<?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-3109524412973347219</id><updated>2011-09-19T07:14:09.514-07:00</updated><category term='Thursday'/><category term='Deuce'/><title type='text'>This is my life, unscripted.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>233</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4022994575017058015</id><published>2011-07-16T01:34:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-16T01:44:33.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm here!</title><content type='html'>How is it already July? Seriously? No, really? School starts back up in about 2 weeks. I cannot believe it. I had a list of things that I was going to do this summer. I haven't even started it yet! Yikes. But, lets not talk about it anymore. I don't want to feel unproductive. &lt;br /&gt;I decided to sign up for this math project. I don't know who but someone is giving me lots of money to do this. The only downfall is that next week I have to give up my whole week to learn about math. And during the school year once a month I have to give up an entire Saturday and one day a month 4 hours after school. &lt;br /&gt;Monday should be very interesting. My sleep schedule is backwards. I went to Vegas at the beg. of July and ever since then my sleep has been very abnormal. My normal hours right now are 730am-300pm. Yes, while most of the world is out at work I am in bed snoozing away. Then I stay up all night. It's very crazy. But, one nice thing is going outside at 6 to do yard stuff. Monday morning I need to leave the house at 730 am. Again Monday is going to be a very interesting day. &lt;br /&gt;I have some new things that I'm implementing into my life. One of them I have to re-start.&lt;br /&gt;1. I am doing an organization program to get things in order. Right now it's just a transition so I have different things to do each day.&lt;br /&gt;2. Not spending any money unless it's something I need, not want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess which one is harder?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4022994575017058015?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4022994575017058015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4022994575017058015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4022994575017058015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4022994575017058015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/07/im-here.html' title='I&apos;m here!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-7074468507004180180</id><published>2011-05-25T23:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T23:39:29.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I made it</title><content type='html'>Today was the last day of school.  The rowdy boys wore me out but I made it.  I had 6 sweet and lovely girls and 15 boys ( 9 who were handfuls and they fed of each other).  My class this year has been a lot of fun and very entertaining.  It will be nice to see my students next year (I'm looking forward to it) and it will be even better knowing they now belong to another teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next years 1st grade class is small and they are so friendly, calm, and sweet (they wave and try to hug us).  I cannot wait!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-7074468507004180180?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/7074468507004180180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=7074468507004180180' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7074468507004180180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7074468507004180180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-made-it.html' title='I made it'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-8883099723850988436</id><published>2011-05-24T19:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T23:34:42.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can Do It!</title><content type='html'>I love 1st graders!  Mostly because the kids crack me up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was putting together my students writing folders.  I came across one of the district writing samples that we have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their promt was to write about going to the park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my boys wrote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom can do it.&lt;br /&gt;My grandma can do it.&lt;br /&gt;My dad can do it.&lt;br /&gt;He can do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&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/3109524412973347219-8883099723850988436?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/8883099723850988436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=8883099723850988436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/8883099723850988436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/8883099723850988436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-can-do-it.html' title='I Can Do It!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-872100423241893529</id><published>2011-05-09T20:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T20:45:15.199-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2-weeks Ago</title><content type='html'>Was the week of weird things being said to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to some teachers at work after our school carnival.  One asked me if I was a lesbian after I said I wasn't really interested in dating men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a guy on a dating site wrote me and told me I was getting kinda of old to have kids. That I'm more at risk for having a kid with downs.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to think that there is a guy out there for me, you know one that wants to be with a lesbian that's going to have a downs baby!  ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-872100423241893529?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/872100423241893529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=872100423241893529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/872100423241893529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/872100423241893529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/05/2-weeks-ago.html' title='2-weeks Ago'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-3365631375825087110</id><published>2011-05-09T20:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T20:23:14.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping The Sun Out</title><content type='html'>When I got home from work on Friday.  I came out to the back yard to water the flowers. And I got the urge to wash all the screens and sunscreens.  Although my house is small I've got 12 windows.  It took awhile to get them washed, dried, popped, or clipped into place.  I didn't start out planning on doing the whole house.  All the screens and shades where in the garage leaded against the wall and I didn't really know what was out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the biggest windows is my bedroom window.  So I found the big sunshades and pulled them out.  I washed them.  Then I took one to the window and it was way too big.  I was very confused by this.  After all this is my biggest window.  That night I learned that they make shades for patio doors.  They had to be screwed in and well I wasn't sure how they work so I put then aside and went to find smaller ones for the bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured out the bedroom windows.  And from there I was able to narrow down what went there.  I just kept narrowing down sizes and what went where until they were all up.  Now I know that I have 6 different sized windows.  A few days ago I would have said 3.  &lt;br /&gt;I got them all up.  I didn't get then ad clean as I wanted.  But my mom said they are very hard to clean.  &lt;br /&gt;Saturday I woke up and figured out how the sunscreens go on the sliding doors. &lt;br /&gt;I am very proud of myself for doing this.  Which may seem silly to most people.  I just don't do stuff like this.  I call my mom or dad (depending on what it is) and they do it for me.  Parents always do things better!  I need to grow up at some point and learn to do things on my own. It was hard work but since I got them all up correctly it feels good to have done it on my own.  Mom was pretty surprised and I'd like to think she was proud of me for doing it on my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-3365631375825087110?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/3365631375825087110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=3365631375825087110' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3365631375825087110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3365631375825087110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/05/keeping-sun-out.html' title='Keeping The Sun Out'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4403420033932550140</id><published>2011-04-20T19:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T19:38:51.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not again!</title><content type='html'>Over the weekend I went and got a pedicure with a friend.  And I forgot to close the bedroom door.  Someone went to town on the blinds in the office area on the door that leads to the backyard.  He left about half of them up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now both doors have no blinds or half.  I will replace the blinds in my office area, since the dogs usually don't have access to that room when I'm not home (as long as I remember to close the door when I leave).  In the living room I think I'm going to have to put up curtains.  Def. not something I ever thought about.  But, obviously we can no longer handle having blinds up. Until I decide what to do and find something that I like I have hung up a sheet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only have two sheets that I can use for the doors (unless I have some in one of the many unpacked boxes).  I had one of the sheets in my bedroom area on the window to block some of the light, even with the blinds that came with the house a lot of light came in.  I had to take that one so I had a little more privacy incase someone was peeking over the fence (yah I'm slightly paranoid about weird stuff).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was able to take a fitted sheet and hook it to the top of the window and the bottom window sill.  Makes me laugh when I walk in. Like a bed on the wall.  It works until I get blinds for that room.  I don't even know if you do curtains and blinds together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/04/20/2972.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/04/20/s_2972.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(excuse the black and white dog butt).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And instead of improving the house to make it better we are regressing.  Winning!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4403420033932550140?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4403420033932550140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4403420033932550140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4403420033932550140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4403420033932550140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/04/not-again.html' title='Not again!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-378608450976772392</id><published>2011-04-18T16:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T16:48:12.458-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ideas</title><content type='html'>I pretty much have a job for next year.  Nice that I don't need to figure out something else.  It will be my 3rd year and still no raise. I no money isn't everything, but it's a little important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have started thinking in my head a plan to make more money without having to go back to school and start back over.  Other states pay teachers 10k more on average.  So I am thinking of moving.  We're talking an extra 800 a month.  Why should I not try for that.  And I am single!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my plan:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I am at my school for 4 years or more if you give your notice early enough they will pay you for all the sick days you haven't used  (currently I have 16 days of sick time).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have the state retirement for 5 years on top of what you put in you will get 25% of what the school contributed (and they currently contribute 100% of the 9% we put in).&lt;br /&gt;* 6 years you get 40%&lt;br /&gt;* 7 years you get 55%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would keep this house.  I bought it planning to hang on to it.  And for how cheap it was will make it a lot easier.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I don't know is if I will rent it or keep it and stay in it when I come back during the summers.  If I want any extra spending money I think my only option would be renting.   But it would be cool to have a home to stay in when coming back to AZ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend is moving to another state, she is hoping this summer. So, this has got the wheels turning in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-378608450976772392?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/378608450976772392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=378608450976772392' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/378608450976772392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/378608450976772392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/04/ideas.html' title='Ideas'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-96210389987433433</id><published>2011-04-14T18:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T19:13:53.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So mad!</title><content type='html'>The worst part of coming home tonight should have been the poop on the floor.  (1st time it's happened since I moved).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I didn't close the blinds all the way.  Huge mistake!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is why I'm now a little on the grumpy side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5595627837898684978'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Taep3yU8-jI/AAAAAAAAAbg/j4n2QyvLkz4/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Notice there are only a few blinds.  Here is where most of them are.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5595618994802302242'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Taeh1DOenSI/AAAAAAAAAbU/n33oClPQQ90/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5595619031601534738'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Taeh3MUGVxI/AAAAAAAAAbY/FQ4NTuGzIUA/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5595619045740218226'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Taeh4A_Bh3I/AAAAAAAAAbc/KelYC65gWKw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I have ever been mad at the dogs.  But I am right now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&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/3109524412973347219-96210389987433433?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/96210389987433433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=96210389987433433' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/96210389987433433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/96210389987433433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/04/so-mad.html' title='So mad!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Taep3yU8-jI/AAAAAAAAAbg/j4n2QyvLkz4/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2043661111776101974</id><published>2011-04-13T17:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T17:51:29.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's my goal</title><content type='html'>And I don't want to think about how long it's going to take to get into these.  But these old jeans are my goal.  I don't care that they are about 5-7 years old.  Its my new goal (hopefully it doesn't take 5+ years to achieve!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5595235364074451778'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TaZE6zZcc0I/AAAAAAAAAbI/OM1j4o6RWXg/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5595235388523047634'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TaZE8OecatI/AAAAAAAAAbM/0zYbWFR0q7g/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&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/3109524412973347219-2043661111776101974?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2043661111776101974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2043661111776101974' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2043661111776101974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2043661111776101974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/04/here-my-goal.html' title='Here&amp;#39;s my goal'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TaZE6zZcc0I/AAAAAAAAAbI/OM1j4o6RWXg/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-6132064539275294821</id><published>2011-04-13T00:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T17:47:06.655-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's started</title><content type='html'>I started a real diet.  Def. not something that I plan out and try.  So far I'm down 10lbs.  The first two days were hard.  But, now I'm pretty use to it.  What makes it easy is that I am hardl ever hungry.  So that "need" to snack all the time is gone.  Another great thing is as lunch time I would just eat what I had. Now half the time I'm not in the mood for part of it or only want a few bites of whatever.  And then I'm done.  That's a lot of saved calories.  I need to start throwing in exercise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a goal yet.  I need one.  I could:&lt;br /&gt;Make a lot of short terms goals.&lt;br /&gt;Make a long term goal&lt;br /&gt;Have a time frame.&lt;br /&gt;There are a pair of pants I want to get into. I should find them and take a picture to remind myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited about these 10 lbs. and look foward to more sucess.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-6132064539275294821?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/6132064539275294821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=6132064539275294821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/6132064539275294821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/6132064539275294821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/04/it-started.html' title='It&amp;#39;s started'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4857515224042968804</id><published>2011-04-12T20:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T20:16:21.835-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need to finish unpaking</title><content type='html'>You would not know this unless you looked in the spare bedrooms.   I have oodless and oodless of things that need to be unpacked.  One room is filled with all sorts of stuff.  The other room has boxes of bathroom stuff - makeup, hair, and bath stuff.  Then there boxes of stuff that goes in my dresser drawers.  Although since the stuff is still in the spare room it's telling me that - I don't use it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are somethings I need to find asap.  I moved and packed in the winer time.  So I don't know where any capris are or my warmer weather shirts.  And I have no idea where my socks are.  I do have a pair of mismatched socks that I have used with sneakers.  Kinda silly that all my socks are in some unknown spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the messy spare room I have an older dresser.  It use to be my grandparents.  I love the shape and size.  Don't care for the wood color.  What I want to do this summer is to sand it down and paint it black. I don't know how hard that will be. I've read some blogs of people who have done this and have beautiful after pictures.  It doesn't seem too hard.  Maybe I should practice on my desk.  It's cheap and old.  Plus maybe that will help urge my need to buy the desk set that I love that's always in the PotteryBarn mag.  That magazine is Dangerous!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4857515224042968804?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4857515224042968804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4857515224042968804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4857515224042968804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4857515224042968804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-need-to-finish-unpaking.html' title='I need to finish unpaking'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4532981571641189789</id><published>2011-04-12T19:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T19:48:08.954-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shopping</title><content type='html'>I like to order clothes online.  And of course it comes with risks.  I was shopping tonight at Old Navy and Piperlime.  I think it's great that other people who have got the same item give their opinion and comment on their purchase. I love the people who put their height and size. I really wish people had to put their age and their fashion sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many times I read, "such a pretty print.". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that tells me nothing.  If the person is 60 we probably are not going to have the same opinion.  -or- a 30 year old who could careless about what they wear as long as it's comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need more details people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A side thought:  you can shop Piperlime, Banana Republic, Old Navy, Gap from the same sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I'm older I don't ever end up buying from Gap.  I'm my early 20's I was obsessed.  I serriously bought a new shirt or two from them every payday.  10 years later I've decided that --- there are only so many ways to do a solid color shirt.  I'm kinda over it. ;-)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4532981571641189789?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4532981571641189789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4532981571641189789' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4532981571641189789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4532981571641189789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/04/shopping.html' title='Shopping'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2934749806363507977</id><published>2011-04-08T16:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-08T16:40:44.