. They had no job, and had OCD. So...basically, your house, (or a salon) does not need to be cleaned every single day, you can clean once a week and survive.&lt;br /&gt;On saturdays, and occasionally during the week, I get about 6 clients, sometimes a few more. that's a good day. I know for sure I can handle more than that.&lt;br /&gt;It just makes me think. I hate coming across as lazy, but most of what I do at work everyday seems pretty meaningless to me and I dispise meaningless work.  "busy work"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I will survive. :) And I really do like my salon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-8205408044839180152?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/8205408044839180152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=8205408044839180152' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/8205408044839180152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/8205408044839180152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-wont-put-you-through-this-again-i.html' title='I wont put you through this again, I promise'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-718363305884321145</id><published>2007-05-21T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T07:25:49.369-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My Dad just sneezed behind me as I was putting my fingers down to type...and it was similar to an explosion...so I feel a bit rattled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Victoria Day at the park!! That's today, and we are leaving in half an hour...but I'm ready right now. Katie is still getting ready. She and I plan to sneak out since my parents don't want her to be 16 yet. Well, we don't need to sneak out, because they already said yes, but they said it like this,"I guess it will be alright, but why are you in young peoples already? I think you are in teen club until the summer"  According to me, it's already summer. ahh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, Katie, Candice, Julia, Nadine, Justine, Kira and I went to Christina's house in Dunnville, planned our camping trip, and then laughed for most of the rest of the day. It was really easy to laugh. It may have been the chocolate covered everything we were eating. It should be a good trip though, Nadine is super organized. She even remembered a first aid kit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-718363305884321145?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/718363305884321145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=718363305884321145' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/718363305884321145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/718363305884321145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-dad-just-sneezed-behind-me-as-i-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-6040587723753897521</id><published>2007-05-17T19:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T20:00:11.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>not working right</title><content type='html'>I....have a lot of energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Um, could you guys just take a minute to pray for a girl my family has been witnessing to lately? She's moving away, and there are problems going on we had no idea about, so if you could just pray for her that would be awesome. God works miracles...I don't think that moving away might will fix things, so my family is worried about her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things at work are ok. It's pretty amazing to have found a job that suits me though, I didn't think I'd be able to after most of my past jobs not being right. How is it that I knew what I wanted without even experiencing it? I had a dream for a place I'd like to work, not like visual images, just how it would be working there, and now I have it. It's awesome.&lt;br /&gt;   My only problem  is everyones desire to have a pecking order. My boss would like it to be that everyone went to work, ignored what eachother was doing and just focused on their clients and pulling their own weight. It seems theres a lot of " She doesn't work as hard as me (and it's not fair)" going on. And also, " I shouldn't have to do that because I'm not an apprentice"  So what happens when I'm not an apprentice anymore? Who will clean the toilet then?  Still me, guarantee it. it has nothing to do with being an apprentice..just being new and easy to boss around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, and the reason I know it will work out is, I can do this just as well as them, and that means this won't last forever. If I have to earn their respect, then it will mean more once it's mine. And if I have to prove to them I can do it, then I will, and then we can look back and say to eachother " You were so mean to me! " " Yeah! I was wasn't I?!" lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think all those problems would be solved right now if we had more clientale coming in and out of the salon, because on busy days, there isn't anyone getting mad at another person for not working. or not working right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-6040587723753897521?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/6040587723753897521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=6040587723753897521' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/6040587723753897521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/6040587723753897521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/05/not-working-right.html' title='not working right'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-1459818375743593822</id><published>2007-05-12T11:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-12T11:37:57.872-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amen</title><content type='html'>Thank you God for Friends like Ben&lt;br /&gt;Who brought me tea at work and made my day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-1459818375743593822?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/1459818375743593822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=1459818375743593822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1459818375743593822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1459818375743593822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/05/amen.html' title='Amen'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-7782854621382184122</id><published>2007-05-08T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T19:20:25.131-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm going to lighten up and laugh more</title><content type='html'>On Sunday,  Katie and I went to Mark's after the evening service to celebrate his profession of faith. On the way there, Katie told me I needed to lighten up if I was planning to ever get married.&lt;br /&gt;I was kind of surprised, but I always take her advice because she barely ever gives it. I defended myself to her for a few minutes saying things like I've just started working a real job, and I'm happier than I've been in a while, and blahblahblah..." all true....of course....but then I just shut up and decided to try it.&lt;br /&gt;So I was really light.&lt;br /&gt;Not sure how well that went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think she's right though. Her wording was a bit funny, " Sometimes you shouldn't be mature"  which meant I should not always be serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think you can lighten up and be mature at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;I think kindness and sincerity are important parts too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we talked about laughter. If you know my sister, you know her laugh, because she does it often. I don't want to sound old and sour as I probably do by now, but I'm happy to say  I've had a few times recently where I really laughed, the kind where you can't help it. Where it's SO easy. Where it doesn't sound fake to me.&lt;br /&gt;I love that!&lt;br /&gt;I want to laugh like that more often!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing better than discovering a little kid's sense of humour.&lt;br /&gt;I hope I give birth to funny children someday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-7782854621382184122?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/7782854621382184122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=7782854621382184122' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/7782854621382184122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/7782854621382184122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/05/im-going-to-lighten-up-and-laugh-more.html' title='I&apos;m going to lighten up and laugh more'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-6541408803575317985</id><published>2007-05-07T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T09:17:07.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>25th Anniversary</title><content type='html'>I love that my Mom doesn't read this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents have been married for 24 years, 11 months and 23 days. This means it's a matter of days before we are having a very large party for them. I was told, several times, "When MY parents had THEIR 25th, we planned the whole party for them." We on the other hand, are only in charge of the entertainment. My mother booked the hall, met with the caterer and is going to decorate by herself. and I think she loves it. And I think it's good that I'm not getting married this year so she still has a party to plan for without going nuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are doing a skit, with Peter as Dad, and Katie as Mom, and Caleb as a bear, and a bus, and a robber. Candice is playing piano, Laura is drawing cartoons for the programs, Benj is playing 'flute' (recorder) and I am do everything else woman. Katie and I considered singing....but our voices only blend sometimes. I can't figure out if it's me or her that is off, but I have a suspicion. Zach might tell a joke or something... he's hard to convince. He'd rather build them a set of drawers than go up on stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it will be good. My only source of doubt is the Pinata Rat I have to make. Peter and Katie told me to. I don't want it to be a rat. "But mom hates rats!" And " People will want to hit it more!"  thus..we will have a large rat hanging from the ceiling. gross eh? I think so. ew. Not a nice decoration. I'm going to accidently make it a football.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-6541408803575317985?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/6541408803575317985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=6541408803575317985' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/6541408803575317985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/6541408803575317985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/05/25th-anniversary.html' title='25th Anniversary'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-3595203295031514793</id><published>2007-05-02T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T19:37:53.457-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today was not a winner, as I'm finding, as I sit here attempting to think about being positive.&lt;br /&gt;Mom said that she thinks I'm too depressed sometimes. Um...nothing to really say about that.&lt;br /&gt;When I'm thankful, I'm thankful to God, and I'm happy about that.&lt;br /&gt;Blowing kisses to the sky...driving in the rain from Guelph to not Guelph.&lt;br /&gt;I walked around like a zombie all day because Katie made me watch a movie with her.&lt;br /&gt;But Michelle's grad party was really fun and we had this amazing layered jello.&lt;br /&gt;I bent my head back and stared into the sky and smelled summer smells.&lt;br /&gt;Today was a winner, as I'm finding, as I sit here being positive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-3595203295031514793?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/3595203295031514793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=3595203295031514793' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3595203295031514793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3595203295031514793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/05/today-was-not-winner-as-im-finding-as-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-390427107022526929</id><published>2007-04-28T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-28T20:32:11.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God's Work</title><content type='html'>I'm just home from the Gleaners Fundraising Dinner. I should say, the Ontario Christian Gleaners, because it is real now, and it's going to be in operation DV this year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so inspiring. I'm trying to think of how to describe it. About a week and a half ago, I was told that our youth group would be asked to help serve the dinner, and did I want to help? I selfishly said no. It was selfish because I just wanted to go and enjoy it...I felt bad about it a bit later, and especially  tonight as I was sitting there while my friends were running to and from the kitchen, waiting on me,  and asking me if I wanted more gravy or some water...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, now that the evening is over, I don't feel guilty, or regretful, because the inspiring stories and real statistics and just reliving the memory of 4 summers ago when our yps went down to the Okanagan Gleaners for a missions trip. (that's where it all started!) was Awesome. The enthusiasm in the room was more then moving, I think I needed to hear it. Helping out in the kitchen and serving the food was an awesome serving opportunity, but I wouldn't have been changed....or rather, refreshed, the way I am now. I think God decided I would be in there listening instead of working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ontariogleaners.org"&gt;www.ontariogleaners.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-390427107022526929?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/390427107022526929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=390427107022526929' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/390427107022526929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/390427107022526929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/04/gods-work.html' title='God&apos;s Work'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-4068249648161478148</id><published>2007-04-25T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-25T19:46:37.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Better not say anything else</title><content type='html'>I'm frustrated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-4068249648161478148?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/4068249648161478148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=4068249648161478148' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/4068249648161478148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/4068249648161478148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/04/better-not-say-anything-else.html' title='Better not say anything else'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-1815859440899073586</id><published>2007-04-21T18:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-21T18:57:11.742-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Katie and I</title><content type='html'>We spent our Saturday evening on the town instead of rollerblading as I had originally planned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let's go rollerblading!"&lt;br /&gt;"Ok!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 hours later...&lt;br /&gt;" Do you even have roller blades Tam?