<?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-8064002793253445830</id><updated>2012-01-04T12:44:15.409-07:00</updated><category term='Zoo'/><category term='Tempest'/><category term='bus'/><category term='Star Trek'/><title type='text'>The Life of Red</title><subtitle type='html'>This is a place for random thoughts of me, Red, and all things related to my life.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15050158726176607527</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ryTBqB9JfoA/S9sPx2u_ilI/AAAAAAAAAW8/yxsI8GCKc8Q/S220/L1005345_bw.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-7061889341587380785</id><published>2012-01-04T12:44:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T12:44:15.421-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've decided to star the couch to 5k program again. I did my first run on Monday. The fun thing about it this time is that a friend of mine is doing it right now too, and she happened to start on Monday as well. Today is day 2 for both of us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday's run went fairly well. During the run, I tried to pay attention to what tricks my mind was using on me to make me stop, how true or untrue those thoughts were, and figure out how my body actually feels. It's amazing to me how many times I tried to talk myself into stopping. I made so many excuses and reasons for why I had to stop and most of them were untrue. I could have made better excuses using the truth rather than the made up stuff that I tell myself since that is what I'm used to telling myself. Here are a few of the lies/reasons my mind came up with for why I should stop:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. No one was in the gym with me so no one would know if I didn't actually complete the workout. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I can't run for a full minute without stopping because my asthma won't let me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I don't really want to run anyway. I've never liked it much&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I'll pass out or fall off this treadmill soon if I don't stop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I've done enough for today. I don't really need to finish this do I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I'll never be a good runner. My body isn't made to do this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Holy crap my legs hurt. I have to stop before I damage something&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of those are seriously baffeling to me, but those were actually the ones that got closest to making me stop. Now, here is the truth behind all those reasons and why I didn't listen to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I'll know if I didn't do this and I hate lying to my husband since I know how proud of me he'd be if I just complete this. Besides, I'm sick of lying to myself and saying I'll do something and then not do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. While that may be true sometimes, during that run, my breathing was just fine. I know what it feels like to have an asthma attack, and when one is coming on and I was fine. I was breathing heavily, which I'm not used to, but I was getting enough air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I've never liked running because I've never been able to do it for long. I have to start somewhere. Maybe I won't like running, but since I've never actually tried doing it for very long, I can't justify saying I don't like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I felt light headed a bit, but not nearly enough to pass out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I'd done more than what I usually did, but I was there to see if I could do the whole thing, not just part of it. I wanted to prove to myself that I am tough enough to do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. My body can do amazing things. I may never be a race winning runner, but I can run and my body is made to move. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Yes, my legs hurt...a lot, but they didn't feel damaged. They felt sore and tired like they are supposed to when you run. They were still moving at the pace I wanted them to and I hadn't even come close to falling so they were fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's crazy what my mind will do to try to get me to not work out. I'm determined to continue to pay attention to them so I can stop those thoughts in their tracks and change them into something positive instead. I will not be defeated by my own mind anymore. I'm not happy with how I look and act, so something has to change. That something is my mind set. I can feel the shift starting. I know I'm in for a tough ride, but I also know that I am capable of doing this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-7061889341587380785?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/7061889341587380785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=7061889341587380785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/7061889341587380785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/7061889341587380785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2012/01/ive-decided-to-star-couch-to-5k-program.html' title=''/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15050158726176607527</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ryTBqB9JfoA/S9sPx2u_ilI/AAAAAAAAAW8/yxsI8GCKc8Q/S220/L1005345_bw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-4566085521568141081</id><published>2011-11-09T11:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T11:53:08.609-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Week 1</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm 1 week into the deal I made with Wil to lose weight. So far, I'm down 3 lbs. I've done really well with eating better. I still need to work out more, but that is getting better as well. I'm getting better and making myself wake up at 4:30 in the morning and do a workout no matter how tired I am. I did it this morning and although I am tired, I'm very alert and am functioning well at work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a ton of support on this weight lose thing right now and I love it. Wil has been supportive without getting on my case about it (which is an improvement). My mom and I are calling each other daily to discuss our eating habits, ideas on what to change, and how we are doing about working out. I am in a group of 4 other 20-29 year olds who need to lose the same amount as me and weight very close to what I weight right now. We post messages daily to each other to share how we are doing and give suggestions to each other one how to fix the things we are struggling with. It's been amazing. Having a few people that I know will be waiting to hear how I am doing is helping me stick to what I know I should be doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Week 1 has been great!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-4566085521568141081?