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The ordeal is over</title><content type='html'>I still can't believe I had to get stitches.  I never planned on ever having to get them.  And I know this because I've thought about it before. When you have a phobia of needles and pain you tend to think about these sorts of things.  Or at least I do. Just like I was never going to have my wisdom teeth removed.   But when I was a young adult those came out too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just had a fire drill at the end of the day.  My kids were getting ready to be on the floor. I went to my rocking chair sat down and instantly got up.  Because I saw the scissors that were in my pocket were now sticking out and I could feel blood droplets in my hand.  I have one pair of small sharp scissors.  I rarley use them.  They are usually far in my desk with the guard on them.  I will never put scissors in my pockets again!&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;I have felt blood sliding down my skin before but have never felt drops of it.  Was the weirdest feeling ever.  I went over to the sink and could not get my finger to stop bleeding.  I sent my kids next door.  Most didn't notice what had happened. I went up to the office to get some gauze. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few people told me I needed stitches.  I told them I wasn't getting them but with several people telling me I started to get nervous.  I went to find my phone and the thought of having to get stitches gave me instant tears.  I called my mom and she told me she would meet me at my house to bandage it up or take me to urgent care.  She hardly even looked at it.  I was so nervous at urgent care.  I was pretty proud of myself.  I didn't cry.  The needles hurt and getting your skin stitched together feels so crazy.  You can feel your skin being tugged and pulled but it doesn't hurt.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a big event for me. And I am glad it's over.  I did pretty good (phobia wise). But I never want to go through that again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more stitches.  There goes my future in hand modeling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5593361851474877778'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TZ-c-BFhnVI/AAAAAAAAAbE/3YJG2TJRCYM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&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/3109524412973347219-2934749806363507977?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2934749806363507977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2934749806363507977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2934749806363507977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2934749806363507977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/04/ordeal-is-over.html' title='The ordeal is over'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TZ-c-BFhnVI/AAAAAAAAAbE/3YJG2TJRCYM/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-1967652218230029026</id><published>2011-03-24T20:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-24T20:00:08.189-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What did I do to myself?</title><content type='html'>This will be short, since this is all being typed by my left thumb.   On Tuesday I sliced my right thumb.  I'll blog about it later on.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WARNING: pictures of my stitches are below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5587846931535273026'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TYwFLbVqnEI/AAAAAAAAAa4/dQVWP1bDm8k/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ugly thumb with 5 stitches!  Still a little swollen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5587846950411481714'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TYwFMhqGsnI/AAAAAAAAAa8/Se13NfUI5xs/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is as far as I can bend my thumb.  I can only really bend the top part of my thumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5587846967595326562'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TYwFNhrDXGI/AAAAAAAAAbA/6jUr7_hthDY/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See how much my left thumb can bend at the base.  Yah can't do that with the right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has really slowed me down!  I can't believe how slow some things take me or how hard some things are to do now.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-1967652218230029026?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1967652218230029026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=1967652218230029026' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1967652218230029026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1967652218230029026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/03/what-did-i-do-to-myself.html' title='What did I do to myself?'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TYwFLbVqnEI/AAAAAAAAAa4/dQVWP1bDm8k/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2829360009004925082</id><published>2011-03-21T19:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T19:19:39.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My new friend</title><content type='html'>Smells great!  Can't wait to get it planted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5586723278243574722'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TYgHOModM8I/AAAAAAAAAa0/nOBwmGmlM2o/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-2829360009004925082?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2829360009004925082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2829360009004925082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2829360009004925082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2829360009004925082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/03/my-new-friend.html' title='My new friend'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TYgHOModM8I/AAAAAAAAAa0/nOBwmGmlM2o/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-7004314885301434566</id><published>2011-03-20T18:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T18:58:40.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Every woMANS dream!</title><content type='html'>I finally got around to getting hooks for my man area to hang up my entire 5 tools.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5586346735619762962'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TYawwiDHaxI/AAAAAAAAAas/oaNMQJyRFGw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5586346776282689170'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TYawy5h6bpI/AAAAAAAAAaw/elCwyCXsUHM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad will be so proud!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-7004314885301434566?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/7004314885301434566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=7004314885301434566' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7004314885301434566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7004314885301434566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/03/every-womans-dream.html' title='Every woMANS dream!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TYawwiDHaxI/AAAAAAAAAas/oaNMQJyRFGw/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-7011252147946171075</id><published>2011-03-19T00:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T00:15:08.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Enough said</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5585686167130923058'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TYRX-Yqm4DI/AAAAAAAAAao/3zRRhtX2G6c/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='187' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-7011252147946171075?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/7011252147946171075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=7011252147946171075' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7011252147946171075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7011252147946171075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/03/enough-said.html' title='Enough said'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TYRX-Yqm4DI/AAAAAAAAAao/3zRRhtX2G6c/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4591678014612952748</id><published>2011-03-17T18:00:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-17T18:21:18.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love my job</title><content type='html'>I really do love my job. It takes up a lot of my time but I love going to work. I am going to stress how much I do like being a teacher. Because the rest of my blog isn't going to seem like it. I really do love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what I don't like about being a teacher. I am just finishing up my 2nd year. And this is the 2nd time I don't know if I will have a job next year. With the state making even more cuts to education. I don't know if they can afford to keep me on staff. And if I am one of the lucky ones that gets to stay I will either get paid less or if I am lucky I'll make the same amount. And to tell you the truth that really sucks. I've never had a job where each time it's time for a raise I hope to make the same amount of money. I've never had a job where you did not get at least an annual raise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know money is not everything. But my base salary is almost 5k less than what it was at my old job. And how long will it before I actually get a raise. I don't think I can do this for 5 years and never go up on the scale. I make extra money by working 2 hours after school, I went to a conference 3 days of my spring break just to make an extra $600. I'll spend 3 weeks of summer break to earn extra money. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I became a teacher I had a life. I went out and had fun. I went on a lot of fun trips. Now that I am a teacher I have no life. Teaching is pretty much all I do and it consumes my life. I work an average of 7:15-5:30 (when I do after school). I usually go in once on the weekend just to try to "catch up". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a job that is so rewarding intrinsically. Well is it worth it? I've always been obsessed with money. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lately I've been wondering if I should choose a different career. I've been toying with the idea of going back to school and getting some prereqs out of the way in science and in math. And if I am able to do well in those areas look into pursuing a degree in Pharmacy. It would probably take me until I'm 40 to finish. Okay maybe it won't take me 8 years but it would be awhile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thinking I might sign up to take one of the prereq courses this summer. And going from there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do love teaching. I just don't want to be dirt poor the rest of my life or have to work 10-12 hour days just to make ends meet.  :-(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This topic has been on my mind a lot lately.  After writing about it I feel sad...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4591678014612952748?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4591678014612952748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4591678014612952748' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4591678014612952748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4591678014612952748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-love-my-job.html' title='I love my job'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-645976015228270859</id><published>2011-03-15T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T23:19:46.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paint Colors</title><content type='html'>Those two little words stress me out.  My goal today was to go and get a brown paint and to have one brown wall.  That did not happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My furniture is black and my colors are brown with a light greenish/blue color.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kitchen: either want to do a light all over Carmel color -or- one light greenish/blue wall and the rest the Carmel color -or- all over greenish/blue color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living room: dark brown on the wall by the kitchen.  Part of that wall has a huge cut out so you can see into the kitchen.  I want the rest of the walls the carmel color.  There are two popouts (I don't know whatelse to call them) that are like an entry way arch down each hallway.  I think iwant those popouts to be the same brown color or the blueish green color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallways:  both the camelish color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guest bathroom: light turquoise blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laundry room: light yellow color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guest bedrooms:  I am thinking of just finding colors that I love and match the rooms to the colors (this will be something way down the road). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Master bedroom:  I really want to do a light gray color.  I just don't think it will go with the rest of the house.  I got a painting book and I loved a room that they had with light purple and white.  It looked great against black furniture.  I worry that i'll get sick of purple.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Master bedroom sitting room:  I've kinda turned it into the office. I could do a fun color.  It's kind of a darker room.  It doesn't have a window it does have a sliding door but I have it all locked up so I don't ever have to worry about forgetting to lock it.  I also keep the blinds closed so that room is always dark.  A bright fun color that goes with the bedroom and bathroom color might be fun.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will take me a long time to get this house painted.  Even though it's small.  The vaulted celings and all the little nitches and corners will be challenging for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figure I'll do the house in parts.  And I thought picking out a brown paint would be simple.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5584929727218525714'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TYGn_yZhJhI/AAAAAAAAAak/nyNMYz2hd70/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the brown color I liked earlier.  I liked the 3rd lightest color for the carmelish color.  And the 2nd darkest color for the brown.  However when I looked at the colors compared to my chair cushions I didn't like them together.   I am thinking I need to find more of a deeper darker brown to go with my color theme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully tomorrow I'll feel more paint adventurous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-645976015228270859?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/645976015228270859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=645976015228270859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/645976015228270859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/645976015228270859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/03/paint-colors.html' title='Paint Colors'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TYGn_yZhJhI/AAAAAAAAAak/nyNMYz2hd70/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-6971222765522446000</id><published>2011-03-14T20:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T20:37:37.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bling-bling</title><content type='html'>I am so excited about my new ring.  It's a little bigger than I expected (since I bought it online).  Can't wait to wear it on a hot date.  Of course I'll probably be admiring it more then he will.  ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5584145771646050562'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TX7e_kT2YQI/AAAAAAAAAag/C6W1XMwg1cU/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='187' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-6971222765522446000?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/6971222765522446000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=6971222765522446000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/6971222765522446000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/6971222765522446000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/03/bling-bling.html' title='Bling-bling'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TX7e_kT2YQI/AAAAAAAAAag/C6W1XMwg1cU/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-5636318919993718569</id><published>2011-03-13T13:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-13T13:34:37.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Break, already?</title><content type='html'>I cannot believe that it's already spring break.  Yesterday I woke up with the urge to get the garage unpacked and organized.  And if I don't get it done before the summer heat starts creeping around it won't get done.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;I've made a lot of progress. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5583665641345658722'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TX0qUTj2L2I/AAAAAAAAAaY/SRnSWe8M2pM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5583665686267339778'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TX0qW66ApAI/AAAAAAAAAac/xvxTpLWN6s0/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first moved in there was barely enough room to pull the car in and open the car.  Now there is lots of room.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;It looks so much better bt I Can't wait until the garage is done!   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-5636318919993718569?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5636318919993718569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=5636318919993718569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5636318919993718569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5636318919993718569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/03/spring-break-already.html' title='Spring Break, already?'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TX0qUTj2L2I/AAAAAAAAAaY/SRnSWe8M2pM/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-5423580208111966724</id><published>2011-03-12T12:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-12T12:25:07.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't do diets</title><content type='html'>They're just not for me.  In life i don't like restrictions or not being able to do something.  And in the case of a diet not be able to eat something.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Recently I gave up drinking sugar free energy drinks.  It was a staple of my morning rountine. It was how I functioned.  It was how I was able to smile and be civil early in the mornings.  In other words it was a bad habit, my drug of choice.  I didn't always drink energy drinks.  And really when it comes down to it how can something that color be good for your body.  Regarless of how many vitamins they cram onto the cans label.  &lt;br /&gt;And what I have learned since I stopped drinking them is I can function and be a nice person in the mornings without them.  Good ridence!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week an Atkins commercial came on.  For some reason I decided to check it out.  Now I've always thought adkins was ridiculous and the reasons for that was an old coworker would do the diet.  They would eat things like mounds or whipcream and dozens of slices of peporoni.  They never ate vegtables or fruit.  So this caused me to think the diet was absurded.  &lt;br /&gt;Well, when I looked up the information on Atkins I soon realized that the person I use to work with made their own varation of it and not really what the program promotes.  &lt;br /&gt;I'm going to try the program.  I need to do a little more research to start the induction stage. I'm pretty excited to begin.        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&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/3109524412973347219-5423580208111966724?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5423580208111966724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=5423580208111966724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5423580208111966724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5423580208111966724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-don-do-diets.html' title='I don&amp;#39;t do diets'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-5597206691601641071</id><published>2011-03-07T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T19:28:12.439-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Change In The Yard</title><content type='html'>Saturday I woke up early and went to HomeDepot.  It was time to dig up the huge weed in the backyard that I've been watering.  I found this cute guy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5581525457615366322'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TXWP1N32qLI/AAAAAAAAAaA/cuTglHkANwE/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Roryal Robe Potatoe Bush.  Apparently it can be trained to a tree form.  I don't think the dog liked having this in the front seat with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5581525507151868994'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TXWP4GaRtEI/AAAAAAAAAaE/0OGuV8lnCQ4/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was horrible getting the weed out but I finally got it.  The bush looks so small here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also bought these pretty things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5581525530545185762'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TXWP5djrY-I/AAAAAAAAAaI/vjjaf1irZO8/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now if I can just get the&lt;br /&gt; to stay this way I'll be a happy girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5581525551858825170'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TXWP6s9Pt9I/AAAAAAAAAaM/k5Ricw44R2U/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm slowly working on turning the patio into an inviting place but right now it's a dog napping area.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to replace some plants in the backyard.  I would still like low water plants but want some flowers and a little cohesiveness.  Next week is spring break and I can't decide if I should spend the last couple days painting or working on the yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here is a picture I snapped a few weekends ago of Deuce.  He likes to drag his big stuffed toys outside.  It gets old when he tries to take all 4 of them out each weekend.  