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't. So we didn't go. I can't believe I forgot to think about that. Ha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weather is incredible...I am inspired by it. I plan to get sunburnt tomorrow. Maybe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home, we had the windows down, and the sun was down, and the air smelled like summer, and we were singing along to EMF's Unbelievable, but I really don't know the lyrics at all, just the "W-W-W-WHoooAA Man!"&lt;br /&gt;I love moments like that...they make me go to sleep feeling happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-1815859440899073586?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/1815859440899073586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=1815859440899073586' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1815859440899073586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1815859440899073586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/04/katie-and-i.html' title='Katie and I'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-5462913349617111102</id><published>2007-04-14T20:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T20:28:54.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stories</title><content type='html'>Myth: You don't meet guys when you are driving, because, you can't talk to them even if you see eachother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Myth: You can't feel like you've been hit by a truck unless you have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Myth: You can't say the same thing to every person you see and mean it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harold: Sabrina, what are you thinking about?&lt;br /&gt;Sabrina: I was thinking about the guy who I went out with when my heart wasn't healed yet from my previous relationship. I was at the stage where I wasn't sad about the relationship ending anymore, but I was far from being better. My emotions were gone..I didn't cry for 3 months, when I normally cry easily. And nothing excited me or angered me, or made me feel happy. I still laughed, and I still acted the right way. But the stony coating around me was undeniable. Poor guy didn't have a chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harold: You're nice.&lt;br /&gt;Sabrina: I couldn't help it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-5462913349617111102?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/5462913349617111102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=5462913349617111102' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/5462913349617111102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/5462913349617111102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/04/stories.html' title='Stories'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-8772198824464068150</id><published>2007-04-06T11:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-06T11:47:06.069-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just cut hair. Katie's hair. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For anyone who doesn't know, cutting Katie's hair freaks me out. My brain gets completely confused when I'm doing anything with her hair. For the most part it's because it's 'just Katie', so I try things I wouldn't try on a client, and it's partly because she completely trusts me. So my hands and ideas are kind of freed up really quickly and I do things I regret later when I'm looking at what I've done with a clear mind. It's like I forget everything I was taught in school for the half hour I am cutting.&lt;br /&gt;BUT. this time it turned out. Until the haircut I did on her during my exam (when I was thinking clear!)  I had never given her a good haircut. &lt;br /&gt;Yup. So I'd post a picture. But we didn't take one. Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a funny craving for chicken and popcorn.  I think I should invent a recipe that has both. Eww...I put yogurt in my french toast yesterday. It gave it a strangely badsour strawberry taste.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-8772198824464068150?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/8772198824464068150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=8772198824464068150' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/8772198824464068150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/8772198824464068150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-just-cut-hair.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20531447.post-322847279247134714</id><published>2007-03-28T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T19:41:15.509-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Absolutely No Frills</title><content type='html'>Yesterday at work, I was sent to No Frills to buy cream for the coffee. On my way in, I over heard one of the guys working there saying to an older woman,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Yep, All the bananas are green. Yellow bananas would be a frill."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          Where would we be without humour?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, Quick tip, if you buy lots of green bananas because they are on sale, or whatever, leave them in the thin plastic bags that are available in the produce area with the top tied shut on the counter (not the fridge) and they will ripen much nicer and keep longer. We are banana experts at my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked my boss about vacation time...and he said something similar to, " Vacation time? haha, after a year of working here you get 2 weeks vacation. So where are you going next year?"&lt;br /&gt;What a funny guy. Not to worry, I am so getting a vacation this year. It just wont be a paid vacation. And that's ok with me because I am a firm believer in vacations.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-322847279247134714?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/322847279247134714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=322847279247134714' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/322847279247134714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/322847279247134714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/03/absolutely-no-frills.html' title='Absolutely No Frills'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-6595134538032612961</id><published>2007-03-25T11:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-25T12:15:38.819-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wish I was poetic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend has been eye opening for me when it comes to faith. One way is in how I have had so many days where I wish I didn't have to grow up, because it's terrifying. And the truth about things hurt. But, to balance it out, I have days where I can take on the world, because I've grown up and that is really ok with me. It's more than ok, it's exhilerating. It's similar to fresh air and sudden energy highs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I'm thinking I still have a lot of growing up to do. And if I keep learning as much as I have been every year, there better be a load of learning room left. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really not that scary though. I think in a little while the fear of growing up will be gone completely, simply because the past hardships have worked out ok. I remember learning to drive. that was huge then, small now. And going to school, huge then, small now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember a friend from art school saying something along the lines of, " it is so weird that you all know me as I am right now, You know the pregnant me and that is so weird because I've never been pregnant before and it's so huge to me, but normal to you because it's all you've ever known me to be. '  It made perfect sense yesterday at work. I think it's finally hit that I'm done school. I was sitting at the desk, and I had a clear thought of, " You are working now. All that other stuff is behind you, and it's done. and you are done. and wow, you've changed so much but you are the same person."  I think a thought I grew up with was that you are someone else once you are grown up. But you aren't really, you are the same person, in a different body, with experiences behind you that will now shape your thoughts and your dreams differently than when you were young.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aahh..it's the fear of the unknown that made the issues that are small now big at the time. That is why faith should make all the difference in the way we live.  It's not scary, because God knows how it will work out.  Faith means breathing freely and feeling safe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-6595134538032612961?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/6595134538032612961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=6595134538032612961' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/6595134538032612961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/6595134538032612961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/03/sometimes-i-wish-i-was-poetic.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-5428820368761399797</id><published>2007-03-21T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T19:13:56.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm going to draw and wax Katie's eyebrows now</title><content type='html'>A boy sees a girl from across the room, and decides to walk over. She is looking slightly lost in space, but truly, who cares right? interupt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B: You look friendly.&lt;br /&gt;G: I am, good observation skills.&lt;br /&gt;B: In that case what is your name?&lt;br /&gt;G: Sabrina.&lt;br /&gt;B: Sabrina, does it irritate you when people say your name everytime they have something to say to you?&lt;br /&gt;G: Sabrina is a movie name.&lt;br /&gt;B: You are witty and that doesn't answer my question but I won't do it again anyways.&lt;br /&gt;G: Again, very observant.&lt;br /&gt;B: Please, call me Harold.&lt;br /&gt;G: Harold, I tried really hard to put a lot of movies into my life. Is Harold a movie?&lt;br /&gt;B: Not yet!&lt;br /&gt;G: You are witty too!&lt;br /&gt;B: Thank you!&lt;br /&gt;G: You're welcome!&lt;br /&gt;B: What should you be doing right now?&lt;br /&gt;G: Drawing a picture and waxing Katie's eyebrows.&lt;br /&gt;B: Well, get to it.&lt;br /&gt;G: I would, but my computer is so slow that I told my mother that if we had highspeed I wouldn't take an hour to do 20 minutes of work.&lt;br /&gt;B: And then she said that since your Dad started working out of the house he doesn't care about our internet state anymore.&lt;br /&gt;G: Then I said something similar.&lt;br /&gt;B: How was your parfait from Zehrs today?&lt;br /&gt;G: I didn't end up getting one, because they all had strawberries and so and so is allergic. not me though, I could have eaten them in 5 seconds. Except I had just had lunch.&lt;br /&gt;B: So and So enjoyed her pineapple hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;G: You shouldn't lie.&lt;br /&gt;B: What do you mean?&lt;br /&gt;G: We've are friends. Not strangers.&lt;br /&gt;B:........&lt;br /&gt;G: Liar&lt;br /&gt;B: I feel like I've known you forever. What can I say.&lt;br /&gt;G: But I lied too.&lt;br /&gt;B: How did you lie?&lt;br /&gt;G: The parfait was for her, not me.&lt;br /&gt;B: I'm glad we cleared that up.&lt;br /&gt;G: You are crazier than I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-5428820368761399797?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/5428820368761399797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=5428820368761399797' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/5428820368761399797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/5428820368761399797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/03/im-going-to-draw-and-wax-katies.html' title='I&apos;m going to draw and wax Katie&apos;s eyebrows now'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-7791567872459800926</id><published>2007-03-18T18:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T18:37:18.824-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I had so many things to write about.&lt;br /&gt;I'm reading a book called Bad Ground. It takes me ages to finish a book because I only have time to read occasionally. But this one is enjoyable. I like that it's about mining. And that it's not about a woman.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I will remember everything I wanted to blog about tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-7791567872459800926?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/7791567872459800926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=7791567872459800926' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/7791567872459800926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/7791567872459800926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-had-so-many-things-to-write-about.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-1004599332848660974</id><published>2007-03-12T08:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T08:57:11.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Burning down the house</title><content type='html'>Don't you hate it when you eat those soursugar covered gummy candies and then one tiny piece of soursugar gets stuck under your tongue, or part way down your throat, and you have this sour sensation for like an hour afterward?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um, I just about burned down our house by leaving a pan on the heat. for a long time. um. Mom is kind of mad at me now. eee. How long would you have to leave a pan on the heat before it started a fire? I think it would take a long time. Especially when it's on low. Not to justify myself...but it would wouldn't it?  I should research that. I swear it's because my Mom was around. I never do these things when I'm un-supervised. I told her that too. But I'm not sure it will help. Maybe telling her that the last time I did something silly like that was a year ago or so....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to go find my Mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-1004599332848660974?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/1004599332848660974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=1004599332848660974' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1004599332848660974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1004599332848660974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/03/burning-down-house.html' title='Burning down the house'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20531447.post-5909152269028640230</id><published>2007-03-01T11:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T11:20:32.548-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well My Dear Friends,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am done school!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aahh..it's all over.  :)&lt;br /&gt;Huge happy dance is coming once it sinks in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for listening to my horror stories and&lt;br /&gt;listening to my complaints and listening to what&lt;br /&gt;was amazing about hair school.&lt;br /&gt;And thank you for prayers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of Love,&lt;br /&gt;                Tamara&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-5909152269028640230?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/5909152269028640230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=5909152269028640230' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/5909152269028640230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/5909152269028640230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/03/well-my-dear-friends-i-am-done-school.