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/4566085521568141081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=4566085521568141081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/4566085521568141081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/4566085521568141081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2011/11/week-1.html' title='Week 1'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15050158726176607527</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ryTBqB9JfoA/S9sPx2u_ilI/AAAAAAAAAW8/yxsI8GCKc8Q/S220/L1005345_bw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-5534076893503915798</id><published>2011-11-03T11:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-03T11:12:17.841-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Deal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"&gt;Yesterday, I made a deal with Wil that I will weigh between 130-135 lbs by Feb. 14th. In the past, I've tried to motivate myself with positive (I get something if I make my goal). I'd start out strong and then my motivation would go away. This time, I've decided that there should be something to deter me from giving up. We have agreed that if I do make my goal, I get to buy an item I've wanted for a while, but couldn't justify getting it. If I don't make my goal, I will not be able to use any of our cameras until I weigh 125-130 lbs. As I love taking pictures and take my cameras everywhere with me, I think this will be a HUGE deterrent when I want to give up, or give in to temptations. Something has to change. I’ve tried all the positive reinforcement and it hasn’t worked. I’ve tried writing a workout into my schedule and it hasn’t worked. Letting myself down was a deterrent, but it wasn’t strong enough. The thought of not being able to use my cameras is really hard on me. Especially since we typically go to Bryce Canyon shortly after Valentine’s Day and I don’t know how I could go and not have my camera. It would drive me crazy! Hopefully I can stick with things this time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"&gt;I got my morning work out in this morning. I'm also working on reducing my bread intake. I eat a crazy amount of bread/bread products. I'm sure this is a huge reason why I haven't been losing weight. Now to just stick to this during the holidays. Wish me luck!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-5534076893503915798?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/5534076893503915798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=5534076893503915798' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/5534076893503915798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/5534076893503915798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2011/11/new-deal.html' title='New Deal'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15050158726176607527</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ryTBqB9JfoA/S9sPx2u_ilI/AAAAAAAAAW8/yxsI8GCKc8Q/S220/L1005345_bw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-1196447619665729103</id><published>2009-06-23T09:51:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T09:54:17.081-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep Deprived</title><content type='html'>I don't know what is going on with me, but I am feeling totally sleep deprived. I typically am in bed by 9 at the latest, but I usually can't fall asleep for quite a while. When I do get to sleep, I don't seem to sleep well. Either I wake up a lot or I have crazy, and sometimes disturbing dreams and wake up feeling like I never went to bed. I hope this ends soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-1196447619665729103?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/1196447619665729103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=1196447619665729103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1196447619665729103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1196447619665729103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2009/06/sleep-deprived.html' title='Sleep Deprived'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15050158726176607527</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ryTBqB9JfoA/S9sPx2u_ilI/AAAAAAAAAW8/yxsI8GCKc8Q/S220/L1005345_bw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-3415329402319928265</id><published>2009-01-23T11:42:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T12:06:33.519-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blech</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;As I've said, this blog is for my random thoughts. This post wil be one of those times when I just want to write out my thoughts. It is not intended to be taken completely seriously. It is not a request for some serious advice or anything. I just need to get out of my own head a little and writing is my way of doing that. Of course, if you have some advice that you believe would be helpful, I am always happy to hear it. Ok, here I go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever wanted to kill your spouse, but you have no idea exactly why you want that? I have. This past week has been really hard on me and, other than the obvious reason, I have no idea why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My asthma has been awful this week, especially Monday night through Wednesday, but it still isn't where I would like it to be. I had a blessing on Monday and went to the doctor on Tuesday. My doctor gave me a ton more medicine and strict instructions on how much to take of what and when. It was insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, lately, anytime Wil reminds me to take my medicine or asks me if I've done it (which he only does because he's concerned about my health..I know...), I end up getting really snippity and think of a ton of ways to use my medicine to make him uncomfortable. I know that doesn't really fit with the whole "newlywed" thing usually, but I've never claimed to be normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've come up with and, thankfully avoided doing, many horrific things that I could do to my husband, or the next person who happens to look at me. Even when Wil has done nothing annoying and hasn't said anything remotely obnoxious, I sometimes still want to destroy him. So my question is why. I don't think I could ever actually figure that out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, while I was getting ready for bed, I had one of those unexplainable moments. I was just listening to my iPod as I got ready for bed and layed down to go to sleep. Wil wasn't even in the room. When he came in to talk to me for a few seconds, I was annoyed that he didn't realize I was in a bad mood and that he didn't try to cheer me up, and at the same time, I was thankful that he stayed away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I'll ever really understand what has been going on with me this week. In the end though, I've decided that no matter how much I might feel the urge to kill my husband, if in the end, I realize that I love him far more than I am annoyed by him, than that is what matters. Since I love him more than anything else in my life, besides my faith, I don't think I could ever actually bring myself to do anything to hurt him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus ends my rambling thoughts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-3415329402319928265?