Apparently one needed it's own bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5581525567909195954'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TXWP7ov88LI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/Z5LU4Q_D02M/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And l can't leave the other dog out since he now lives with me fulltime.  I got this pic the same weekend.  Probably right after I brought in some of the big toys.  Looks pretty comfy (he's the black in the pile).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5581525585880463586'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TXWP8rsouOI/AAAAAAAAAaU/QiKMyw853X0/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like when I'm able to capture these moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&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/3109524412973347219-5597206691601641071?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5597206691601641071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=5597206691601641071' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5597206691601641071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5597206691601641071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/03/change-in-yard.html' title='A Change In The Yard'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TXWP1N32qLI/AAAAAAAAAaA/cuTglHkANwE/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2228725045989217202</id><published>2011-03-03T21:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-03T21:20:24.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tree is down</title><content type='html'>The tree came down last weekend.  I can now keep my front shutters open!  I don't think ill be getting a tree next year.  Maybe a tiny one would be doable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in it's place is a treadmill that my grandma gave me.  I had been thinking about buying one so I was so excited when she offered to give me her treadmill.&lt;br /&gt;The family brought it over this weekend.  I've tried the treadmill twice now.  It works for a whole thirty seconds and then the belt slows way down and then stops... &lt;br /&gt;I don't think I have the heart to tell grandma she gave me a broken treadmill.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-2228725045989217202?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2228725045989217202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2228725045989217202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2228725045989217202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2228725045989217202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/03/tree-is-down.html' title='Tree is down'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4532633087712825688</id><published>2011-03-02T21:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T21:11:15.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where are all the days going?</title><content type='html'>I've really been neglecting my blog.  It's already March and I have not blogged once this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I think I might have met a guy.  I'm really excited.  It's been awhile since I've been excited by any guys.  I don't want to say too much because it's still so early.  But, hopefully there will be future updates.  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my boys broke my heart today.  His mom died when he was younger.  He will talk to me about his mom, things she would buy, do, say, one time we were on a field trip he saw an angel and told me that was what his mom looked like.  Today he finished his center and told me he wrote about his mom (something he decided to write about himself).  He was his normal self after center.  Fast foward mins and my class was outside lined up for lunch.  I had to go back in the room to see why he wasn't out there.  He was in the corner balling his eyes out.  When I asked him what was wrong he said, "I miss my mom".  It was hard to hold back the tears.  I told him to give me a big hug and asked him if he wanted to hold my hand to lunch.  We held hands and walked to lunch talking about his mom and how it's okay to feel sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No child should lose a parent and no parent should lose a child.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4532633087712825688?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4532633087712825688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4532633087712825688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4532633087712825688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4532633087712825688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/03/where-are-all-days-going.html' title='Where are all the days going?'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-240279343480889758</id><published>2011-02-07T23:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-03T21:13:06.265-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paw Heat</title><content type='html'>I've heard you should not let your dogs sleep in bed.  What the heck it sure beats sleeping alone.  And the best part is in the winter when my great dane sleeps with his paws against my back - they radiate heat and I've got my own little heat pad...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are busy at school.  I started tutoring ELL kids for 2 hours after school.  I need the extra money buying a house made me broke.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still seem to be celebrating Christmas.  I need to get the tree down before all the needles fall on the floor (best part about getting a live tree is that they don't dry out as fast).  I've been keeping my front shutters closed so the neighbors don't see my Christmas spirt.  Kinda of pathetic.  I guess it could be worse, it could be March.  Here's to getting it down before March.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-240279343480889758?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/240279343480889758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=240279343480889758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/240279343480889758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/240279343480889758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2011/02/paw-heat.html' title='Paw Heat'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-3310904113005073023</id><published>2010-12-05T11:17:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-05T11:26:30.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Spirit</title><content type='html'>It's time to start getting into the Christmas spirit. My dad got permits to cut Christmas trees down this year. My parents and my sister's boyfriend went up north and cut the trees down yesterday. I think they would have liked to have gone the week before but they were helping me get the rental ready to go (mom even spent 2 nights over here - she was amazing). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today my Christmas tree comes. Hopefully mom can find my box of Christmas decorations or else it's going to be a pretty empty looking tree. I do have a few boxes of balls that I bought after the holiday last year. But, everything else stayed at her house with the move. And dad is a hoarder in his parts of the house (garage and office). Mom won't let him put things anywhere else. She's going to attempt to look in the garage today. I hope she is able to find it. A lot of it's ornaments that I got as a child. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad told me he got me a stand at HomeDeopt yesterday. He said one cost about $6 and would only last 1 season and the other one was $50 and would last me a long time. Apparently now I owe my dad $50. (&lt;em&gt;He knows how poor I am with all the house stuff. I hope he realizes he is probably not getting it until after xmas&lt;/em&gt;). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to go and buy a tape measure. Mom and dad are going to stop and get me some xmas lights for the outside of the house. I cannot wait! I've never had my own before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of today my house should have some Christmas spirit. The tree will be here and outside lights are being put up. I cannot wait to see how it all turns out. I am so lucky that my parents help me so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-3310904113005073023?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/3310904113005073023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=3310904113005073023' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3310904113005073023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3310904113005073023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-spirit.html' title='Christmas Spirit'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-678394119852655537</id><published>2010-11-14T13:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T13:01:10.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It has been a journey</title><content type='html'>I finally have my house!  It became official on Friday.  It's the same house I tried to buy back in July.  It went from private sale to estate sale to short sale to a forclosure.  It went back on the market as a forclosure in September.  Since a lot of things had gotten taken care of the first time (apprisal, inspection, etc.).  I had hoped to move in before the 10/27 (close of escrow). 10/27 came and went and their were issues all around (things with the recorder, things not turned on, seller issues, and the lender I was using the first time around went out of buisness). &lt;br /&gt;I gave my 30 day notice for my rental but was not really sure if the house was going to happen. Thankfully FannieMae gave several extensions.  And buying the house (upgrades and in great condition) as a forclosure saved me almost 20k!  :-)&lt;br /&gt;There were a few times I was mad that my agent hadn't noticed that it was a preforclosure.  I saw something about it on the mls website under the tax links but didn't really know what it meant or thought to ask.  But, if things hadn't of happened how they did I probably would not have gotten the house.&lt;br /&gt;I was hoping to have 5 weeks to move and now I have 2 1/2.  Now it's time for the fun to begin.&lt;br /&gt;Every time I go over to my new house I like it more and more.  It still doesn't seem like it's mine.  &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/3109524412973347219-678394119852655537?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/678394119852655537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=678394119852655537' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/678394119852655537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/678394119852655537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/11/it-has-been-journey.html' title='It has been a journey'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2311147573837592187</id><published>2010-10-02T15:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-02T15:14:07.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, I'm crazy!</title><content type='html'>But, I'd like to explain my reasonings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having an actual birthday party for my dog this year ( family is coming over to my house and bring presents).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dog (great dane) is turning 7.  And the average life exp. for danes is 7 1/2 years.  So just in case it's his last birthday, I though I needed to do a little party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I know it sounds totally nuts.  I'm not getting him a cake.  Well maybe I'll get something special for the dogs to eat.  The main reason is that my dog LOVES to open presents.  He gets excited when he sees a pile of presents.  It actually is entertaining to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I know this sounds crazy but in a few weeks their will be a dog party at my house.  ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-2311147573837592187?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2311147573837592187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2311147573837592187' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2311147573837592187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2311147573837592187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/10/yes-i-crazy.html' title='Yes, I&amp;#39;m crazy!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2541592879352814749</id><published>2010-09-29T18:00:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T18:07:27.564-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not complaining!</title><content type='html'>Really, I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;How in the world is it almost fall break? Less than 2-weeks until break begins. 7 school days (not that I'm counting). I still feel like school just started. Or maybe that's my clutch for not having things done that I wanted to have done. The time consuming stuff in the classroom - that most people have no clue takes up a lot of teachers time(organize centers, figure out where things got put from having to move classrooms, move some shelves around - to list a small fraction of these things). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know is I cannot believe that the break starts at the end of next week. For break I wish I was being a bum. Staying up to a ridiculous hour. Sleeping in and doing whatever lazy unproductive thing I felt like doing. Instead I'm driving with my mom and sister to Texas. She had a stroke a few months back. So, where going to help with things around the house and then my mom wants to bring back some of her stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after break. I think I'll have some very exciting news to share!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-2541592879352814749?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2541592879352814749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2541592879352814749' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2541592879352814749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2541592879352814749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/09/im-not-complaining.html' title='I&apos;m not complaining!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4810677793636588591</id><published>2010-09-14T19:15:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T19:22:07.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just take my money now....</title><content type='html'>So, I forgot to return some library books that I checked out awhile back ago. I finally returned them over the summer. I hadn't made it over to the library district to pay my fine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I got a letter in the mail from a collection agency. And I totally freaked. Drove the 30 minutes to the library and paid my $43 fine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lady looked shocked that it was so high (I&lt;em&gt; didn't tell her that I didn't learn my lesson the last time I checked out books and the fine was almost double&lt;/em&gt;). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone should just revoke my library card now. Please? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny (&lt;em&gt;ironic is probably a more appropriate word&lt;/em&gt;) thing is I use to get so annoyed with an ex boyfriend who would always be checking things out from the library and then having $20 and $30 fines. I always thought it was ridiculous and how could he let it happen. And now I'm doing the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, I have learned my lesson!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4810677793636588591?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4810677793636588591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4810677793636588591' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4810677793636588591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4810677793636588591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/09/just-take-my-money-now.html' title='Just take my money now....'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-472979207014063093</id><published>2010-09-14T18:52:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T19:02:19.979-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Schools Out For Summer....</title><content type='html'>oops, I'm a little bit early for that mantra. A few more months, right?  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This years class is a lot more challenging. I have a lot of behavior issues. I also, have a student who is lower than any other student I have had before. &lt;br /&gt;My last years class was so much easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like with everything there are positive and negative things. While my class is challenging I have a lot of characters who have big personality. I also have some  funny kids. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And over all this group is higher and it's amazing to see what they are able to handle. This years "challenging" class can handle 10 minutes of free time on Fridays. Last years "easy" class could not handle free time. This years group is a lot more organized and responsible. As a teacher, I love that my kids aren't losing their packets and a lot of them are doing their homework. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need a little bit extra sleep each week to keep up with this group -or- maybe I'm just getting old!!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It can't be the age it must be the group!  lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-472979207014063093?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/472979207014063093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=472979207014063093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/472979207014063093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/472979207014063093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/09/schools-out-for-summer.html' title='Schools Out For Summer....'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4019941728013694164</id><published>2010-09-02T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T21:51:23.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This to shall pass</title><content type='html'>So I try to usually be a positive person and tend to see the good in things or find a positive spin.  This semester is not so smooth sailing.  I have a difficult class this year.  They are getting better.  It's just a lot of work to get the behavior under control.  I'm taking college classes and after reading the syllabus for each class I have determined that these teachers are homework crazy.  I just love the double standard that they have for education classes in college. They preach have a variety of different activies to accodomodate student's stregthens and not to send home lots of homework.  That activites should be meaningful and not just busy work.... nice double standard grad professors!  (okay, some do not do this but some are horrible).  Okay, I'm done whining now.... Hopefully!&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/3109524412973347219-4019941728013694164?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4019941728013694164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4019941728013694164' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4019941728013694164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4019941728013694164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/09/this-to-shall-pass.html' title='This to shall pass'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-6310996685198195104</id><published>2010-08-14T11:04:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-14T11:11:03.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Houses and School</title><content type='html'>I am still in my rental with no place to call my own.  The house I was buying turned out to be a huge mess.  The house appraised for less than it was worth.  Which was good for me.  But, a week after I learned that the person who owned the house is deceased and an estate attorney is taking care of things.  The amount owed on the house was slighly more than what it appraised at so they changing it into a short sale.  I'm thinking about walking away.  I'll be out some money but I'll get my earnest money back.  There is a house that I really like in Casa Grande.  So I might go look at it. I didn't want to look at any short sales from the beg. so it's diasppointing that it turned into a short sale.  However, maybe Maricopa is not where I want to be. The utilities are so much more compared to other cities.  Guess time will tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My students started on Monday.  I have a wild class.  I have a crazy boy (he should be in a self contained classroom but we don't have those at my school - so he has an aide sitting with him).  It's been very tiring and at times a little frusterating.  Becuase they just do not listen.  Last years class was not like this.  Of course we were told that this years class was very wild.  Now I guess I see what they were talking about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-6310996685198195104?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/6310996685198195104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=6310996685198195104' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/6310996685198195104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/6310996685198195104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/08/houses-and-school.html' title='Houses and School'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4215210367524020782</id><published>2010-07-28T00:28:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T00:33:14.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Trip</title><content type='html'>We we're about an hour and half away from home on our trip. We listen to my sisters mix on her ipod. It was a wide variety of songs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister was sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The song It's Raining Men was playing. As the song was going on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;It's raining men......Hallelujah&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister wakes up and says, "What did you just say?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4215210367524020782?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4215210367524020782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4215210367524020782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4215210367524020782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4215210367524020782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/07/road-trip.html' title='Road Trip'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-3783026503865256771</id><published>2010-07-28T00:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T00:28:41.