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-6739115777867829321</id><published>2007-02-23T16:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-23T16:15:54.167-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm having a break..I'm having a kitkat</title><content type='html'>Wowwy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so new looking, and earthy, and fresh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, onto a new cover for my diary, and maybe I will draw a picture of this bag I invented. Or maybe I will finish the bag. Regardless of what I do, I'm going to something besides sit here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-6739115777867829321?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/6739115777867829321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=6739115777867829321' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/6739115777867829321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/6739115777867829321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/02/im-having-breakim-having-kitkat.html' title='I&apos;m having a break..I&apos;m having a kitkat'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-1845222048416581110</id><published>2007-02-21T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-21T16:19:45.254-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And I'm feeling....good</title><content type='html'>I am so excited about my new job!&lt;br /&gt;You know something is going well, when you have tons of energy when you get home and you continue to think about the days events hours afterward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's going to be good working there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALSO. I have a grocery store romance going on, which is quite fun. I shouldn't say romance, it's more like I have found a friend who works at a grocery store around the corner, who enjoys teasing me about my limited knowledge of water softener salt, and my very frequent trips to the store to buy things for the shop. Not to see him of course, but he thinks so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-1845222048416581110?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/1845222048416581110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=1845222048416581110' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1845222048416581110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/1845222048416581110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/02/and-im-feelinggood.html' title='And I&apos;m feeling....good'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-8003868596000850125</id><published>2007-02-20T17:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-20T17:39:47.845-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You make me think</title><content type='html'>I wish things were less complex...I can't seem to sort anything out to any order that makes sense to me. So I quit, but that doesn't work either. So I don't quit and I'm back where I started. Nothing actually makes things make sense.&lt;br /&gt;I'm having a day where I am entertaining those thoughts, because it's easy, and not easy at the same time, and I think I like being mixed up because of this undying hope that someday things will make sense. And then on top of the hope theres this " I told you it would never happen" glimmer that says things aren't going to be that way, even if I have a hope that doesn't die, just gets smothered regularly.&lt;br /&gt;I keep letting my heart get hurt too, it's heart in the blender time, might as well get it over with before it hardens up again. That sounds awful. I wish I could think up a metaphor that describes this...I would give anything to be a writer, or a musician, just for the times like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what makes me think everything will be fixed with answers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O.k...how about this for a metaphor. It's like reading a book, that is full of huge beautifully colored, detailed pictures, and each one, as you look at it, makes you feel different and you become a different person as you look at each page. One will bring up a dream you have, one will bring up confidence, one strength, one sadness, one confusion. And by the end of the book, you realize you are all those things, but only one at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I have this all the time, because almost all my inspiration for anything I do comes from images of some sort. From magazines, books, signs, people around me...most of them are just glimpses, but a lot of them stay and I mold them into my life in some way, and it makes life rich and exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if that cleared anything up. I can't help laugh at myself when I read that, because by trying to think up a metaphor to explain one issue, I have completely cleared up another one for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is some I know who I miss really badly. I keep thinking about this person...although we haven't been in contact in a long time. I just feel a common understanding with this person and it makes their absense noticable. Sometimes it feels like I need to be there to help, and sometimes theres nothing of that and only fun and lots of laughing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-8003868596000850125?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/8003868596000850125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=8003868596000850125' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/8003868596000850125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/8003868596000850125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/02/you-make-me-think.html' title='You make me think'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-7972831485350992523</id><published>2007-02-18T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-18T18:34:02.545-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday</title><content type='html'>So Funmi came over. He's fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch we were looking for an adventure...and we had no grapes...so Funmi, Katie and I left to visit Flamborough Canadian Reformed church and got there almost 15 minutes late. (but the usher helped us anyways) and then left afterwards because that is what everyone else did. The minister said, " Amen" and everyone filed out of church into their vehicles and left for home...all in about 5 minutes! It was pretty impressive. So I saw the back of the heads of a few people I know, and said a real hello to Matt and John before we followed the leader. Funmi had never been to a Canadian Reformed service, and we warned him that the singing is hard, especially if you are used to our psalter. But of course it wasn't this time and he will never believe anything I say again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard 3 sermons today, and each one had a different distraction that pulled me away from the words I was hearing over and over. Kind of frustrating, but it was interesting to struggle with that, in a way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-7972831485350992523?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/7972831485350992523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=7972831485350992523' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/7972831485350992523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/7972831485350992523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/02/sunday.html' title='Sunday'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-3002225415587381551</id><published>2007-02-16T19:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T19:25:23.923-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe I'll just...</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting here searching my mind...and mostly bad things are surfacing. So maybe I'l just say hello and maybe see you soon because I miss you a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will also say that my friend Funmi is coming over on Sunday and we are going to play chubby bunny with grapes. It's so much safer and healthier than marshmallows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm going to win.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-3002225415587381551?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/3002225415587381551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=3002225415587381551' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3002225415587381551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/3002225415587381551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/02/maybe-ill-just.html' title='Maybe I&apos;ll just...'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-4172201456632074435</id><published>2007-02-13T16:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-13T16:45:43.219-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Culprit of My Insanity</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bq-_woe1wwA/RdJbuJ3fX6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/6NxHaLZfkA4/s1600-h/Benj1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031184582207037346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bq-_woe1wwA/RdJbuJ3fX6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/6NxHaLZfkA4/s320/Benj1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bq-_woe1wwA/RdJbvZ3fX7I/AAAAAAAAAAU/yIqWQw5E7TI/s1600-h/Benj2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031184603681873842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bq-_woe1wwA/RdJbvZ3fX7I/AAAAAAAAAAU/yIqWQw5E7TI/s320/Benj2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-4172201456632074435?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/4172201456632074435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=4172201456632074435' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/4172201456632074435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/4172201456632074435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/02/culprit-of-my-insanity.html' title='The Culprit of My Insanity'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bq-_woe1wwA/RdJbuJ3fX6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/6NxHaLZfkA4/s72-c/Benj1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20531447.post-6471817121016424752</id><published>2007-02-13T07:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T12:52:42.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HELP</title><content type='html'>Homeschool counting rhymes...imagine a 7 year old singing with a twang to his voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Six Twaaalve eighteeeen, twenny four and thirty, Dishes on the counter, and Boy Weren't they Dirty!!?! Thirty six, forty two, forty eight, fifty fouuuuuur,......(long pause...)&lt;br /&gt;60 66 and seventeeetwwwwooo, and boy'd thet kitchen shine when we got throouugh"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-6471817121016424752?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/6471817121016424752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=6471817121016424752' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/6471817121016424752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/6471817121016424752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/02/help.html' title='HELP'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-4723336742858653153</id><published>2007-02-11T19:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-11T19:35:47.341-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whoa,</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;this 'new blogger' doesn't look any different to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;Katie and I made a movie, well, more like a reality show. I was the Magazine Lady/Amazing Make-over Director, and Katie was the model. Her before was pretty awful. It was complete with frizzy hair, acne, sweat pants and extremely bad posture. We never made it to the after though, because we ran out of tape. We only got to the part of the makeover we dubbed 'the wax' in which we removed a large clump of hair from her armpit that we had taped there. It was great. I just wish we had had enough ambition to find an empty tape. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;We also made our very own version of American idol, but it would take a lot of work still before it is viewable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;So, sadly, both of these films will remain as simply afternoon fun for me and my sister and will not be seen by anyone else. heehee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-4723336742858653153?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/4723336742858653153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=4723336742858653153' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/4723336742858653153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/4723336742858653153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/02/whoa_11.html' title='Whoa,'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-117105843391298495</id><published>2007-02-09T13:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-09T14:00:33.930-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Job</title><content type='html'>Well, it looks great. I think that man needs someone with a sense of humour around, but I could be wrong. Either way he has a vision and it sounds exciting. I will keep you posted on it alright?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-117105843391298495?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/117105843391298495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=117105843391298495' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/117105843391298495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/117105843391298495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/02/job.html' title='The Job'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-117086523798104212</id><published>2007-02-07T07:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T08:20:38.010-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And that is what happened</title><content type='html'>Shudder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm talking about cemetaries and bury-ment and armadillo skulls with my friend. She's a talented blacksmith. and still thinks I hate the color black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday at Blue was so awesome. I'm not that daring anymore when it comes to snowboarding...I could have been on Monday because everything was squishy from so much snow. I'm not as sore as I thought I'd be either, but that's probably why. Despite being slow; Dan, Ryan and Eric waited for me at the bottom of every hill. Thanks guys :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan was so funny...he usually is, but his humour is never anything but clean and nice to everyone. So when he was the cause of me falling over, and laughed..I couldn't believe my ears. And on one ride up the hill we were talking about frostbite and how skin to skin contact is the best, and then Ryan jokes, " haha...'hey, can you help me? I have frost bite on my lips'" LOL. Totally unlike him..at least in my experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we had supper at Subway my friend's Dad called my cell phone looking for his son and said that hwy 6 was closed because of the weather and something along the lines of, " It's good to hear your voice" so he got me a bit worried about the drive home. It turned out ok though, we missed hwy 6 completely and other then a little skid the driving wasn't awful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I'm going to find a phone number, call it, go to town to some antique shop, then to Beauticians for some color for Dan and a brush for Cassy, then out for supper and then absolutely nothing! What a full day I can't believe how much I do it's crazy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-117086523798104212?