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>26 hours and 5 states</title><content type='html'>I drove from Seattle to Phoenix with my sister on Monday. We did it in 26 hours. We even stopped in Boise and had a fun lunch with Ronelle. It did not feel like we were in the car for that long. Originally we were going to try to make it to Vegas and stay the night. But, when the trip started to not seem "that long" we tried to make it all the way to Phoenix and we did. It was fun surprising my family. My sister will be visiting for 2-weeks. It will be nice to spend some extra time with her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-3783026503865256771?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/3783026503865256771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=3783026503865256771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3783026503865256771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3783026503865256771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/07/26-hours-and-5-states.html' title='26 hours and 5 states'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4019231476957058193</id><published>2010-07-24T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-24T15:04:45.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mini trip</title><content type='html'>The weather in Seattle is amazing!   Why do I suffer every summer when not everyone in the country is?  When I have a significant partner I'd like to move sonewhere more me.  I can't imagine moving or living somewhere by myself.  I know I'd make new friends and get to know people.  &lt;br /&gt;It's been nice spending time with my sister.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4019231476957058193?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4019231476957058193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4019231476957058193' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4019231476957058193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4019231476957058193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/07/mini-trip.html' title='Mini trip'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-7118853857769012142</id><published>2010-07-20T18:08:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T18:18:34.234-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom rocks</title><content type='html'>I still don't want to do my homework. So, I will blog again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes my mom is super awesome and does super awesome things. Last week I started getting stuff for the school year for my class crayons, folders, notebooks, loose leaf paper, pencils, glue, etc. I was about half done with what I needed and my mom calls me and she's at the store with my sister. She wants to know what kind of stuff I needed and how many pencil boxes I want. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year I didn't buy enough pencil boxes. They are super cheap at Walmart when they have the back to school sales. Well, last year I had enough to start plus 2 extra which I thought would be enough. I ended up getting 5 boys during the school year. And of course Walmart only had pink. Luckily one of the boys didn't care that it was pink I think he was just grateful to have one. Bless his little heart. This time I got blue pencil boxes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to the pencil boxes, notebooks, stuff for treasure box. She pretty much got a ton of stuff. It's so nice to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I called to ask her how much I owed her she told me it was her contribution to my classroom this year. That made my day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-7118853857769012142?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/7118853857769012142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=7118853857769012142' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7118853857769012142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7118853857769012142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/07/mom-rocks.html' title='Mom rocks'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4096059937606643923</id><published>2010-07-20T17:59:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T18:08:26.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More house talk</title><content type='html'>I should be doing my homework for my class since I'm going out of town tomorrow. But, I am a procrastinator and in true form I am finding "other things" to do first, like blog. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called my realtor today. I am trying not to think (much) about the house. He found out a little bit of information from the other realtor and why things were kind of weird with this sale. Turns out I'm not dealing with a seller but an attorney whose trying to get the estate in order. Kind of weird to be buying the house from a deceased person. I hope she lived a long and happy life. I guess that is the bad news. The good news is that (although not official) I should be getting my house now for 10k less. That makes me excited and not as nervous about the whole thing. Now hopefully everything goes thought with my financing. I was suppose to close on the 29th and he said that a few extra days will probably be needed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My lease ends the end of August and if I'm moving I have to give a 30-day notice to the leasing company next week. I could go month to month but that will cost me 10% more. Guess I won't worry about it until the end of next week. I guess there are a few options.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4096059937606643923?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4096059937606643923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4096059937606643923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4096059937606643923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4096059937606643923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/07/more-house-talk.html' title='More house talk'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-3374308243945999395</id><published>2010-07-19T12:13:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T12:31:13.958-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Probelm?</title><content type='html'>"There are no probelms, only solutions."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know more house talk. But, I feel silly putting this on facebook. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I decided to make an offer on the house my realtor said he wasn't sure where the appraisal would come in at. He thought the seller was asking too much but the appraisal would sorta dictate the sale price. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Appraisal came back today and it is $10,000 lower. Which is good and bad. Good being that I might get the house for less. Bad that I might be starting all over again because I do want the closing assist included in a house that I buy. Right now I don't know what the seller is going to do. And I don't really know what I'm going to do. I do now have the legal opportunity to get out of the contract unless she accepts the conditions the same just at the lesser price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I will be living in Maricopa for a few years due to my job. It does make me nervous to buy a house here. And I don't really want to live in Casa Grande because it's so farther from home. I kind of justified the buying of a house is that with prices so low here I could probably maintain the house and not live in it should I get another job down the road. I hate renting though. Especially when it costs more to rent a house than it does to buy and that's including all the taxes, hoa, etc. Of course I do live in a house that is much bigger than I need. I could find a rental that is a more appropriate size and pay $150 less per month. Living in this house has taught me that bigger is now always better. I thought I needed a 3 bedroom/2bath with at least 2000 sq. feet (and yes, I live alone). Kind of funny to think that was my mindset less than a year ago.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-3374308243945999395?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/3374308243945999395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=3374308243945999395' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3374308243945999395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3374308243945999395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/07/probelm.html' title='Probelm?'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2327992590952117824</id><published>2010-07-16T20:28:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-16T20:37:01.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving on a Jet plane.  Don't know when i'll be back again...</title><content type='html'>So excited. I booked an airline ticket online and on Wednesday I'm leaving for a couple of days to go visit my sister and her hubby. I haven't seen them since Thanksgiving. And what's also exciting is they live right outside of Seattle. Which means that I'll be able to go outside for more than 5 minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am kind of getting excited for school to start. Which is kinda weird! I am trying not to think about it because soon I will be missing these summer days and counting down for a break. I already got all of the school supplies thanks to Walmart and Targets awesome back to school sales. I had to stock up. Because it sucks needing something during the school year and realizing how much more your paying for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went and got my hair done tonight. My last visit I went a shade darker (which is still pretty light). I am still loving it. Sometimes I think about switching back to brown from blonde. I can't do it yet. Maybe someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, enough rambling for one night. Plus I am at my parents house and need to go back over to my place to do a homework assignment I forgot to do last night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-2327992590952117824?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2327992590952117824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2327992590952117824' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2327992590952117824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2327992590952117824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/07/leaving-on-jet-plane-dont-know-when-ill.html' title='Leaving on a Jet plane.  Don&apos;t know when i&apos;ll be back again...'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-880640416654165010</id><published>2010-07-15T01:32:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T01:49:56.088-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Flip Flops</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I heart Old Navy Flip Flops! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are cheap and they have lots of colors to be matched to my clothes. And did I mention they are super cheap? Which is a good thing because every since I moved my dog will chew up flips flops left out when I'm not home.  Sometimes I forget about this little problem. Actually I have forgotten way to many times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, for very cheap, I have added some extra colors to my flip flop collection. But, I must remember...to put them up when I take them off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, now it's time to be semi mean. Why? Because, unfortunately, talking about flip flops reminded me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lady where I work loves to wear flip flops and open toe shoes. Only she has the most nasty feet in the world. They are super cracked all over the heals (they are probably the worst I've seen to date) and she can't keep dirt off of them. Pretty much they are gross. For some reason she doesn't care and shows them off to people every day. I wonder if her husband ever puts them in his mouth during foreplay. Sorry for putting nasty thoughts into your head. Just be glad I didn't take any pictures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-880640416654165010?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/880640416654165010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=880640416654165010' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/880640416654165010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/880640416654165010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/07/flip-flops.html' title='Flip Flops'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-7239882052080377836</id><published>2010-07-13T12:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T12:49:55.641-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspection</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, was the home inspection.  I am slighly annoyed because the home owner still didn't have the gas turned on.  She's outta town and having her lawyer set all this stuff up.  If I had known this I would have postponed it longer.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing major is wrong with the house. A few minor things need to be repaired.  There are a few recommadations.  One of which is the carpet needs to be restretched in the master.&lt;br /&gt;I think I am going to request all repairs be fixed and carpet restretched in master.  In addition to something about the gas for the heater and fernace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am paying this ladies asking price so it only seems fair.  That the house be in as best condition as it can.  Comparables in the neigborhood are going for 20k less but this house has a ton of upgrades and well worth the extra money.  I hope. Pam am I on the right track?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-7239882052080377836?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/7239882052080377836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=7239882052080377836' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7239882052080377836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7239882052080377836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/07/inspection.html' title='Inspection'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-1514724649411834351</id><published>2010-07-09T11:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T11:27:56.484-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't wait to get outta this heat</title><content type='html'>I'm heading up north today with my sister.  We're meeting up with some friends to do some camping. According to the weather on my phone there is rain up there.  I don't even care because the highs are in the low 80's.  Which is super awesome when the high today is going to be round 109.&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully it's not to rainy else it will be a very dirty trip.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-1514724649411834351?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1514724649411834351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=1514724649411834351' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1514724649411834351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1514724649411834351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/07/can-wait-to-get-outta-this-heat.html' title='Can&amp;#39;t wait to get outta this heat'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2776534176706495832</id><published>2010-07-06T23:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T23:02:11.432-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I like big bugs and I cannot lie</title><content type='html'>Well, there really gross.  BUT, tonight I found the biggest bug I've seen.  I gotta flashlight and quarter to take a picture of it.  The bug is tilted down and it's end is really far down in the ground.  Ready to see big grossness?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5491040640800732322'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TDQYXropNKI/AAAAAAAAAZM/FILqu0t_p9M/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so glad that he didn't fly or even move when I had to get close.  That would have been so nasty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-2776534176706495832?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2776534176706495832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2776534176706495832' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2776534176706495832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2776534176706495832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-like-big-bugs-and-i-cannot-lie.html' title='I like big bugs and I cannot lie'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TDQYXropNKI/AAAAAAAAAZM/FILqu0t_p9M/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-3984120606354190998</id><published>2010-07-05T18:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T18:28:34.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Need to vent about "nothing"</title><content type='html'>This blog is going to be very vauge and I'll appoligize now for the lack of details.  I'm not aloud to talk about it but I need to vent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So these things happen.  You wish they wouldn't happen but they do.  You hear about it but I don't tie much emotion or thought into it.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;I know the person who did it.  Not on a friend level but def. someone who we know who each are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have feelings I didn't expect to have.  I am shocked, angry, mad, embarrased... to name a few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out about this a few days ago from a friend of mine who called.  I can't stop thinking about it.  I wish I didn't know or more so that it didn't happen.  I feel so effected even though it has nothing to do with me.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;I really want to tell a few people.  But since I can't really talk about it and know they'll talk about it the people that are close to them (cause how could you not).  But I'm also embarrased for them to know.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;In time maybe I'll be allowed or more open to talk about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now it just suprises me how something that has nothing to do with me has rattled me to the core.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-3984120606354190998?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/3984120606354190998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=3984120606354190998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3984120606354190998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3984120606354190998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/07/need-to-vent-about.html' title='Need to vent about &amp;quot;nothing&amp;quot;'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2888120927135406313</id><published>2010-07-05T18:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T18:14:37.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cool summer breeze</title><content type='html'>For the 4th I went up north to the cabin for the weekend.  It was so nice getting outta this 100• weather.  It amazes me that 2 hour away the air is so much cooler.  7am it was 49• outside.  It would have been pushing 100 back home.&lt;br /&gt;Next weekend I get to get out of the heat once more.  Going back up north to go camping with some friends.&lt;br /&gt;Summer break is pretty awesome.  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-2888120927135406313?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2888120927135406313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2888120927135406313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2888120927135406313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2888120927135406313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/07/cool-summer-breeze.html' title='Cool summer breeze'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-1879424051031624316</id><published>2010-07-01T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T19:39:09.019-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eclipse</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I went and saw Eclipse. Best one yet. My friend and I were talking before hand about team Jacob vs. team Edward.  And we both concluded...&lt;br /&gt;in the movies: team Jacob&lt;br /&gt;in the books: team Edward&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/3109524412973347219-1879424051031624316?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1879424051031624316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=1879424051031624316' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1879424051031624316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1879424051031624316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/07/eclipse.html' title='Eclipse'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4695407435004990829</id><published>2010-06-30T20:44:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T21:09:11.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Totally freaking out</title><content type='html'>No really, I am. I am trying not to think about the house stuff. Because when I do I start to feel major anxiety. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I accepted the counter offer on the house. Tomorrow I write a check for the escrow and next Tuesday is the home inspection. I don't know if it's safe to say I own a house until Keys are in hand. I'm trying to only think about it in small doses. Too much and my stomach starts to turn in knots. Am I really doing this. It also scares me that I'm actually tied down somewhere. Did I mention that I'm totally freaking out about this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4695407435004990829?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4695407435004990829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4695407435004990829' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4695407435004990829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4695407435004990829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/06/totally-freaking-out.html' title='Totally freaking out'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-8826144592698648884</id><published>2010-06-26T15:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T15:58:29.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Trip</title><content type='html'>I should hear back on the house within the next 24 hours.  Other than that nothing much is going on.&lt;br /&gt;My dear friend Michelle, who lives in Portland, invited me come visit her.  &lt;br /&gt;My sister got married 9 months ago and moved up to Seattle.&lt;br /&gt;I am thinking since I don't have anything going on that perhaps instead of flying to visit them that maybe a road trip is in order.  I love to drive and it would be cool to explore places.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, would that be weird doing it alone?