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/117086523798104212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=117086523798104212' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/117086523798104212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/117086523798104212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/02/and-that-is-what-happened.html' title='And that is what happened'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-117038331117412731</id><published>2007-02-01T18:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-01T18:34:03.650-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Putting together my portfolio</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6013/2060/1600/633221/Portfolio2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6013/2060/320/806474/Portfolio2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6013/2060/1600/338362/portfolio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6013/2060/320/571865/portfolio.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-117038331117412731?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/117038331117412731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=117038331117412731' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/117038331117412731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/117038331117412731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/02/putting-together-my-portfolio.html' title='Putting together my portfolio'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-117026669526949373</id><published>2007-01-31T09:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T10:04:56.350-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a great day to be alive</title><content type='html'>I tried Drambuie last night with my Dad and my Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now understand all the references to 'keeping warm' with alcohol in movies. lol As my little cousin Thomas said after he bit into a very large, Rum filled candy " HOT HOT HOT!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are really good right now. I am reading a book that is consuming all my time. It's one that pulls me away from everything and hours pass unoticed, I love books like that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my Mother is making me a grilled cheese sandwich.  :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie finally convinced me to take her snowboarding on Monday, and I didn't think it would happen, but I'm excited! I'm going to wax my snowboard. Actually, I should find it first. ha. It will be an experience to drive with Katie up to Blue Mountain. What better time to do it than now, seeing as I have so much free time?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-117026669526949373?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/117026669526949373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=117026669526949373' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/117026669526949373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/117026669526949373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/its-great-day-to-be-alive.html' title='It&apos;s a great day to be alive'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-117011683578922222</id><published>2007-01-29T16:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T16:27:15.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Portfolio</title><content type='html'>I am working on my final project for school; My Portfolio!&lt;br /&gt;I might have said that the last project was my last, because it sort of was. project is a bad word. This is way more fun than a project, even if it is called one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had over 700 pictures to chose from!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be great. I can't wait to look at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The job search continues. I've decided that with broken windows, insurance going up, Dad's new business, and lack of things to do... that getting a job is my main priority right now. I can't believe how fast this came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O.k. I lied. I have loads of things I can do, but I don't do them unless I'm busy with something else. I can do more in a day where I go to school or work than an entire day spent at home. It's something I hope to get over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-117011683578922222?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/117011683578922222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=117011683578922222' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/117011683578922222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/117011683578922222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/portfolio.html' title='Portfolio'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116969769776349264</id><published>2007-01-24T19:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:01:37.776-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Marvel days</title><content type='html'>Our lunch room at school in in the school building, but you can't get to it except if you go outside and into an indented doorway, and up some narrow smelly stairs. Then you are greeted with a small lunchroom, table with seating for about twelve people, 5000 lockers for us to use (we don't use them) a very old microwave and an empty room with a closet off of it that contains all the new kits for future students. mmhmm..we feel like eating when we sit there. I wont describe the bathrooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Riki and I sat up there today for lunch. I was across from her at the table, and she kicked me for more leg room, complained about the way I cough into my hand and told me my lunch looked gross. So I whistled a long drawn out note while looking her in the eye.  Riki hates when I whistle. She thinks I do it to bother her, but I just do it without thinking. Today it was on purpose. She frowned and yelled " STOP IT!!!!" and I got up (and laughed) and skipped to the door singing, " I don't have to listen to you anymore because I'm almost done my hours!!" and then I started whistling again, and she got up and chased me out into the hall, down the stairs (where the whistling echoed really nicely)  outside onto the walkway, into the school and right to the door of the teachers lunch room where she let out a swear word at the top of her lungs in total frustration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She got in trouble. But we were friends again in about 5 minutes. It's weird that way. I knew the entire time that if things were different, like if I were really sensitive, we wouldn't be friends at all. Since I'm the way I am, I can let her be how she is and still like her a lot. lol!! She is so hilarious. She can be painfully sweet too, you just have to let her be her. I'm going to miss her when I'm done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116969769776349264?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116969769776349264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116969769776349264' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116969769776349264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116969769776349264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/marvel-days.html' title='Marvel days'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20531447.post-116950276268237207</id><published>2007-01-22T13:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T13:52:42.700-08:00</updated><title type='text'>'Yess I knooo  wit, I can't Heeeelll  pit.'</title><content type='html'>I took it upon myself to attempt to make....pretzels....today,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Take a deep breath before you continue reading....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND THEY WORKED!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;If you were expecting some sort of horror story, please, be honest and let me know. I am not a cook in anyway and I'm sure some of you know it first hand. ( :D ha-ha! )&lt;br /&gt;Ahh..I feel like I made a good situation out of a bad one. Namely, being home sick turned into learning how to make things like pretzels. These were the soft doughy pretzels = The good kind.&lt;br /&gt;I just might attempt guacamole this afternoon...and bring it to GBS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116950276268237207?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116950276268237207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116950276268237207' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116950276268237207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116950276268237207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/yess-i-knooo-wit-i-cant-heeeelll-pit.html' title='&apos;Yess I knooo  wit, I can&apos;t Heeeelll  pit.&apos;'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116940907613183569</id><published>2007-01-21T11:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T11:51:16.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm still sick</title><content type='html'>Hi, it's me the cry baby!&lt;br /&gt;WAAAaaaaAAh. I'm tired of being sick!!&lt;br /&gt;Cough drops taste like gross.&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I lie down everything dries up and I can't breath.&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I sit up my nose itches until I sneeze.&lt;br /&gt;Then I have to blow my nose until it's bright red.&lt;br /&gt;And I had to miss church for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a happy note...it isn't so terrible to miss school tomorrow (if I have to) because I only have 6 days left before I do exams, but they aren't until the end of February. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116940907613183569?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116940907613183569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116940907613183569' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116940907613183569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116940907613183569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/im-still-sick.html' title='I&apos;m still sick'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116923930717282984</id><published>2007-01-19T12:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-19T12:41:47.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bullies and Sickness</title><content type='html'>Katie got picked on today, by the youngest three kids in our family. They hurt her feelings by telling her she is too big to ride the sleds they want to use and better stick to riding the GT. I don't think there is a big enough age gap to establish the respect she wants. If they told &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; that, lol...big trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Caleb's Mp3 played was stolen at school. He got it for Christmas. That makes me really angry. People have always picked on him and it makes me angry everytime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really sick. It was a long time coming, and now it's hitting me hard. It's just a cold, but it's making everything ache. I spent last night changing position every half hour or so because my back would hurt, or my arms, or legs... And your head weighs a hundred pounds in the middle of the night with a cold. To top it off theres that never ending drip...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. The things we wish we could fix but just have to get through. Thank God for his comfort.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116923930717282984?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116923930717282984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116923930717282984' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116923930717282984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116923930717282984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/bullies-and-sickness.html' title='Bullies and Sickness'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20531447.post-116898935908531912</id><published>2007-01-16T14:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T15:15:59.140-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes a person could go crazy.</title><content type='html'>One instance was yesterday, when it ice rained and I got a surprise day off of school which I spent with my family. The conversation is to die for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...We were sitting in Arbys having dinner. My youngest brother and sister didn't remember ever being there before and had a lot to say about the decorations, the location, the windows, the carpet, the tables, the fact that there was no one else in the restaurant besides us, and that a place like that should be packed with people, the food being " meat on a bun? that's it?" and again and again how craaaazy it was that we were the only ones there.&lt;br /&gt;After awhile Benj asked, " Why do they call this place Arbys?" and I said, " Well, they &lt;em&gt;wanted&lt;/em&gt; to name it Benjamin, but we got angry at them and told them not to because we didn't want you to grow up thinking you were a restaurant...."&lt;br /&gt;...few minutes later Laura asks " Why do they call them curly fries?" I said, " Well, they wanted to name them Lauras, but we didn't want you to grow up thinking you were a fry...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you can sense the slight exasperation that was growing within me...I probably could have said just " I don't know" but after 500 such questions it just wouldn't do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...On the drive home Laura asks out loud to no one in particular, "Is it raining??" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahem.&lt;br /&gt;1. Mom spent the trip &lt;em&gt;into&lt;/em&gt; town talking about ice rain and how dangerous it is.  2. I had a snowday from &lt;em&gt;Marvel &lt;/em&gt; 3. Mom, Caleb and I spent 20 minutes cleaning off the van before we left the driveway (kids sitting in the van waiting).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I just told her not to ask stupid questions.&lt;br /&gt; " That was a stupid question?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom saved the day with, " Laura, sometimes you can use your own ears, your own eyes and your own brain to figure out the answer to your questions."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116898935908531912?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116898935908531912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116898935908531912' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116898935908531912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116898935908531912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/sometimes-person-could-go-crazy.html' title='Sometimes a person could go crazy.'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20531447.post-116882883611878549</id><published>2007-01-14T18:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T18:40:36.130-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goals</title><content type='html'>Tonight I'm going to write out 100 goals for myself. A girl at school did this when she was 13 and has made it through 55 of them so far. That's a big accomplishment. She's 19 now, but some of them are goals similar to 'quit chocolate for a year'. That would make the going slow.&lt;br /&gt; I won't be putting that one on mine...I don't see the point of going a year without chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rebecca came over and we napped all afternoon. It's nice to have a friend you can nap with, because it means you are comfortable with eachother and don't need to talk every minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning in church, the minister was talking, and I had the song " All I Can Do" by Chantel Kreviazuk stuck in my head, and right at the replay in my head of " all I can do is love you to pieces.." the minister said, " And we are called to love Him to pieces"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoa!? It's so weird when that happens. I've had it where the sentence in the book I'm reading matches what the man on the radio is saying as I read it.  The cool thing is I will now think about loving God to pieces when I hear that song. It might make me like that song.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116882883611878549?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116882883611878549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116882883611878549' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116882883611878549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116882883611878549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/goals.html' title='Goals'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20531447.post-116865892672019744</id><published>2007-01-12T19:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T19:28:46.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a bit more...</title><content type='html'>My Kingdom Seekers are, Kristen, Kayla, Esther, Bernita and Danielle. They are all smiley, talkative, with 10x more energy than me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Badge Night was crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The books from my childhood thing worked really well. We got everything done on the badge that we could, and I told Kristen and Danielle that they can help me out in the library on Sunday morning as part of the badge. (eek...what did I say?)&lt;br /&gt;      I don't know..I just love Kingdom Seekers..it is one of the huge highlights of my week. After they were tired of badge work I did some relay races with them to burn some energy, and since Kayla wasn't there tonight, we had 2 teams of 2, and I had them run up the lanes-pathways-walkways whatever they are called in the sanctuary (?anyone? My classroom is the sanctuary by the way.) and then leap frog back to me and the first team back won. It was soo funny. I could tell they were tired after awhile, they were all sweaty and red faced and out of breath but when I asked them if they wanted to quit they said no, and sat on my feet because my feet were freezing cold.&lt;br /&gt;   The best part of the night was when I had to use a firm tone of voice and tell them that they needed to be quiet when I was talking...and we talked for a bit after my 'tone time' about our group and how I wanted us to be a good group that has fun and learns a lot... And they all started chiming in with things like " I love our group! I don't want it to ever change! You better be our counselor next year...OR ELSE! hehehehe!!!"   Awwww!! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Benjamin was funny the other day; he's got a sense of humour that is just starting to come out.  It's always funny to discover a sense of humour in a serious person.&lt;br /&gt;I had been telling a story at supper time about some of the women at school talking about the clothes they used to wear back in the day. One such article was tight, highwaisted pants with torn knees with a bit of lace at the pocket and a leather belt. LOL. Anyway, Dad said something about low waisted pants being in when &lt;em&gt;he&lt;/em&gt; was young, and then Benjamin says, " When I was a baby we had highwaisted cars" And then he threw back his head and laughed and it was just so funny because he thought he was being funny. I love that kid..he rocks my world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, so I stop sounding like a Mom...I need to celebrate really bad. I am just about done school, I finished a project that just about killed me, and I am finished all the tests I'll ever need to do at Marvel!!  So if anyone wants to go out and get a coffee or a drink or something let's go because I'm so ready for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116865892672019744?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116865892672019744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116865892672019744' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116865892672019744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116865892672019744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/bit-more.html' title='a bit more...'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116864085612144361</id><published>2007-01-12T14:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T14:27:36.140-08:00</updated><title type='text'>KS</title><content type='html'>I have Kingdom Seekers tonight. It's badge night. I'm doing the reading badge with my girls. They will probably complain a bit, but I know that deep down inside they just love reading and they love spending time with me (lol) so we could do any boring thing and still have fun.&lt;br /&gt;I found a bunch of books I read when I was their age. That should help things along a bit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116864085612144361?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116864085612144361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116864085612144361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116864085612144361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116864085612144361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/ks.html' title='KS'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116838504188113425</id><published>2007-01-09T14:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T15:24:01.943-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quotes</title><content type='html'>At GBS last night we were talking about everything as usual, when Laura said, " yeah..it's like a watermelon coming out of a ...melon." about giving birth. :0  Marlene and Mark are So having a girl. We know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cut my finger at school today. It's a hairdressing school-we are around scissors all day long- and yet the only bandaid I was able to find was in the purse of one of my classmate's mom. It had been in there a long time too. It looked a bit like how a gum wrapper looks after you crush it up a bunch of times, spit on it, and hold it in your palm all day long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it worked, so I won't complain. I should probably bring my own bandaids, except I'd be handing them out so often I wouldn't have any when I need them. Wait...maybe the other girls had bandaids but wouldn't give me any for that reason! ..that's eye opening...   I do that with tylenol and advil. I don't bring any because I just hand them out at the first request and pretty soon they are all gone and I get home and my Mother wonders what I'm going through to need that much medication.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116838504188113425?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116838504188113425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116838504188113425' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116838504188113425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116838504188113425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/quotes.html' title='Quotes'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20531447.post-116820482554776136</id><published>2007-01-07T13:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-07T13:20:25.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby</title><content type='html'>I just love babies...&lt;br /&gt;I love they way they look around, and crawl, and their expressions and how they see things and how they smell. mmhmm. I would much rather change a baby then clean up after a dog. I like it because they are people, and you never know how much they are taking in at that point. It's possible that they will remember everything and it will all come back to haunt you later.&lt;br /&gt;" I remember when I was 3 you told me that dogs were boys and cats were girls." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was told that as a kid. And that you had to take a bath in pee to get rid of the skunk smell if one happened to spray you. I think that was from my Grandpa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amber was sick this morning...:( poor pooky. I said that in a grownup way, not in a cutsy tone of voice. I hate it when parents are like  " HeyBoofy! you wanna pway with daddy? Where's daddy? Where's Daddy? Wanna Pway with Daddy? Ya!? Yaaaa??!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, it's sometimes alright, but there is a time and place for everything. I'm a firm believer that kids know more than you think they do. Especially kids like my brother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116820482554776136?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116820482554776136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116820482554776136' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116820482554776136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116820482554776136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/baby.html' title='Baby'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116810285595310178</id><published>2007-01-06T08:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-06T09:00:55.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hello World&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116810285595310178?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116810285595310178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116810285595310178' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116810285595310178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116810285595310178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/hello-world.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116795704447409645</id><published>2007-01-04T16:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T16:30:44.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't figure it out and that's ok.</title><content type='html'>My parents were just walking towards the door, about to drive away in their jeep for  'date night' (probably going to Rona) when my Mom said, " Maybe we shouldn't leave the kids here alone with Nicole..." (Nicole is Katie's rebellious-middle-child friend. Who isn't actually rebellious at all, it was their attempt at a joke)&lt;br /&gt;Then Katie yells after them as they exit the house; giggling together, " Don't worry! Tam is here! She's old!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hhaaaaaackk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      So I'm considering being Campfire staff strongly. Not because of me being old, it's a new topic. I'm just trying to earn support from my parents who think I should work and not &lt;em&gt;not &lt;/em&gt;work anymore. because I've been doing that for a long time. I think I was up to a year, then worked for like 3 months, and now it's been 3 weeks since I had a real job. yay! freedom!  Maybe I can find something for a few months again, and then be a campfire-er for 2 months. sounds lovely.&lt;br /&gt;  It's all up to God, He's doing something complex and unclear right now, but like all His plans, they will come clear according to His timing, and they are always amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116795704447409645?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116795704447409645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116795704447409645' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116795704447409645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116795704447409645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-cant-figure-it-out-and-thats-ok.html' title='I can&apos;t figure it out and that&apos;s ok.'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20531447.post-116779299826003160</id><published>2007-01-02T18:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T18:56:38.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Change of attitude</title><content type='html'>I'm really glad I didn't keep writing tonight and ate supper instead. I had an awful day, and realized that I was pulled back into the world I have become a part of *instantly* after this past weekend. The entire weekend I was who I used to be, or could be if I wasn't so distracted and misled and everything, and today I switched back to the Tamara I am when I'm at school. And it really isn't the Tamara I should be, or want to be. It's an unhappy Tamara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All weekend at Campfire I was around people who are smart, interesting, level headed, talented, fun, happy, helpful, friendly, FUNNY, and always ready to sing and I had the time of my life. I'm not going to be that Tamara who is depressed and unhappy with her life, because I can't handle it. I can't handle it. I hope by saying that twice that I've convinced myself a bit. I'm just going to write about the cool people I saw this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reading Ben's xanga just now. I just became friends with him, we met before at my church for yps one night, but I now consider him a friend. He is amazing because when you see him listening to someone, you can tell that he isn't just listening to their words, but is watching them talk and taking in things that most people don't see. It's nice to talk to people like that. While he is paying close attention, he's coming up with something to say that will probably be surprising and extremely deep, or hilarious. I think he's just one of the rare truly nice people. Anyway, he's asked people to pray for him, so pray we will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan is one of my dearest male friends ever. Ever since we've met I've looked up to him because he is solid and is constantly pointing conversations or teasing back into the right direction. And he doesn't do it in a self righteous way, and that's talent if you can say " Guys, let's not talk about that anymore" and not sound like a jerk and make everyone feel like bigger jerks. I think it's because he usually laughs too, then goes " oops.." which is more real. The other day before we left he said some nice things to me and I didn't appear to have heard him, but I did, and it meant a lot, and I wish I had said something back to him because I think he is a lot of fun too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashley...Another person I've met before but didn't get to know until this weekend. I saw her at the right to life rally in hamilton and remember liking her hair and thinking she looked like a cool person. I was right! She was in my cabin and was on my side in the arguement about hot or cold being better to sleep in. I think cold is better. We talked until 2:30 about lots of things including brothers and sisters and I can't wait to see her again because she's awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nadine is always sweet... And she has a lot to say. I can't believe how smart and thoughtful she is. She still calls me Tammy, but that's alright because she's allowed. The past 500 times I've seen her she's volunteering for something and that speaks volumes about who she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris, is Nadine's brother, and an awesome guy. He tries really hard and has a funny laugh. He was my friend when I was cold and lonely. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cassy hugs me as tight as she can every time she see's me. She calls me Tambabes. which would be really weird from anyone else. lol. Cassy, you rock. You are really fun and I think you give people energy because you have too much. By the way, I'm thinking about the no clothes for a year thing too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anton...There is nothing false about you at all, and that is what makes you so special. You totally spat on me like 3 times this weekend, but it's ok. lol. Driving up with you and Mark was fun..thanks for inviting me like 4 months ago, haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josina...I called you LaSina and that's weird because I'd never seen your blog. So maybe I heard someone call you that. Anyway, it was great getting to know you. You aren't easily embarassed and just do things and I wish I was more like that. You have a beautiful smile and I'll draw you again sometime and this time you can face me and I'll attempt those eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan... You kind of float around and appear and make people laugh and then suddenly you are gone, and then you appear and say something deep and then you go and help someone or sing and play guitar and then you run off and talk to your sister or mom and then you are gone again.  