&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/3109524412973347219-8826144592698648884?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/8826144592698648884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=8826144592698648884' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/8826144592698648884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/8826144592698648884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/06/road-trip.html' title='Road Trip'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-270037678165207947</id><published>2010-06-21T21:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T21:23:53.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm obsessed</title><content type='html'>This morning I found out that the house I put an offer on just got an accepted offer.  Wasn't meant to be.  Instead of being bummed this girl went and view the new listings that I got sent over the weekend.  I asked to go see one and an hour later I was looking at it. And I ended up putting an offer on it.  It's been on the market for 2 days, so hopefully the status doesn't change before they open my offer... Let the wait begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;House #2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5485448968005098994'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TCA6xfN6HfI/AAAAAAAAAZA/N54DNwbiWfE/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5485449007326732306'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TCA6zxs6oBI/AAAAAAAAAZE/PteCaF3ymBw/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5485449039369525538'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TCA61pEg2SI/AAAAAAAAAZI/CIBf_keUccE/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&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/3109524412973347219-270037678165207947?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/270037678165207947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=270037678165207947' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/270037678165207947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/270037678165207947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-obsessed.html' title='I&amp;#39;m obsessed'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/TCA6xfN6HfI/AAAAAAAAAZA/N54DNwbiWfE/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-1869242807954570735</id><published>2010-06-20T17:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T17:09:25.282-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting Game</title><content type='html'>Yesterday my real estate agent put in an offer on a house.  Now it's time to wait.  The hard part will be trying not to obsess about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-1869242807954570735?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1869242807954570735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=1869242807954570735' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1869242807954570735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1869242807954570735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/06/waiting-game.html' title='Waiting Game'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-5357448458216839986</id><published>2010-06-13T23:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T23:43:38.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A lot has been happening</title><content type='html'>Probably the most exciting is that I still have my job and I'll still be in 1st grade.  My friend that was next door was asked to go up to 2nd.  I also have to change classrooms and I'll no longer have a door that leads to another classroom.&lt;br /&gt;Another thing is that I that I got preapproved for a home loan and have started looking at houses.  I think I'll stay out here in the middle of know where.  Not because I love it.  But it's close to my school.  I'm kind of scared to buy but it's actually a lot cheaper to buy than to rent.  Even with new fees (hoa and property tax).  I'll save a few hundred bucks a month. Will see though.  Because maybe I should wait one more year until I  know I'll be permanate at the school.&lt;br /&gt;That's a quick recap.  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-5357448458216839986?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5357448458216839986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=5357448458216839986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5357448458216839986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5357448458216839986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/06/lot-has-been-happening.html' title='A lot has been happening'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-8690566743559978171</id><published>2010-04-28T12:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T12:56:20.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Errr</title><content type='html'>So next year I don't know if I'll have a job.  Until I find out in a few weeks it makes the money situation kinda weird.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a comforter on sale that I want to buy at Kohls.  This weekend I can get an extra 20% off - so great price.  I love it.  If I have a job I want it but if I don't have a job it's not as important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking of buying the set this weekend and in a few weeks when I know about my job either make my bed beautiful or return it.  Is that crazy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't this cute?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5465279625039909218'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S9iS3NivEWI/AAAAAAAAAY8/81D0tmh3Fl4/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&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/3109524412973347219-8690566743559978171?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/8690566743559978171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=8690566743559978171' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/8690566743559978171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/8690566743559978171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/04/errr.html' title='Errr'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S9iS3NivEWI/AAAAAAAAAY8/81D0tmh3Fl4/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-5221206242012623758</id><published>2010-04-21T17:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T17:26:00.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No HOA letter</title><content type='html'>Well my front yard is now nice and tidy (we won't talk about my back yard).  The HOA won't be able to send me any letterswhilewhile.  It looks so much better.  Wish it could stay like this.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5462751337449657250'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S8-XZgT6E6I/AAAAAAAAAYs/UTtkKBzW0cI/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For fun.  Here is a picture of my back yard.  Shhh don't tell the HOA!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5462751364321084450'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S8-XbEajhCI/AAAAAAAAAYw/d9oiKKw_kHo/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5462751393075610658'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S8-XcviKxCI/AAAAAAAAAY0/suJCCN0A1Ak/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it puuurrtty?  &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/3109524412973347219-5221206242012623758?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5221206242012623758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=5221206242012623758' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5221206242012623758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5221206242012623758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/04/no-hoa-letter.html' title='No HOA letter'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S8-XZgT6E6I/AAAAAAAAAYs/UTtkKBzW0cI/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-1428610675638019694</id><published>2010-04-20T22:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T22:41:32.722-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Recycling Bin</title><content type='html'>Today when I got home from work I found my recycling bin (bright pink) in an unusually spot.  The lid was in the living room and the can was by the table?  Are the dogs rearranging things or do they not believe in recycling?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5462461444684717954'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S86PvhmzH4I/AAAAAAAAAYo/ucdyuqf1PgE/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-1428610675638019694?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1428610675638019694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=1428610675638019694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1428610675638019694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1428610675638019694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/04/recycling.html' title='Recycling Bin'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S86PvhmzH4I/AAAAAAAAAYo/ucdyuqf1PgE/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-7388633919798093426</id><published>2010-04-19T21:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T21:37:25.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day off</title><content type='html'>I had 1 more vacation day to take off or I'd lose it next month.    Today the fidge guy came and fixed the freezer.  It sucked throwing out everything I had in my freezer.  I went to the store and bought more freezer stuff.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had another guy come out today to give me a quote for yard work.  He wanted to come tomorrow morning to do it.  When I said I wasn't going to be here.  He said that was fine to just leave a check under the mat.  This makes me paranoid.  Hopefully he's trust worthy.  Because my yard is in desperate need of work.  Here r some before pics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5462074101523467394'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S80vdL4qzII/AAAAAAAAAYc/spLabZU5Ctk/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that bad from the other side of the street.  But let's get a better look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5462074126844509858'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S80veqNrPqI/AAAAAAAAAYg/wfR7oifX04E/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can u tell I don't own an edger. And the bushes are in desperate need of being pruned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5462074155588658354'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S80vgVS0JLI/AAAAAAAAAYk/pfWf7e7isLA/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See the tops r brown and dead. Not sure how that happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait to see how it looks tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-7388633919798093426?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/7388633919798093426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=7388633919798093426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7388633919798093426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7388633919798093426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-off.html' title='Day off'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S80vdL4qzII/AAAAAAAAAYc/spLabZU5Ctk/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-1676099135639257606</id><published>2010-04-18T20:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T20:45:55.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bummed</title><content type='html'>I ended up not replying back to the ex on Facebook.  I really haven't thought too much about him since.  Funny thing is a different guy I use to date sent me a message on FB. weird!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week I got bad news at my school.  Next year they will lose 300,000 ish in their budget.  If the state penny tax increase does not pass my school will lose a little more than a half million dollars.  12 of us (me included) got notices that we will do not have a job next year.  If the tax passes they will be able to hire 8 of us back.  Not knowing sucks. I really like my school.  I'd almost thought about seeing if I could stay and work or para pay (but that's like 7 bucks an hour).  :-/  &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/3109524412973347219-1676099135639257606?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1676099135639257606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=1676099135639257606' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1676099135639257606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1676099135639257606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-ended-up-not-replying-back-to-ex-on.html' title='Bummed'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-3406511407747157125</id><published>2010-04-09T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T19:19:06.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Get out of my head!</title><content type='html'>Latley I have been thinking about my ex latley.  I don't know why.  People break up when things are not going as they should.  We broke up 3 years ago.  And I have had a few relationships since then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we broke up I was not able to talk to him and had a lot of pent up anger.  I could not talk to gin without being grumpy or mean.  As time went on I no longer have any anger and can talk normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm friends with him on Facebook and he posted some cute pics of himself.  Why? Why? Why can't I stop thinking about him? I even sent him a message and he replied with a long message about what's going on in his life and what he's got going on.  He lives in another state and I guess he has a conference here at the end of the year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to gather up some strength to stop thinking about him.  And fast because I'm wanting to text him and suggest that we should see each other so he can see my (his old) dog.  :-/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does this mean I didn't get over him because I thought I did years ago?  But if I haven't how do I and perhaps this is why I always sabotage relationships?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm confused...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-3406511407747157125?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/3406511407747157125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=3406511407747157125' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3406511407747157125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3406511407747157125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/04/latley-i-have-been-thinking-about-my-ex.html' title='Get out of my head!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-7548651795492945113</id><published>2010-04-09T18:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T18:47:00.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Melted Frozen Goods</title><content type='html'>I got home the other day and everything in the freezer was melting.  I had to throw out so much food, such a waste.  The repairman came out today.  My defroster is not working.  To make it work I have to unplug the fridge for 6-8 hours so all the ice can melt.  And I learned that the fridge is cooled by the freezer.  I have to take all the stuff out of the fridge and put it in a cooler with ice, it's a pain.  I did this once the other day and will have to do it in a few days to get me through to when they come back out.  Doesn't the refrigerator know I have better things to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-7548651795492945113?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/7548651795492945113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=7548651795492945113' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7548651795492945113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7548651795492945113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/04/melted-frozen-goods.html' title='Melted Frozen Goods'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-7190787135949564216</id><published>2010-03-29T20:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T20:10:22.529-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shoes</title><content type='html'>Today, when the students went home I got the biggest and longest hugs from one of my boys.  I know it was a big thank you from him. &lt;br /&gt;He was in great new of shoes.  When he played ball at recess his shoes were always falling off and he had very holy socks.  The mom just got her kids backs few months ago and I have heard she's having a hard time. Over the weekend my mom went to get some new shoes.  I wasn't planning on getting name brand because I didn't want to spend more than 20 bucks.  Mom got an awesome deal some cool looking DC shoes for 10 bucks!&lt;br /&gt;It was nice to do something for someone else.  Plus I buy myself things I truly do not need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-7190787135949564216?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/7190787135949564216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=7190787135949564216' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7190787135949564216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7190787135949564216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/03/shoes.html' title='Shoes'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-1880181641102288601</id><published>2010-03-23T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T22:59:04.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop on Red?</title><content type='html'>I grew up in a big city right by Phoenix.  It's all I knew and it seemed normal.  I teach in a rural area.  The town the school is in does not even have a traffic light...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-1880181641102288601?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1880181641102288601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=1880181641102288601' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1880181641102288601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1880181641102288601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/03/stop-on-red.html' title='Stop on Red?'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-1446838372951705641</id><published>2010-03-08T23:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T23:21:32.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Book</title><content type='html'>I bought a new book that caught my eye the other day Flat Belly Diet.  It says not a single crunch is required.  I'll have to see about that.  Actually crunchies are not that bad. Except when ur trainer makes u do 400.&lt;br /&gt;Not ready for a diet but I'm also not ready to buy different size clothes so something has gotta give and soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-1446838372951705641?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1446838372951705641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=1446838372951705641' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1446838372951705641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1446838372951705641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/03/new-book.html' title='New Book'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-3013852732171178037</id><published>2010-02-14T02:41:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T02:43:50.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Middle Ground</title><content type='html'>Before I became a teacher I didn't like my job and loved my social life.&lt;br /&gt;Now that I'm a teacher I love my job and have a tiny social life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is the happy middle?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-3013852732171178037?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/3013852732171178037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=3013852732171178037' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3013852732171178037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3013852732171178037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/02/middle-ground.html' title='Middle Ground'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2598232262557881336</id><published>2010-02-14T02:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T02:40:37.867-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Valentine's Day!</title><content type='html'>Happy Valentine's Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never had a mouth dropping Valentine's Day. In years past if I got flowers from a boy then it ranked to be a good day. One day I'd liked to be swept off my feet. Something out of the movies. I know, I know, it's Hollywood. BUT, it would still be very incredible to just have someone amazing once go all out on that special day. Although maybe all it takes is having the right man in your life to make the day extra special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I didn't have any romantic Valentine's this year. Mine was very endearing. I had 19 very sweet 6 and 7 year olds who gave me so many gifts - boxes of chocolates, a single cake, stuffed animal, cards and hugs galore. They made it a very special day. One of the fringe benefits of being a teacher.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-2598232262557881336?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2598232262557881336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2598232262557881336' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2598232262557881336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2598232262557881336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/02/happy-valentines-day.html' title='Happy Valentine&apos;s Day!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2610545698256052169</id><published>2010-02-02T21:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T21:57:46.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need a...</title><content type='html'>Tonight I was very tempted (still am) to post an add for a roommate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rent upstairs in house for free rent and all utilites included for keeping the house clean, general matience, landscaping, taking care of the dogs while I'm at work, and a few cooked meals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With things being as busy ss they r it would help make life pretty close to perfect!  Come home and everything is done so I don't have to do a thing.  &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/3109524412973347219-2610545698256052169?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2610545698256052169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2610545698256052169' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2610545698256052169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2610545698256052169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/02/tonight-it-was-very-tempting-to-post.html' title='I need a...'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4676080378077155696</id><published>2010-01-18T21:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T21:53:15.878-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Special Day</title><content type='html'>Today my sister turned 24! Happy Birthday!!!  She moved up to Seattle when she got married last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her wedding was one of the best weekends of my life. It was an amazing wedding and so much fun.  I still need to blog about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I could not be up there to celebrate her birthday.  I sent her Edible Arrangements.  Here r some pictures she sent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5428309310336368162'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S1U6jq2LfiI/AAAAAAAAAYU/Lx2HRParTX4/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5428309336319117170'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S1U6lLo8x3I/AAAAAAAAAYY/PD58x1Fln9U/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry she sent them that direction and I haven't figured out how to rotate them on my iPhone.  I probably just need to download an app. &lt;br /&gt;But, if u turn your head don't they look yummy?&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/3109524412973347219-4676080378077155696?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4676080378077155696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4676080378077155696' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4676080378077155696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4676080378077155696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/01/special-day.html' title='Special Day'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S1U6jq2LfiI/AAAAAAAAAYU/Lx2HRParTX4/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2956308723298280602</id><published>2010-01-12T18:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T19:00:43.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to you!</title><content type='html'>Both of my sister's birthdays are coming up.  Less than 2 weeks! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an idea as to what I'm getting Heather.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;My youngest sister Kimberly I am still debating. I need the WOW factor becase she wow'd me with a new iPod last month. &lt;br /&gt;I figured she got me a shirt or something.  I was totaly suprised!  My old iPod was a first generation nano (that tells u how old it was) that an ex gave me. I ran out of room and was in need of a lot more space.  Well baby, I got it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm posting vague ideas of what in thinking... Just in case they read this before their bdays!  ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can u figure it out?  Lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heather:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5426038026222692770'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S00o1iLD6aI/AAAAAAAAAYM/FbTCAk6ASDE/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='186' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kim:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5426038049747961906'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S00o25z7CDI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/B8hCZxmWr6M/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='186' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-2956308723298280602?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2956308723298280602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2956308723298280602' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2956308723298280602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2956308723298280602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-birthday-to-you.html' title='Happy Birthday to you!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/S00o1iLD6aI/AAAAAAAAAYM/FbTCAk6ASDE/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-5044052165715958112</id><published>2010-01-03T21:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T21:18:51.918-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tick Tock</title><content type='html'>New Years was a lot of fun and before I knew it the clock struck midnight.  We had lots of yummy food and played games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot believe that it's a new decade.  Where is time going?  It's scary that being 'middle aged' is not far away.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what great things will happen during this decade of my life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-5044052165715958112?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5044052165715958112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=5044052165715958112' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5044052165715958112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5044052165715958112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2010/01/tick-tock.html' title='Tick Tock'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2403995564269374706</id><published>2009-12-31T12:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T12:34:53.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2009 r</title><content type='html'>This year has been all about change for me.  I think the only thing that has not changed is the size of my bum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New career, new car, new place to live. For one that doesn't like change that is an awful lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister got married this year.  Her wedding was incredible and so much fun.  It was an honnor to be one of her brides maides.  I am looking foward to being an Auntie in a few years.  My sister married a great guy and his family is awesome and lots of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Portland and Seattle to visit my friend and sister.  I love visiting people I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talked to my friend about my school.  She contacted someone who was able to get people in the community to help out the school.  It was so amazing!  I went to the school and 50 families got a $125 food box from Walmart and got things like milk, turkeys, bananas, etc.  They also got a toy and each school aged kid got a shirt, jacket, and socks.  They also are having more jackets sent to the school.  And they presented a check to the school for $3000.  I got a lot of hugs.  News chanel 15 wanted to so a story on it but u didn't get the vm until it was too late.  Now that would have been stressful.  It was amazing to be able to have so many families get a little extra support over the break.  The most amazing part is the people were telling me they would like to make this an annual tradition and make it bigger next year.  All that good karma led me to have the best Xmas.  I still can't believe some of the awesome gifts I got. I wast expecting much of anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My students wrote letters to Santa.  And woe did i learn the true meaning of Xmas. Now I did have a few kids ask for the new toy they wanted.  I wasn't expecting some to only ask for a pair of new shoes. Shoes!  &lt;br /&gt;As a child my mom taught me to help those that need help.  I love that she instilled that quality in me when I was so young. As a child I loved doing the Christmas Tree Angels.&lt;br /&gt;Xmas is not just about getting a child a new toy but necessities as a new pair of shoes or a jacket so they have something to wear on these chilly mornings.  &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Some things that are not totally amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I moved my dog decided he could not be home by himself.  He tore up my stuff.  A lot of flip flops got ruined that first month.  My mom thought of a solution having my parents dog (his bff) come over during the week.  Now everything is just dandy with my dog. I just have to drive their dog home on Fridays and pick him up Sundays. Which adds a lot of miles to my car.  I guess a happy dog is a happier Angela.  Plus my parents dog is goofy and always doing strange things.  Yesterday, he wanted to lay on the couch.  When Deuce did not figure out from being looked at for 5 mins he climbed up on top of Deuce and sat on him for awhile.  He is a big boy to boot (97lbs).  I enjoy his silly antics.  He makes me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I also deveopled alergies.  Nose spray was not scary as I thought it would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am excited to see what happens in 2010.  I think there will not be as much changing.  But you never know!&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/3109524412973347219-2403995564269374706?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2403995564269374706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2403995564269374706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2403995564269374706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2403995564269374706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/12/2009-r.html' title='2009 r'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4313166365554686975</id><published>2009-12-30T19:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T19:57:49.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not sure</title><content type='html'>I love what I do.  The kids are awesome.  I love going to the classroom It doesn't feel like I work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why do I feel like this is not a job I will do the rest of my life? And why do I look at other job fields?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4313166365554686975?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4313166365554686975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4313166365554686975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4313166365554686975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4313166365554686975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/12/not-sure.html' title='Not sure'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2998807995991861348</id><published>2009-12-29T12:34:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T12:40:06.672-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pier One is Out</title><content type='html'>I'll just start this blog off by saying that I am dumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always bought a lot of my house decorations, dishes, and yes even some furniture from Pier One.  With newly chosen colors for my house I have started looking at other places and I can't believe how much cheaper other stores have cute stuff for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new favorite places to buy things so far are Target and Kohls.  I went to Marshalls and they even had some cute super cheap vases. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now decorating my house for a bargain.  I love all the money I'm saving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I did get a huge picture from Pier One for about 80% off.  I'll still shop there but will only look at the clearance section.  There is no reason for me to pay full price.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-2998807995991861348?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2998807995991861348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2998807995991861348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2998807995991861348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2998807995991861348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/12/pier-one-is-out.html' title='Pier One is Out'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-1182119220899942588</id><published>2009-12-23T12:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T14:02:18.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Decorating</title><content type='html'>I have been living in this house for over 3 months.  I have not decorated anything.  A little bit in the kitchen.  Nothing is hung on the walls.  In fact I went through a lot of my decorations and just put them back in a box.  And have no plans on ever pulling them back out.&lt;br /&gt;Truthfully I have been unable to decorate because I don't know where to start color wise.  I want a color that I going to love for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Pier1 and found some inspiration.  Bedroom:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5418539871133821490'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/SzKFTdw46jI/AAAAAAAAAYE/aCG85KdymOo/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for colors I would do black and the burgandy from the letters.  Never a color I thought of but I think it will look great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the kitchen I found chair cushions that I think would match the placemats I recently purchased.  It's a pale blue and brown. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/102529616770031012802/ThisIsMyLifeUnscripted?authkey=Gv1sRgCOOe4IvCnvncZA#5418539912036743698'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/SzKFV2I5-hI/AAAAAAAAAYI/43t1glgZflg/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I could pull the brown and light blue into the living room.  I am thinking of replacing my couch. I am pretty sure it wil be dk. brown.  I just don't know what material I want it to be due to the dog.  :-/&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/3109524412973347219-1182119220899942588?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1182119220899942588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=1182119220899942588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1182119220899942588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1182119220899942588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/12/decorating.html' title='Decorating'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_liJu3teTACQ/SzKFTdw46jI/AAAAAAAAAYE/aCG85KdymOo/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4834199476419384399</id><published>2009-12-23T00:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T00:52:25.088-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Break</title><content type='html'>Its been great being on winter break the last few days.  Yesterday, I went to the doctor and I got meds for alergies.  Very strange to have allergies after so many years without them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going on a date.  I was told that I'm getting a suprise when he picks me up.  I asked him what color it is, 'red and green'.  Guess whose getting flowers... I love flowers!  It's seem like years since I've met a guy that I can talk to on the phone for hours. It's awesome to be excited about someone.  I was starting to think those were just feelings of the past. :D&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/3109524412973347219-4834199476419384399?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4834199476419384399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4834199476419384399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4834199476419384399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4834199476419384399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/12/break.html' title='Break'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-5404676263122149665</id><published>2009-12-15T18:18:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T18:44:31.378-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Spirit</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I have decided that for me...teaching and blogging do not mix.  I cannot seem to blog anymore.  Even though my life is so eventful these days.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Part 1:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;For Thanksgiving I went and visited my sister Heather and my brother-in-law Christopher up in Seattle.  It was so much fun and awesome to spend time with them.  They bought a house so it was very cool to finally see what it looks like.  They also got two cats so I got to meet their little family. My brother-in-law has the best family.  It was fun to spend time and see them all again.  I cannot wait to go back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Part 2:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of my kiddos have nothing.   This week I gave them one of their Christmas presents, early.  It was a 24-count box of crayons that I had gotten at Wallmart at the beginning of the school year for 25 cents a box.  Most of them were so excited about all the colors!  It was cute that they were excited but kind of humbling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As part of a district assessment.  The first graders are writing a letter to Santa.  I had two of my kids that all they said was 'they wanted new shoes'.   My kiddos are 6 years old and they just want a new pair of shoes.  That's heartbreaking.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I am generally a positive person.  I try to look at the bright side of things and don't like bad situations to affect me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;One thing I have learned this year. Is I have little Christmas spirit.  I don't know why I love the holidays.  This year a Christmas miracle is taking place and I don't even know where to start.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I was talking to my really good friend the other day and telling her how I was kind of bummed about Christmas for all of my kiddos.  I had learned that some of them are even stressed about having 2-weeks off (what kid would think that, right?).  Well, what I didn't realize is that the school feeds them breakfast and lunch.  And they hopefully eat dinner at homes.   That broke my heart to hear that last week.  What child should have to be worried about eating over break?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;She told me she was going to talk to some of her contacts and see what she should do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;This morning I get a call from a guy that works in the Governers offie and he has some contacts and what would help my school out the most (the area my school is in is very rural and very poor - so there are no places in the area of the school that can provide assistance).  Well, this guy is amazing he told me there is a meeting at lunch time and to get back to him asap so they can get some things approved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I got an e-mail later on from him after my assistant principle called him back.  That they were looking at giving 50 of the neediest families $75 and to give $10 to 125 kids for something to have.  My assist. principle said that shoes and jackets where more of need than toys.  There was things at the bottom about food but at this point I could not focus because I was in total shock.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I e-mailed the guy back and told him that his e-mail brought tears to my eyes and how amazing this all was.  He replied back and told me that it has gotten a lot bigger!  I am still in total shock. I think it will hit me in a few days the impact that my friend has made.  I never really believed that one person could make such a huge difference.  After all I am 1-1st grade teacher in a state with thousands of others.  I am grateful and glad for all of my friends and how amazing they can be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Part 3:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am excited about a guy!  I don't even remember the last time I have been this excited and have had such a connection with someone (&lt;em&gt;I am such a cynic when it comes to men, or I was...&lt;/em&gt;).  Happy Girl am I!!!  Sorry no details just yet.  But, I'll keep you posted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-5404676263122149665?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5404676263122149665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=5404676263122149665' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5404676263122149665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5404676263122149665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-spirit.html' title='Christmas Spirit'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2096626149903167537</id><published>2009-11-10T21:32:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T21:42:58.461-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Special Helper</title><content type='html'>I have a little girl in my class.  She always is pouting or looks sad.  She has every reason too.  Her mom abandoned  her a few years ago and moved away.  Her dad, sister, and her moved in with the grandma. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has always been pouty.  Within the past month she has been drawing pictures and whenever she draws herself in the picture there is a frown.  &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;BIG RED LIGHT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;  I was kind of hoping it was just a one time thing but I keep seeing it.  The black pig tails with the black frowny face.  I know she is having a hard time adjusting because her best-friend changed schools a few weeks ago.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know what to do.  I asked her who she plays with at recess today and she told me she, "hides behind the bush".  I was thinking maybe she's hiding from the other kids.  Nope she said she just goes there by herself.  She did tell me she plays a little with a few girls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't really force anyone to be friends.  Plus some of them are still at that stage (i forget what it's called) where they don't really play with people they play near them but not together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So starting on Thursday she is going to come in at lunch and be my "special helper" or play on the computer.  I feel like I have to do something.  Hopefully this helps and she just needs some extra TLC.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-2096626149903167537?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2096626149903167537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2096626149903167537' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2096626149903167537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2096626149903167537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/11/special-helper.html' title='Special Helper'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-3388346076246662853</id><published>2009-11-10T21:23:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T21:32:25.988-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ACHOOO!