It's like you are everywhere and everyone knows you. I think you are an awesome guy and I'm so happy I know you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony...Uh, sorry for getting frustrated when I talk to you. It's actually really good for me to talk to someone who knows everything.  It gets something out of my system.. lol. Anyway, you go ahead and live on the edge and break your legs and everything, I think that's cool. You probably won't read this, but this weekend was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I came home and my family attacked me and yelled happy New Year and hugged me to death and said something along the lines of " New years isn't fun without you girls at home" so I felt special and I love my family like crazy. It's so not worth it to treat them like dirt, because they don't change that much. mm...I'm so blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a few New Years resolutions this year. I usually don't make any and just tell myself that I should be bettering myself all the time, not just once  ayear. But I'm going to make some this year. It's good to have something to work towards.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116779299826003160?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116779299826003160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116779299826003160' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116779299826003160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116779299826003160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/change-of-attitude.html' title='Change of attitude'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116778027250171440</id><published>2007-01-02T15:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T15:24:32.516-08:00</updated><title type='text'>yikes</title><content type='html'>I went back to school today. It wasn't a really great day.&lt;br /&gt;I spent the weekend having more fun than I should, because it makes normal stuff really not great.Although today wasn't a normal day, it was a bad day. And it would have been a bad day if it were surrounded by normal days.&lt;br /&gt;What is it with life and swinging thousands of things at once. For instance, I have school, stuff at school, car, this friend with a problem, my happy/sad attitude, stupid guys, nice guys, super nice guys that I don't want to hurt. blind date, no job, not wanting to do anything and then wanting to do everything all at once.&lt;br /&gt;I keep telling myself to simplify, but open spaces get filled with stuff like sitting around without motivation, which leads to guilt and generally not being happier than I was when I was swamped.&lt;br /&gt;I think holidays are a blessing and a curse, because for a few days afterwards, you feel worse than you ever would if you hadn't gone on holiday at all. Although maybe you'd have a mental break down without a holiday, and that could be worse. My life hasn't come to that yet!&lt;br /&gt;Oh. I'm not done talking, but it's supper time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I've tried a million times to look at you differently, but I can't.&lt;br /&gt;I've never looked at you differently, and suddenly I am, and it's easy, and it's surprising.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116778027250171440?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116778027250171440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116778027250171440' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116778027250171440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116778027250171440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2007/01/yikes.html' title='yikes'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116740995867689355</id><published>2006-12-29T08:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-29T08:32:38.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>www.toothpastefordinner.com</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6013/2060/1600/35163/going-bald-on-top.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6013/2060/320/78186/going-bald-on-top.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that most of these comics are dumb.&lt;br /&gt;well, dumb is a bit harsh.&lt;br /&gt;Kind of like the comics that I write and then throw out.&lt;br /&gt; But some are strangely funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116740995867689355?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116740995867689355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116740995867689355' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116740995867689355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116740995867689355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/12/wwwtoothpastefordinnercom.html' title='www.toothpastefordinner.com'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116724470734816866</id><published>2006-12-27T10:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-27T10:38:27.360-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We got a new phone</title><content type='html'>And it's cordless.&lt;br /&gt; The first time my huge family has ever had a cordless phone. I've had trouble for 20 years to have a private conversation. yes. Not that I have too many that need to be secret, but you know what I mean. It gets annoying when you get off the phone and the 6 people who have gathered in the room say things like, " Who was that?" " Rebecca who?" "Your going to be home for dinnner, right?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, my brother Benjamin thinks he knows everything. His ego has been growing for a while now, and it's beginning to be too big for his body. and his brain. He was putting a record on at my Grandparents house on their record player, and he had no idea what he was doing, so I did most of it and then told him, " ok, The song is good, the volume is good, and the record is good...don't touch" and he turns to me and says, " Tam. I know more about this than you do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ha.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, he was trying out the new phone, and decided to call his buddy Kristopher. Mom helped him dial the number, then handed it to him. " Hello? Kristopher!?"&lt;br /&gt;We told him he should wait for Kristopher to pick up before he started talking...he barely gives us a look and continues, " Kristopher, it's Benjamin Speaking. Kristopher? Are you there? Kristopher...helllooooo" And we asked him if it was ringing, and he said it was, and then he said, " I have to, so he knows who's calling. He has CALLER DISPLAY"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this moment, he and Laura are taking turns hiding the phone and sending the other to find it guided only by the phone's beep. aahh...I wish I was out of this house and not doing a project. I can't even blame myself and get over it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116724470734816866?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116724470734816866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116724470734816866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116724470734816866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116724470734816866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/12/we-got-new-phone.html' title='We got a new phone'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116709704575825762</id><published>2006-12-25T17:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-25T17:37:25.770-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's that time of year...</title><content type='html'>Merry Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Occassionally I play match maker, and this is one of those times.  It's never brought on by my own genious, but by something both members of the match have said. It's great because it's partly their fault that way. I just listen closely. Forget &lt;em&gt;knowing&lt;/em&gt; your friends well enough to pair them off, I'm not gifted that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Neither of them know who the other is, which is the hardest part of setting up a blind date. (I actually think they have a clue, but I'm not confirming anything)   It's fun because it's almost like having my own romance. WOW..that sounded pathetic. It's more like I get to play a part in a REAL story, instead of in a book or a movie. And it's really exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. Hope you are having a great Christmas and that you don't have to work on a stupid project or anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116709704575825762?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116709704575825762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116709704575825762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116709704575825762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116709704575825762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/12/its-that-time-of-year.html' title='It&apos;s that time of year...'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116638034901666141</id><published>2006-12-17T10:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-17T10:32:30.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Merry Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told my family that we were taking family pictures after church this morning.&lt;br /&gt;Benj ran in some mud around the church.&lt;br /&gt;So did Laura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But besides that it turned out ok.&lt;br /&gt;I was looking at the pictures after and thought it would have looked much nicer outside with natural lighting, but there was no way everyone would agree after already standing for 10, 10!!! pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a sweet little baby at church named Amber. She's over a year old, so she can talk a bit. She's a foster child with a family from church and they've had her for a while now, and I fell in love with her the first time I saw her. If it were possible I would adopt her. She always puts her arms out to me to carry her when she sees me.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116638034901666141?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116638034901666141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116638034901666141' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116638034901666141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116638034901666141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/12/merry-christmas-i-told-my-family-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116570113994165335</id><published>2006-12-09T13:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-09T13:52:19.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Benj</title><content type='html'>Benjamin made a language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, he can't read it, or even remember most of the words, but he's darn good at thinking them up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He named it " Silver"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  " Loss!" pla  z'la f'la foo eek! losso foo G'leen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That translated says: "Yes! My yellow bread and magarine! Please and Thank you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was cutting his hair this morning, and he said " Can you cut my hair like Zach's?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Ok, history on Benjamin and his hair. He hated bangs for awhile, so he cut them off right to his scalp 3 times. Which meant a buzzcut and an unhappy me. Then he decided he liked long bangs. The longer the better. He was mad at me for a full day when I trimmed them during a haircut. Then he wanted to have flat hair, not sticking up at all. Anyway, so now he wants hair like Zach. which means absolutely gorgeous. Zach has the best hair ever.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I'll be able to keep up with the demands of this kid if it gets much worse, but for now it's kind of cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116570113994165335?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116570113994165335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116570113994165335' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116570113994165335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116570113994165335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/12/benj.html' title='Benj'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116528724048006571</id><published>2006-12-04T18:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T18:54:00.480-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey</title><content type='html'>I said to Tasha at school today,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Say  silk five times fast!"&lt;br /&gt;"silk, silk, silk, silk, silk..."&lt;br /&gt;"what do cows drink?"&lt;br /&gt;"milk"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no they don't...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does that one always work? My little brother asked me that the other day and had a great time laughing at me afterwards. It hurts a bit because he's 6 and knows more jokes than I do. He's got a mind like a steel trap. It hurts more because I've been told that one before, and it worked then too.&lt;br /&gt;GASP&lt;br /&gt;Huge realization.&lt;br /&gt; I'm just like my mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, a bit scary news, my car was acting funny the past little while and so my Dad called a man to get it fixed and we found out that there was something seriously wrong with something around the wheel area, and I could have been in a bad accident and it's kind of amazing that I wasn't. So that's not too cool, but it comes at a good time because adding a bit more drama to my storage of it goes pretty much unnoticed nowadays.&lt;br /&gt;  Is anyone else as surprised as I am to discover that I am a drama queen?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116528724048006571?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116528724048006571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116528724048006571' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116528724048006571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116528724048006571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/12/hey.html' title='Hey'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116520139699986813</id><published>2006-12-03T18:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T18:44:01.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Favorite Things</title><content type='html'>My bed in the morning when I have to get up&lt;br /&gt;Being clean&lt;br /&gt;Christmas smells&lt;br /&gt;Kingdom Seekers-Especially my girls&lt;br /&gt;Doing hair for friends&lt;br /&gt;Drawing when it's cozy inside and people aren't moving around a whole lot (easier to draw when they don't move)&lt;br /&gt;My sisters&lt;br /&gt;Knowing I've made someone's day better&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116520139699986813?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116520139699986813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116520139699986813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116520139699986813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116520139699986813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/12/my-favorite-things.html' title='My Favorite Things'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116476604312450633</id><published>2006-11-28T17:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T18:07:23.