</title><content type='html'>I am almost 31 years old. There I said it. Not that I really want people to know about it. But, I wanted to point out my age. Because for the first time in my life (&lt;em&gt;I think&lt;/em&gt;) I have allergies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are not mild allergies (&lt;em&gt;at least I don't think, but of course, i don't really know&lt;/em&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My nose itches and I sneeze many times each day. A few weeks ago I could not stop sneezing. Which was horrible when I'm teaching the kiddos and I had to stop every few seconds. One of my eyes feels itchy some days. I don't know what else it could be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm kind of hoping it goes away because this has been an on going thing for awhile. I really don't want this to be the new chapter of my life, &lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Thirties&lt;/span&gt; and Sneezing&lt;/u&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note: &lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;I tried some allergy medicine a few months back and it made me feel worse.   :-(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-3388346076246662853?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/3388346076246662853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=3388346076246662853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3388346076246662853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3388346076246662853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/11/achooo.html' title='ACHOOO!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-2056193855833878237</id><published>2009-11-07T23:17:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T23:27:31.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where is home?</title><content type='html'>I have always loved unpacking and putting stuff in it's spot.  (Packing and moving totally different story).  Every move I have ever done I've unpacked and been all moved in over a weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved the last weekend of August.  I moved in and started unpacking and then I started freaking out a little bit and completely stopped unpacking.  Several times a week I was considering paying the $2500 to break my lease.  Where ever things got placed when my family moved me in is where things stayed.  So for the past 2 months I have been surrounded by boxes and just not using stuff.  The only thing stopping me from breaking the lease was that I had no where to go? I could move back home (although my mom would be beyond pissed off).  Let's face I'm almost 31 and it's no longer acceptable to be living at home.  So where else would I go?&lt;br /&gt;Good things started happening last weekend.  I started going through the boxes on the kitchen counter and washing the dishes.  Today I went though all the boxes and my kitchen is almost all the way put away.  It's weird to see and have so much counter top to now use.  I have actually started thinking about how to decorate things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-2056193855833878237?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/2056193855833878237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=2056193855833878237' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2056193855833878237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/2056193855833878237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/11/where-is-home.html' title='Where is home?'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-8792860335784280013</id><published>2009-11-03T22:03:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T22:21:45.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beep! Beep!</title><content type='html'>Yes, I'm a slacker...  I have been neglecting my blog.  I have no good reasons for not updating my blog.  I have lots to blog about. So much has changed over the past few months.  Tonight I'll pick one of them - my car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the day of Heather's (sister) bridal party.  Kim (sister), Tricia (Heahter's MOH), and I were throwing my sister her party.  Heather wanted it to be mexican theme so the three of us decided to throw it at Macyo's.  It was the perfect set-up.  We didn't have to prepare any food or decorate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right after school I had to drive over to my parents house to help get things ready to take over to the restuart.  I was driving on the highway (maybe 10 miles west of Casa Grande) in the middle of knowhere when the gas pedal stopped working.  I pulled over to the side.  Luckily my phone and internet worked.  I looked up a tow truck and called them to come get me and my car.  I didn't end up having to wait very long on that hot August day. The guy towed us to Honda in Tempe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made it to Heathers party with only minutes to spare.  It was a lot of fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the dealership called to tell me that it was my transmission and it would be a little more than $3000 to fix.  My Honda was paid off and I was hoping to drive it for a few more years.  I didn't know what to do.  I didn't want to throw $3000 into a car that will having problems and I also didn't want to have car payments.  That night I went online to Tempe Honday (since that's where my car was at).  And I did one of those online applications.  I hadn't even thought about getting a car so when it asked what you were looking for I just put civic coupe.  It's what I had so I knew I would like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning I received a phone call from a sales guy at Honda.  He told me they had 2 models of what I was looking for.  He told me how much he would sell me the car for and aroung what the interest rate would be.  An hour later I headed down there with my dad.  He insisted to go since I never bought a car on my own.  On the way there he kept trying to talk me into getting an Accord instead of a civic.  While I would love to have gotten the Accord coupe all  I saw in my eyes was extra $$$ (car cost, matience, gas).  I wasn't quite ready for that.  Plus this car is to just get me to and from work.When I got there I looked at the color I was interested in and went in and signed the paperwork.  A hour after arriving at the dealership I left with my brand new car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time I go to purchase a car I will do the same thing and save myself those extra 'haggling' hours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-8792860335784280013?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/8792860335784280013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=8792860335784280013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/8792860335784280013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/8792860335784280013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/11/beep-beep.html' title='Beep! Beep!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-3560809663720029995</id><published>2009-09-11T22:42:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T23:13:05.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I &lt;3 my class...</title><content type='html'>So many changes have taken place in the past 2-months that I need to blog about.  I'm saving that for another time when I can think clearly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At my school every other Wednesday the kiddos have a half-day and us teachers stay at school for the rest of the day.  That day after the meeting was over we were told that an organization had donated some school supplies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Let me start off by saying that I teach in a very rural area and almost all of the kids live in poverty.  The school provides free breakfast and lunch to every student.  The school has dress code uniform.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I have a girl who does not have a pair of shoes that tie for her to be able to participate in PE (now she can because a pair of sneekers were donated for her to put on before PE).   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I have another girl who wear the same shirt and bottoms all week and by the end of the week she smells very stronly of pee.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I have about 4 students who were the same dirty shirt day after day.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;All of these things are normal to the students and they do not even think twice about it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So when I saw a boys and girls backpack on the table I quickly made my way over to snag one.  I ended up with the girls backpack.  I was going to give it to one of my girls who has this itty bitty backpack that doesn't even fit her folders and her papers get all crumpled up.  But, I ended up thinking about this other girl that I have.  She is always telling me she "forgot her backpack at home".  This morning I pulled her aside and told her about this backpack and asked if she wanted it.  Her eyes lit up and she got excited.  That's when I noticed that she was carrying one of those Fry's $1 grocery bags with a lot of her stuff in it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day when I gave this backpack to her she was so excited and happy.  When I was walking the kiddos out to the bus she told me that she was going to be able to "be organized". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking about it all night.  Even though the backpack didn't come from me personally it feels amazing that she has something she is excited and makes me think that her other bag probably was not something she wanted the other kids to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I pass out snack all of my kids want it.  If I decide to reward my kids and give them a small whatever.  They are grateful for what I give them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought as myself as a 1st grade teacher.  I am LOVING it at this school.  I love my students.  I seriously have such a good class. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I am teaching them they are teaching me that so much of what I value in life has no importance or validity.  I don't need to have 20 white shirts.  I don't need to have a new coach purse because what ever reason seems valid, etc.  And all of the other luxuries in my life that seems like a necessity are not.  My first graders are teaching a much needed lesson life lesson and they will never know.  And hopefully I am providing them with the skills and strategies so they can break the cycle of poverty -  thus providing them with choices when they are adults.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;***Sorry for all the typos and grammar errors.  I am too tired to even attempt to look for them.  Good night!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-3560809663720029995?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/3560809663720029995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=3560809663720029995' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3560809663720029995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3560809663720029995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-3-my-class.html' title='I &lt;3 my class...'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-6418653589797232071</id><published>2009-08-02T21:32:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T21:35:15.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time for bed</title><content type='html'>Please tell me how it is already 9:30? Tomorrow I start working as a teacher (the kids start next week). I have to start getting up and leaving my house around 6-something. Yikes! No more staying up till 3 for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will miss you 3 am!  See you in a few months on my fall break or the occasional weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-6418653589797232071?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/6418653589797232071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=6418653589797232071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/6418653589797232071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/6418653589797232071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/08/time-for-bed.html' title='Time for bed'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-5219085605662960741</id><published>2009-08-01T01:10:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T01:12:05.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It was a date</title><content type='html'>Not sure if there will be another one.  He didn't try to already make plans with me.  I had a lot of fun.  And I'd do it again If he asks me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-5219085605662960741?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5219085605662960741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=5219085605662960741' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5219085605662960741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5219085605662960741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/08/it-was-date.html' title='It was a date'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4548160932434767362</id><published>2009-07-30T01:10:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T01:18:05.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Date or non-date update</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Don't tell anyone I said this until it's confirmed&lt;/em&gt; BUT I think it's a date!  :-) He asked me if I wanted him to pick me up or meet there &lt;strong&gt;[date&lt;/strong&gt;]. Even though it's totally out of the way I think he should pick me up. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited! I thought I would add I forgot how much fun I have talking to him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4548160932434767362?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4548160932434767362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4548160932434767362' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4548160932434767362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4548160932434767362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/07/date-or-non-date-update.html' title='Date or non-date update'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-7030884034969062255</id><published>2009-07-27T23:38:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T00:34:34.459-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Date or non-date?</title><content type='html'>Is it a date or a non-date? I really have no idea. Ok, so you may be wondering what I am talking about. About a year and a half ago I went on two dates with this guy who I was really excited about. But, he is super busy and was leaving that year to spend a year in a different state for his job. He is back and we got in touch again over facebook. We have been catching up and talking. It's been great. He asked me if I wanted to go to dinner and a movie. [&lt;strong&gt;Date&lt;/strong&gt;]&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;It's this Thursday. Which I'm pretty sure is a [&lt;strong&gt;non-date&lt;/strong&gt;] night. I know his work schedule is crazy and he's always working or on call. I have decided I am not going to dwell on my date or non-date. I am just going to go and have fun and enjoy his company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;funkybrownchick.com "Coffee is the non-date date drink of choice. Asking someone to go for drinks, dinner and/or a movie with you clearly constitutes a “date”. Asking someone for coffee, on the other hand, doesn’t. Splitting the bill. That’s another non-date date activity. Allowing a guy to pay for the whole evening, on the other hand, sends the signal that you’re on a real date."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EEEEKKKKKKK I'm going on a date!!!! This will be my first date since Kevin (did I blog about that? We broke up in April. &lt;em&gt;note to self: remove his pictures from the blog&lt;/em&gt;!) I will take cash just in case.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-7030884034969062255?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/7030884034969062255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=7030884034969062255' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7030884034969062255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7030884034969062255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/07/date-or-non-date.html' title='Date or non-date?'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-5911676262069632579</id><published>2009-07-15T17:55:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T18:09:15.401-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Irritated</title><content type='html'>I went to check my e-mail and this article caught my attention: &lt;a href="http://news.aol.com/article/oldest-mom-dies/572373?icid=mainmaindl1link2http%3A%2F%2Fnews.aol.com%2Farticle%2Foldest-mom-dies%2F572373"&gt;Mom Dies at 69, Twins Orphaned&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had her twins when she was 66 with the help of a fertility clinic.  Of course they claim to not have known how old she was.  But, I don't know if I buy it.  Isn't the main motive of 'most' fertility clinics $$$.   It makes me sad when I see or hear of people that are misusing fertility.  I understand that for some women they have no desire to adopt.  Although I don't really agree with it.  We have stricter laws on getting and keeping your drivers licence than we do with using a fertility clinic.   Why is it okay for me to go out and have 5 or 6 kids at the same time?  Why is it okay to have children after retirement age?  I just don't get it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-5911676262069632579?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5911676262069632579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=5911676262069632579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5911676262069632579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5911676262069632579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/07/irritated.html' title='Irritated'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-3104110987787460809</id><published>2009-07-07T23:17:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T23:37:59.781-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Official x 4</title><content type='html'>Some of this is old infomation. I am officially:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Going to be a 1st grade teacher!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Single!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Gave my 2-week notice at my job!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Going to see my sister next week!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all kind of surreal. I am anxious and excited to be a teacher. At the beginning of this year I was only going to work in a certain school district/or city and for a certain grade. After all I had my other job so I wasn't going to switch jobs unless it was exactly what I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, yesterday I gave my 2-week notice. I have been there for almost 11 years. I think applying for the position that I did not get was what really opened my eyes up to the idea of "what am I doing at this place?". I earned my degree and they didn't want to promote me. I dont want to waste anymore time applying for things and "hope" that something works out. So times are a changing. Now I'm going to be working for a school in a city I had never heard of in a grade that I had no &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;0&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; experience with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depending on how my school year goes will depend on what I will do in the future. Your first few years are a big deal. They make or break you.  A lot of teachers only last a few years. If it does not work out (which i think it will) but if i doesn't....than I have looked into getting another bachelors degree in accounting or finance. Or maybe I could be a massage therapists. On TV they say I can make the same money in 3 days that there friends make in 5!!!! I'd sure love to rub my hands on some pimply fat rolls or see an old wrinkly man bum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin and I broke up. I think after your a certain age you don't put up with things. Did we have fun together?  Of course he cracks me up. But I felt like our relationship would never move past where it was. We still talk. And I think I'm done with the 40+ men. I think my age range should always remain 25-37 (even when I'm 50). ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister Heather comes back home next week from Germany. I have not seen her since she left a year ago. It will be so good to see her!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-3104110987787460809?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/3104110987787460809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=3104110987787460809' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3104110987787460809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/3104110987787460809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/07/official-x-4.html' title='Official x 4'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-1879836227795335468</id><published>2009-06-30T22:39:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T22:51:18.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Any ideas?</title><content type='html'>Today I found out that I will be a 1st grader teacher (&lt;em&gt;I was hoping for 3rd since that is where I have the most experience&lt;/em&gt;).  I have no experience with first graders (&lt;em&gt;the only grade I don't have some kind of experience teaching&lt;/em&gt;).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really excited and a little overwhelmed with being a teacher all on my own, it was easy when I had my mentor teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now need to come up with a lot of different ideas and things that are age appropriate.  I am scouring the Internet.  Have you seen or heard anything cute/fun that 1st graders have done?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-1879836227795335468?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1879836227795335468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=1879836227795335468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1879836227795335468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1879836227795335468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/06/any-ideas.html' title='Any ideas?'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-59066906507217102</id><published>2009-06-22T18:23:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T18:28:08.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's getting hot in here</title><content type='html'>but don't worry I'm not taking off my clothes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past weekend I went camping with some friends.  We went up to Woods Canyon Lake.  It was a lot of fun and I was COLD a lot!  Now I am back home and the weather seems hotter than ever.  &lt;sigh&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Only 3 more days of this weather on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt; I am leaving to visit Michelle in lovely Portland.  I cannot wait to go see her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-59066906507217102?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/59066906507217102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=59066906507217102' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/59066906507217102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/59066906507217102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-getting-hot-in-here.html' title='It&apos;s getting hot in here'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-6776117457360772531</id><published>2009-06-16T09:58:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T10:03:02.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been waiting for this</title><content type='html'>Holy crap I am tired.  I did want to get up early today so I can stop staying up till 3 am.  I got super amazing news today.  They place  I interviewed with last week wants to hire me!!!!  They are sending me a letter of intent.  I just have to wait until June 29th for their board meeting to become "official".   My first teaching job!  The people at the school are very nice.  It's a small farming community outside of of Maricopa (So i'll probably end up moving there)  or the commute would be an hour each way (which really isn't bad when I'm driving 50 miles).  :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-6776117457360772531?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/6776117457360772531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=6776117457360772531' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/6776117457360772531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/6776117457360772531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/06/ive-been-waiting-for-this.html' title='I&apos;ve been waiting for this'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-5735483600429351599</id><published>2009-06-11T23:48:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T23:56:52.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>For my interview last week I never received a call back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an interview today with another school district.  It's only 50 miles from my house!  I actually am really excited about this school district (&lt;em&gt;the only thing I didn't like about the other is for students who are misbehaving they have a solitary room for them.  It's 2009 people!  They aren't going to "think" their problems away&lt;/em&gt;).  The school I interviewed today had several openings all in the primary grades (&lt;em&gt;including 3rd&lt;/em&gt;)!  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was 3 people in my interview the HR lady, principle, and assistant principle.  I really loved the HR lady she was so sweet.  I also really liked the principle he was so friendly and made me very comfortable (&lt;em&gt;on a side note a lot of male principles intimidate me, not sure why&lt;/em&gt;).  I couldn't read the assistant principle.  She had a lovely necklace on that i really liked.  ;-)&lt;br /&gt;Some of their responses to my answers came across that they thought I was creative and had good ideas.  So hopefully they were impressed. They did say it would be about two weeks until I head anything (more interviews and the time for the background checks).  I'm super excited about this place. It's going to be a long 2-weeks.  I have a good feeling about this one!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess my dog wants to go to bed.  He keeps making noises which I would say is similar to a person sighing.  I would say he has done it 4 or 5 times in he last 10 minutes. For some reason after about 10:30 he cannot "sleep" on the floor and he wants to go to our bedroom to sleep on the bed.  And after awhile he gets mad and starts knocking stuff over on the desks - - what's up with that?  One word - Spoiled.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-5735483600429351599?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5735483600429351599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=5735483600429351599' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5735483600429351599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5735483600429351599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/06/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-1462274284235760778</id><published>2009-06-09T00:35:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T00:40:45.727-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shortest Blog</title><content type='html'>I have nothing to blog about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except maybe tomorrow I'll find out about last weeks job interview.  And I have another interview with a different district on Thursday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-1462274284235760778?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/1462274284235760778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=1462274284235760778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1462274284235760778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/1462274284235760778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/06/shortest-blog.html' title='Shortest Blog'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4282460976855082465</id><published>2009-06-04T18:10:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T18:26:47.512-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1st interview</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow I have my first teaching job interview.  How I feel tonight is the equivalent to a first date, you know where your nervous and excited all  the same time.  I have been applying in various districts in Arizona.  And only districts that have current positions posted on their websites.  Most of these districts are far away and not within the Phoenix metro area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have sent out a little more than a dozen applications.  I started about 3 weeks ago and had not heard a thing back.  Someone had messaged me on facebook and asked me If i had any lucky yet.  As i was writing her back telling her that I haven't I got a phone call to come in for an interview a couple of days later.   And that afternoon I got another call for one next week.  They are both about 50 miles one way to my house.  Yikes! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My interview tomorrow is in Superior which is east of the Superstition mountains in a small mining community.  I am looking forward to meeting with the principle and see what the school is like. They have a 1st and 4th grade opening.  Something else that is exciting is they have small class sizes they average about 14 students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was at the Honda dealership I started eye balling the CRV.   I still like my old car.  My plan has always been to run it into the ground.  It was brand new when I got it and I've had it for almost 8 years.  It's still very reliable and no payment is awesome!  I drive my mom's Toyota mini van that she got last year and I love everything about it (well other than it's a mini van).  It's so easy and fun to drive.  Every time I drive it I'm totally impressed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past few years I have thought of buying a house before getting a new car.  But when I don't know where I will be this year and even next year.  Should I stop that focus and get something fun to drive?  I don't know.  Cars are not a very good investment.  They are money suckers.  If I'm going to be driving an hour each way to work it would be nice to have something nice to drive.  Or I could move more east where it wouldn't be as much of a commute. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well time to start practicing for my interview.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4282460976855082465?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4282460976855082465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4282460976855082465' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4282460976855082465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4282460976855082465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/06/1st-interview.html' title='1st interview'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-5102517372427686165</id><published>2009-05-29T15:29:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T15:41:48.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Honda called</title><content type='html'>Apparently my ac is perfectly fine and doing everything it should.&lt;br /&gt;And everything on the ac checks out and is fine.  And there is nothing to charge me for to fix.  I should be super happy, by not having to pay for it, right?  Well, idk the idea of driving somewhere and then it stop working really makes me nervous.  I do not want to get a purple face from driving in a hot car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can you tell I hate being hot?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully all my car needed was routine maintenance to fix the ac problem fixed or else... we have bigger problems like I'm becoming a schizopherenic and just imagining the air is blistering hot. ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-5102517372427686165?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5102517372427686165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=5102517372427686165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5102517372427686165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5102517372427686165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/05/honda-called.html' title='Honda called'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-9143726142369165162</id><published>2009-05-29T13:30:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T13:47:57.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and my car</title><content type='html'>Okay so this weight watchers thing is not half bad. It does take a lot of time figuring out points. But i love the fact that i can eat anything I want. So if i want to waste all my points on fries and a hamburger someday than I can. Today is day #2. I went to Jack'n'crap for lunch and got a teriyaki chicken bowl and i'm a little nervous to see how many points that took up. Hopefully I can still eat dinner later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up early this morning to the take the car to the dealership. It's getting the 90,000 mile check up even though i'm at 100,600ish. I'm a little late. Actually I probably would not be getting that done except my ac is playing mind games with me. If i drive anywhere between 2-4 (when it's super hot outside) and i'm in stop and go traffic it will start blowing out air that is hotter than outside. Any other time of the day super cold air. The Honda guy said it's blowing out 40 degrees and there appears to be nothing wrong with it but they will test out what i told them it does. Depending on how much it cost to fix this "mysterious" ac problem will depending on what else gets fixed. My dad told me the ac could be as high as 1000 (agh). I really hope not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to get the other things fixed but I could wait. Something like the passenger door not locking from the key lock or door lock. I guess I could reach over and unlock it by hand. And I probably will since I think the quote was around $250. And I don't think the ac will be as cheap as it was to fix last year when the switch broke (that was like $80).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please be cheap Honda mechanic guy. I use to work with this lady that husband worked on cars at a dealership. Did you know that mechanics who stay busy make over $100,000k a year? :-\&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I would not work on cars for that amount. At what salary would you be all hot and sweaty working on cars for?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-9143726142369165162?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/9143726142369165162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=9143726142369165162' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/9143726142369165162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/9143726142369165162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/05/me-and-my-car.html' title='Me and my car'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-5263686701313058650</id><published>2009-05-27T21:29:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T21:41:07.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fatty McMuffinpants</title><content type='html'>I stopped doing personal training about 6 weeks ago for two reasons #1 it was expensive and #2 the only results i was seeing was getting stronger.  Since I stopped personal training I have been enjoying eating to go and fast food.  A little too much I just weighted myself and i am up at least 15 pounds.  Holy crap! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my hair lady Shauna was telling me she joined Weight Watchers and in 6 weeks lost 30 pounds.  I thought today about perhaps joining.  Well, tonight I joined the "online" weight watchers.  I want to see if I can do it by myself.  A week is free.  So if not then I will go to a meeting by my house.   Skinny jeans I'm coming for you (&lt;em&gt;now just need to figure out where I put them&lt;/em&gt;).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-5263686701313058650?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/5263686701313058650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=5263686701313058650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5263686701313058650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/5263686701313058650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/05/fatty-mcmuffinpants.html' title='Fatty McMuffinpants'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4672108041551862624</id><published>2009-05-26T20:32:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T20:38:59.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not much is going on</title><content type='html'>I have been applying with a lot of different school districts.  It is nuts how many copies of things they want in addition to my application, resume, and letters of recommendation.  It takes about an hour to do each one.  I have only been applying at schools that show open teaching positions on their websites.   Most of these schools are far away from my house.  Pretty much I have no idea what I will be doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still working on being certified in Texas.  I have a deficiency on my Arizona certificate that I have two years to update.  I have to take Arizona Constitution.  It's a 1-credit class and I am taking it.  Luckily it will be over in 4 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My future brother-in-law was in town over the weekend and stayed at our house.  It was nice getting to know him better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4672108041551862624?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4672108041551862624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4672108041551862624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4672108041551862624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4672108041551862624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/05/not-much-is-going-on.html' title='Not much is going on'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-7073865938524421974</id><published>2009-05-18T17:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T17:17:58.384-07:00</updated><title type='text'>4 words</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tempted to quit job!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not sure how I would explain that one to my parents.  Not that it’s really any of their business.  And they wouldn’t understand.  I work at my old job 2 hours in the afternoons from 3:30-5:30.  It’s a pretty sweet set up.  The thing is every time I am there – it just makes me mad.  I still feel I was the most qualified for the position and I can’t get over it when I’m there (even if it was probably for the best).  I got sent an e-mail last week asking if I would please do training in June.  I haven’t responded yet. &lt;br /&gt;I feel like being here is a waste of my time.  The only plus is the little pay check I get.  But, is it really worth it?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t have a teaching job lined up for the next school year.  Should I feel nervous that I don’t have one?  Because I don’t. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The responsible part of me thinks that I need to wait until I get a teaching contract before I quit this pony show.  The irresponsible childish part of me thinks I should just throw caution to the wind and things will work out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know is something needs to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a happy note, I finished my 1st class.  3 credits down another 30 to go!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-7073865938524421974?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/7073865938524421974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=7073865938524421974' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7073865938524421974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7073865938524421974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/05/4-words.html' title='4 words'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-7526107495465986626</id><published>2009-05-13T23:26:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T23:27:49.759-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kim</title><content type='html'>I needed a laugh.  See for yourself at my sisters &lt;a href="http://swimfast85213.blogspot.com/2009/02/who-doesnt-like-color-pink_15.html"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-7526107495465986626?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/7526107495465986626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=7526107495465986626' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7526107495465986626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/7526107495465986626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/05/kim.html' title='Kim'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-8463776655746690586</id><published>2009-05-13T23:05:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T23:18:52.732-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Positive attitude where are you?</title><content type='html'>I have been putting off my blog. &lt;br /&gt;Lately I have felt like such a loser. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow will be 3 weeks of having this cold, maybe that's partly why the loser mentality keeps lurking around.  I hardly ever get sick.  If i do it's a cold and it last maybe 3-5 days.  Maybe I caught one of those super germs I've heard them talk about on the news.  If you haven't heard there are so many people that use medicine incorrectly "&lt;a href="http://www.feelgoodagain.com/supergerms.htm"&gt;Antibiotic abuse is so widespread that it is breeding new strains of germs, known as "super germs.&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be super happy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I finally passed my state test.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I went and got my teaching certificate.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Instead I am not.  The idea of finding a job is daunting.  I started submitting applications to various places some are far away and some are close but not ideal.  I also am having the state of Texas review my credentials to be certified over there.  At this point I'll go anywhere depending on the salary.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't want to sub anymore and I don't want to do my office job anymore.  Every day I go to my office job and it makes me mad that  I didn't get that job.  I really believe I was the more qualified one.  But, things happen for a reason so i should be counting my blessings I suppose.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The personal training lady called me the other day.  I decided not to renew my contract.  It was too expensive.  I am afraid to weight myself but i have a feeling that any weight I did lose is now back.  Why can't I lose weight without going on a diet?  But, I guess that's what everyone is after.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-8463776655746690586?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/8463776655746690586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=8463776655746690586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/8463776655746690586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/8463776655746690586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/05/positive-attitude-where-are-you.html' title='Positive attitude where are you?'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3109524412973347219.post-4334063642523613716</id><published>2009-05-06T23:00:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T23:03:31.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rx</title><content type='html'>I've been "sick" forever it seems.  I have kinda of just gotten use to it.  Until yesterday when I had this unimaginable pain in my ear.  I haven't felt this kind of pain since I was a kid.  Well I was finally desperate enough to go to the doctor. I sucked up the cost and 100 bucks later I feel so much better.  I just hope tomorrow my hearing is back to normal (but at least the pain is mostly gone).  :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3109524412973347219-4334063642523613716?l=angelasmemoir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/feeds/4334063642523613716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3109524412973347219&amp;postID=4334063642523613716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4334063642523613716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3109524412973347219/posts/default/4334063642523613716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelasmemoir.blogspot.com/2009/05/rx.html' title='Rx'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17075773607352883218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liJu3teTACQ/Sermaa2Ny-I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/DR4dfnUFB9s/S220/Angela+Down.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