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beginnings.....Again</title><content type='html'>Hello World&lt;br /&gt;So I've got a new job recently. It was a bit of a whirlwind. Yeah, and no one knew I wanted a new job. I didn't either, lol.&lt;br /&gt; One day at school my teacher turned to me and asked if I was happy where I was. I said,&lt;br /&gt;"You mean where I'm sitting?"&lt;br /&gt;"No, where you work"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't really thought about it too extensively before she asked me that, but I knew that I wasn't planning on staying where I was forever, which says something about how happy I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so she told me about a salon in kitchener that was looking to hire reliable- hard- working -keen- to -learn apprentices and she thought I would "do awesome" there. SO that was pretty cool. Who would say no to that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I applied, and got it and started working there and then it hit me that now I have to hand in my 2 weeks notice and I won't be working at my old job and I won't even be welcome there anymore. Ouch..then I kind of crashed and it was a bad weekend last weekend trying to figure out if I was making a mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had just started to get comfortable where I was, and I just finally knew how to do everything and was starting to do better at stuff, and I was leaving??&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was really hard, but I took the new job and handed in my two weeks this afternoon. I'm a bit sad. Maybe I didn't really fit in and they thought I was young and naive, but that was just a challenge to prove myself. The atmosphere is super fun there, they are young and fashionable, and theres classic rock and disco playing most of the time. It was just a cool place. It still is a cool place, but I won't see it anymore. Kind of sad don't you think? :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Now I'm &lt;em&gt;starting&lt;/em&gt; again, which is a bit excited because I love starting new things. I don't like being the new person, but I have a feeling that this salon will be great. I already feel more confident there, and I don't think I will be looked down on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess what I mean is I will be considered an adult. Which is pretty cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116476604312450633?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116476604312450633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116476604312450633' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116476604312450633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116476604312450633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/11/beginningsagain.html' title='Beginnings.....Again'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116459463663840351</id><published>2006-11-26T18:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-26T18:30:36.653-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Night</title><content type='html'>Conversation I just had with Caleb:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Me-"Why are you plugging your ears?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "hmm..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You don't like the sound?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well..hmm..meh...gaah."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You don't want to tell me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"uh uh. well. I can't remember why."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116459463663840351?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116459463663840351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116459463663840351' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116459463663840351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116459463663840351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/11/sunday-night.html' title='Sunday Night'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116406461217252712</id><published>2006-11-20T15:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T15:16:52.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;!!!CELEBRATION!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  -passed 300 hr, 600hr, and 1000 hr written exams this morning.&lt;br /&gt;Plus some other stuff that I will write about later...lol. It was a very good Monday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116406461217252712?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116406461217252712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116406461217252712' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116406461217252712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116406461217252712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/11/celebration-passed-300-hr-600hr-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116396425107324643</id><published>2006-11-19T11:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T11:24:11.086-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Happy Thought #3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Psalm 73 touched my heart yesterday evening at young peoples. We read it during our lesson and I recognized it as a passage I wrote out a few months ago because it stood out from the page as I was reading. Sometimes I come across a verse that just seems to fit exactly. If I were to write how I felt right now, it would go something like this. Just less beautiful. :) Our lesson was on Jacob's wrestling with God. I think this verse relates to anyone who is trying to live as a christian, but see the wealthy of the world and struggles with their flesh. Anyway, Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; " Truly God is good to Isreal,&lt;br /&gt; To such as are pure in heart.&lt;br /&gt;But as for me, my feet had almost stumbled;&lt;br /&gt;My steps had nearly slipped.&lt;br /&gt;For I was envious of the boastful,&lt;br /&gt;When I saw the prosperity of the wicked.&lt;br /&gt;For there are no pangs in their death,&lt;br /&gt;But their strength is firm.&lt;br /&gt;They are not in trouble as other men.&lt;br /&gt;Nor are they plagued like other men.&lt;br /&gt;Therefore pride serves as their necklace;&lt;br /&gt;Violence covers them like a garment.&lt;br /&gt;Their eyes bulge with abundance;&lt;br /&gt;They have more than heart could wish.&lt;br /&gt;They scoff and speak wickedly concerning oppression;&lt;br /&gt;They speak loftily.&lt;br /&gt;They set their mouth against the heavens.&lt;br /&gt;And their tongue walks through the earth.&lt;br /&gt;Therefor his people return here,&lt;br /&gt;And waters of a full cup are drained by them.&lt;br /&gt;And they say, " How does God know?&lt;br /&gt;And is there knowledge in the Most High?"&lt;br /&gt;Behold, these are the ungodly,&lt;br /&gt;Who are always at ease;&lt;br /&gt;They increase in riches.&lt;br /&gt;Surely I have cleansed my heart in vain.&lt;br /&gt;And washed my hands in innocence.&lt;br /&gt;For all day long I have been plagued,&lt;br /&gt;And chastened every morning.&lt;br /&gt;If I had said, " I will speak thus,"&lt;br /&gt;Behold, I would have been untrue to the generation of Your children.&lt;br /&gt;When I thought how to understand this, It was too painful for me-&lt;br /&gt;Until I went into the sanctuary of God;&lt;br /&gt;Then I understood their end.&lt;br /&gt;Surely you set them in slippery places;&lt;br /&gt;You cast them down into destruction.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, how they are brought to desolation, as in a moment!&lt;br /&gt;They are utterly consumed with terrors.&lt;br /&gt;As a dream when one awakes,&lt;br /&gt;So, Lord, when You awake,&lt;br /&gt;You shall despise their image.&lt;br /&gt;Thus my heart was grieved,&lt;br /&gt;And I was vexed in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;I was so foolish and ignorant;&lt;br /&gt;I was like a beast before You.&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless I am continually with You;&lt;br /&gt;You hold me by my right hand.&lt;br /&gt;You will guide me with Your counsel,&lt;br /&gt;And afterward recieve me to Glory.&lt;br /&gt;Whom have I in heaven but You?&lt;br /&gt;And there is none upon earth that I desire besides You.&lt;br /&gt;My flesh and my heart fail;&lt;br /&gt;But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.&lt;br /&gt;For indeed, those who are far from You shall perish;&lt;br /&gt;You have destroyed all those who desert You for harlotry.&lt;br /&gt;But it is good for me to draw near to God;&lt;br /&gt;I have put my trust in the Lord God,&lt;br /&gt;That I may declare all your works."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116396425107324643?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116396425107324643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116396425107324643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116396425107324643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116396425107324643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/11/happy-thought-3-psalm-73-touched-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116388795682598042</id><published>2006-11-18T13:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-18T14:12:38.393-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday</title><content type='html'>Reconstruction on Tamara :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Happy Thought # 2 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I absolutely Love Love LOVE my little brother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116388795682598042?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116388795682598042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116388795682598042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116388795682598042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116388795682598042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/11/saturday.html' title='Saturday'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116382204592699000</id><published>2006-11-17T19:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T19:54:05.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a lack of trying...or just too pressured</title><content type='html'>I like my weekdays better than my weekends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I approach Monday badly, but once I'm into the week I just love it. And then Saturday rolls around and I work, which goes ok, then I go home and try to do the millions of things I need to do right now this minute and just wish I could sleep. (sometimes I do-and then I feel guilty) then Saturday evening it gets worse. And Sunday...just bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmm....I wish my Sundays were lovely like they used to be. But I'm in tears by the evening  most weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I just can't keep up. I have too much to do but I can't prioritize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, tell me I'm messed up. I'm really sensitive too, so don't actually tell me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I just realized that I could write on and on forever about depressing things and that I'm depressed and how this and that makes me feel.  Thats dumb, I have always been a happy person. I could make amazing dark depressing art work. I &lt;em&gt;could&lt;/em&gt; do that, but I know I wont. It's just something I realized today. I don't know if it would make me feel better, thus it would accomplish nothing. lol No one from my art school would believe I did it. They used to comment when I used black in my art at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Resolution: Focus on Joy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;First happy thought: I get to go to bed now and read my bible and stop thinking in this downward way!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116382204592699000?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116382204592699000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116382204592699000' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116382204592699000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116382204592699000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/11/lack-of-tryingor-just-too-pressured.html' title='a lack of trying...or just too pressured'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116372826231677915</id><published>2006-11-16T17:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-16T17:51:02.333-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SHAZAM</title><content type='html'>Yesss best post ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing to say!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You rock!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116372826231677915?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116372826231677915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116372826231677915' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116372826231677915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116372826231677915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/11/shazam.html' title='SHAZAM'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116338668707370809</id><published>2006-11-12T18:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-12T18:58:07.086-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts...</title><content type='html'>My minister preached on persecution tonight. I was so happy to see him. Last week he traded spaces with the minister from the Flamborough Canadian Reformed Church, and while a change is nice, a change is not nice too, it just takes one to realize it. He said tonight, " Think about the people you spend time with who are not believers, are you influencing them, or are they influencing you?" I spend more time around unbelievers than believers- a first in my life. So that struck me, how can I expect to coast through life without confrontation? One way to do it is to be a hypocrite.  That's not really what I want though. Which is weird, why wouldn't I want the easy way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I was thinking about how I grew up in a Christian home. (which might have something to do with my little fire of passion. I wonder if unbelievers are more impressed with the Christians who became Christian's later in life. I think I would be.  When I think about my experiences at work, I get the impression that they may believe that when I go home at night, my parents crack a whip, feed me crusts, read me the bible and lock me in my room and I have no thoughts and make no choices of my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Reflecting on what I said a minute ago made me realize that it doesn't matter when you become a Christian, so long as you are talking about it in the first place. The Holy Spirit is what will make the difference, it won't be based at all on mere human thought of what is more impressive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank the Lord!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116338668707370809?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116338668707370809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116338668707370809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116338668707370809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116338668707370809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/11/thoughts.html' title='Thoughts...'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116295973748471492</id><published>2006-11-07T20:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T20:22:17.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss you</title><content type='html'>So last week Sharlene came over and I braided her hair in 114 little braids. It took four and a half hours. My brother figured out all the facts, like how many feet of braiding it was in total and whatever. It looks cool though, I'm going to try to get a picture on here eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I did really well on my Practical Exams this week....PHEW. One of my huge November events is over. Only 5 more to go.&lt;br /&gt;Oh-I still don't have MSN. We have a 1997-2000 version on this computer, but it doesn't work. I think it quit working on New Years Eve 1999. Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I saw the movie Nacho Libre tonight. CRAZY. I had to cover my eyes for the fighting parts. I hate watching wrestling. Especially when they pick up eachother upside down and smash their heads on the ground. The Movie Fly Away Home has a really bad wrestling scene with that happening. There's a loud crunch and everything. I can't stand it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm singing at the party.....It's my turn to sing....at the parrrty"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116295973748471492?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116295973748471492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116295973748471492' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116295973748471492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116295973748471492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-miss-you.html' title='I miss you'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20531447.post-116286937183081760</id><published>2006-11-06T18:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T19:16:12.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BlargMonday</title><content type='html'>It's been one of those days...&lt;br /&gt;*Monday, first of all. Enough said.&lt;br /&gt;*Exams.&lt;br /&gt;*My car broke&lt;br /&gt;*Bad news about a friend&lt;br /&gt;*Board Meeting&lt;br /&gt;*SO TIRED&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of which led me to thoughts like this: " I don't think I want to be a hairdresser." And " I want to move to Alberta!" And " Why is it that I have a million things I want to do but they all involve loads of waiting and money?" and " Why am I doing so many things I don't actually like doing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hairdresser means " One who dresses or cuts hair"  hmm....most of my classmates like calling themselves Hairstylists instead. It's newer and cooler. But when I looked it up...&lt;br /&gt;Hairstylist\sty-list\ HAIRDRESSER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another cooler thing is calling blowdrying, Blowstyling. ooo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  When my car broke I was really distracted because I felt suffocated and trapped like I've never felt at school before. It's funny how when your means of escape disappears you get a little crazy. Peter used to pace around the house and snap at everyone when his car had it's wheels off or broke. But my Dad saved me later. And when we got home again he fixed the computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Dad is Officially Super Dad:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The CYA retreat was this past week. I drove up by myself on Saturday morning. Travelling is good, when you go with someone. After an hour of driving I was bored silly. And I never stop unless someone else wants to. lol.   It was an odd day...I knew I'd only know a few people, but I wanted to go anyway, thinking I'd just make new friends...but I don't know. The morning was fun, and I was so happy to be there that you could have smacked me and I'd laugh. But by lunch I was feeling really lost, and just after I was considering leaving..I was going to run off when no one was looking...but I ended up staying until basically the end. It got better and there were a few nice girls who talked to me :) It mostly made me realize yet again that if some one new is in your circle, it's hundreds of times easier for you to say hi than them.&lt;br /&gt; Was it good that I went - considering I was alone? I have no idea. But you make choices and live with them right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116286937183081760?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116286937183081760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116286937183081760' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116286937183081760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116286937183081760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/11/blargmonday.html' title='BlargMonday'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116243944816459901</id><published>2006-11-01T19:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T19:50:48.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>looks are deceiving</title><content type='html'>The funny thing about those little carrots...wait...I'll find the real name;  'baby peeled carrots', the funny thing about those baby carrots is they aren't that good. But you take one anyway, because they &lt;em&gt;look&lt;/em&gt; good. And then you are forced to keep eating them, hoping to discover one that actually tastes like a carrot and not like dirt. And to mask the taste of the dirt-like one.&lt;br /&gt;In Alberta we grew carrots. And they were amazing. When they tasted like dirt at least it was real dirt...nice and black and healthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I went on a sleep over last night. I don't like them as much as I used to. It must be a sign that I'm getting old, because I'd rather be in my own bed. Anyway...Tong Tong and I colored her hair and it turned green. She laughed..I cried- Then at school today I was told what I did wrong and now I can fix it! Learning is fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She writes her name like this:  ToNg tOnG   &lt;br /&gt;My chinese name is Toh Maina&lt;br /&gt;And Riki's is RingKay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=======================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  My friend Laura M has a link from her blog to mine with a heart next to it. 5 Things about Laura that I love.&lt;br /&gt;1. She's a total sweetheart&lt;br /&gt;2. She is in tune with emotions&lt;br /&gt;3. She knows when to say something and when to just hug you.&lt;br /&gt;4. She remembers you when you aren't standing in front of her.&lt;br /&gt;5. She talks so cute ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love you Laura!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116243944816459901?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116243944816459901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116243944816459901' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116243944816459901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116243944816459901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/11/looks-are-deceiving.html' title='looks are deceiving'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116218025280585015</id><published>2006-10-29T19:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T19:50:55.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Site...</title><content type='html'>datetosave.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is this world coming to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's not me by the way. We just have a common name.&lt;br /&gt;I found it when I was doing the 'Tamara needs' google search. but it went a little random.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, according to Google&lt;em&gt; I&lt;/em&gt; have great needs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.Tamara needs to meet with Ben and discuss options.&lt;em&gt; Ben, we need to discuss options.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Tamara needs a good..... Date  &lt;em&gt;lol...Calv!!!MOvie NIGHT!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.Tamara needs people to be on this committee to define and share the work. &lt;em&gt;Amen.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.Tamara needs to live a full life without limits. &lt;em&gt;mmmHMmmm&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.Tamara needs to catch up with the times and become aware of the new technologies of today. &lt;em&gt;(i.e. Cell phone)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.Tamara needs someone to just totally rock her world.&lt;em&gt;Yes...I really do. Where the heck are you?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Tamara needs to be an RN. &lt;em&gt;...I had no idea.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.Tamara needs more mate-. rial. &lt;em&gt;(It was written like this exactly-and I don't know what it means.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.Tammy Needs Your Help Now. &lt;em&gt;Where the heck are you!!?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.Tamara definitely needs the lead role in something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      I've had the lead role in a play...I was Bottom on a Midsummer Night's Dream. siigh....I love shakespear. I &lt;em&gt;don't &lt;/em&gt;love looking back  on that play-I had to turn into a donkey, fall in love with a woman and sing by myself in front of a crowd of people. I am a different person today-I know it. I wouldn't be able to do that anymore.&lt;br /&gt;    Nothing that remarkable has happened lately.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116218025280585015?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116218025280585015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116218025280585015' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116218025280585015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116218025280585015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/10/crazy-site.html' title='Crazy Site...'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20531447.post-116182383835425782</id><published>2006-10-25T17:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T17:50:38.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I was</title><content type='html'>I was just typing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't typing anything that interesting or hard to type, so I looked down at my hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not because I have to search for the keys anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or because I have bright orange nails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for whatever reason, I looked at my hands and noticed that they are really old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, 'really' may be pushing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in comparison to&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; before&lt;/span&gt; Marvel they are super old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point is, Hairdressers deserve tips because their work makes them get old looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HEHE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;come to think of it, I think I did look at my hands because of the orange polish. But who cares.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116182383835425782?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116182383835425782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116182383835425782' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116182383835425782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116182383835425782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-was.html' title='I was'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20531447.post-116165883934759497</id><published>2006-10-23T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-23T20:00:39.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm cursed with wells!</title><content type='html'>Well, turns out most of the guys I know are smart &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;beautiful, and the girls are humble... That makes it sound like I know about 3 guys, because if that were true, then having 2 guys say they were smart and beautiful really &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; most of the guys I know.&lt;br /&gt;  But I know more than 3 guys, so I guess my first sentence was a lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to have the most amazing portfolio ever. When I am almost done school I need to hand it in. I have about 3 1/2 months to make it. teehee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  The fall colors in Burlington are beautiful right now...I almost hit the mini van in front of me while I was looking at them. That would have been bad because that mini van had lots of expensive sound equipment in it. It would have been bad for my car too. And I don't think I would have been able to get over it. So anyway. I love fall. mmmhmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  My sister:&lt;br /&gt;" AHhh! heehahahe!! It's like, Waaaahhh cathunk WhoootWOOTblachm..hahahahaha! Siigh!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other sister is funny too. But I find it hard to remember everything she says because it's usually long winded and complicated. I laugh at the time, and then forget. Caleb remembers everything. He remembered the stupid thing I said in the car on the way to school the other day and said it at the dinner table tonight. wheeeee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I have a big test on wednesday. but I forgot to bring my textbook home. So I went to Peter and Candice's and cut hair and watched corner gas. And I was this happy about not studying electricity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116165883934759497?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116165883934759497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116165883934759497' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116165883934759497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116165883934759497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/10/im-cursed-with-wells.html' title='I&apos;m cursed with wells!'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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-20531447.post-116139943630841978</id><published>2006-10-20T19:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-20T19:57:16.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a diploma...cool</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I can still smell that bad breath....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight was my McMaster Grad. YAY! I finally had a graduation ceremony. It was my first ever. In grade 8 Mom said this, " Lets buy you a dress and we'll take you out for dinner and get pictures done!"......I got a dress.........a downside of being homeschooled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grade 12, I didn't really finish, so I went to highschool...and didn't really finish....and so I finally had a real grad to go to tonight and  I went. (Even though I didn't RSVP and thought I'd be denied entry.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I sat by a man with really bad breath. But he was a smart man. And most of the people walking across that platform were very smart, but none of them seemed to care about their hair or weight or teeth or breath, but they were smart! So does it matter? Maybe you can't be smart AND beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20531447-116139943630841978?l=tamaravk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/feeds/116139943630841978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20531447&amp;postID=116139943630841978' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116139943630841978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20531447/posts/default/116139943630841978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaravk.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-have-diplomacool.html' title='I have a diploma...cool'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14946058354519745380</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></feed>