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/3415329402319928265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=3415329402319928265' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/3415329402319928265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/3415329402319928265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2009/01/blech.html' title='Blech'/><author><name>Red</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15050158726176607527</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ryTBqB9JfoA/S9sPx2u_ilI/AAAAAAAAAW8/yxsI8GCKc8Q/S220/L1005345_bw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-32646833765074093</id><published>2008-12-09T13:05:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T13:07:23.439-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog for me and Wil</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;I decided that since this blog is for my random thoughts, I'd create a blog for me and Wil to share. Here's our new blog address: http://wil-jess.blogspot.com/  Feel free to take a look. Wil probably won't be writing much on it, but I'll make sure everyone knows what's going on with him anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-32646833765074093?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/32646833765074093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=32646833765074093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/32646833765074093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/32646833765074093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/12/blog-for-me-and-wil.html' title='Blog for me and Wil'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-1431770447243172562</id><published>2008-12-01T20:45:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T20:51:19.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Final Countdown</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;The wedding is less than a week away! I can't believe it. The past three weeks have gone so fast (except for the hours when I was working of course). I am so excited to marry Wil. He's my best friend, my everything. He means more to me than I could begin to express. I'm so glad that he fits in so well with my family and that I fit in with his. This past year has been full of ups and downs, but I'm so happy to be finishing the year married to the man I love. It's been an amazing ride, and I can't wait to start on our next great adventure, together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-1431770447243172562?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/1431770447243172562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=1431770447243172562' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1431770447243172562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1431770447243172562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/12/final-countdown.html' title='Final Countdown'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-3890400697518392323</id><published>2008-11-08T18:27:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T18:58:32.954-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me &amp; Wil</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;So, I am in a really weird mood and I'm super hyper, so I actually put mak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;e up o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;n today. So, not only is my hair super cute from last night, my face also looks good. I made Wil put up with my silliness and got some pictures of both of us. Considering I was taking most of them without a tripod or anything, they turned out really cute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRZCSUR0z-I/AAAAAAAAAM4/X9InFPRxQuo/s1600-h/DSCN1171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRZCSUR0z-I/AAAAAAAAAM4/X9InFPRxQuo/s320/DSCN1171.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266469696704925666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRZCS0286AI/AAAAAAAAANA/IeZ1TKC46X0/s1600-h/DSCN1172.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRZCS0286AI/AAAAAAAAANA/IeZ1TKC46X0/s320/DSCN1172.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266469705450579970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRZDLYmY-uI/AAAAAAAAANI/WtgB0gl_Rd4/s1600-h/DSCN1174.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRZDLYmY-uI/AAAAAAAAANI/WtgB0gl_Rd4/s320/DSCN1174.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266470677117467362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRZDMLoGI7I/AAAAAAAAANQ/XnYwsX3dMwo/s1600-h/DSCN1180.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 194px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRZDMLoGI7I/AAAAAAAAANQ/XnYwsX3dMwo/s320/DSCN1180.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266470690814829490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRZDMmabQiI/AAAAAAAAANY/hnjkwCe-a6E/s1600-h/DSCN1181.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRZDMmabQiI/AAAAAAAAANY/hnjkwCe-a6E/s320/DSCN1181.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266470698005250594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-3890400697518392323?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/3890400697518392323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=3890400697518392323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/3890400697518392323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/3890400697518392323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/11/me-wil.html' title='Me &amp; Wil'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRZCSUR0z-I/AAAAAAAAAM4/X9InFPRxQuo/s72-c/DSCN1171.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-1945428977064132676</id><published>2008-11-08T18:06:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T18:27:45.855-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Hair</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;My mom and I went to get our hair cut (well, get my trimmed and hers cut) last night. It was a lot of fun. Mom came with me to where I get my hair done, Lunatic Fringe. Her stylist was Sarah. I was with my usual stylist, McKenzie, who I think is amazing. McKenzie was very careful not to change my length too much, since she knew I was getting married in a month, and did a really cute blow dry to make my hair have soft curls. Sarah gave mom a new look. First she did it curly (which I only kind of saw through the mirror when McKenzie wasn't in the way (mom was directly behind me). Once I was finished, I got to see Sarah straightening mom's hair. I've never seen it straightened and it looked SO good. I made Wil take pictures of our cuteness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;                                                            Mom's new hair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRY6cco8dXI/AAAAAAAAAMY/G8dNt752vYs/s1600-h/DSCN1157.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRY6cco8dXI/AAAAAAAAAMY/G8dNt752vYs/s320/DSCN1157.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266461074655049074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;                                                                                The back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRY6c-WwMtI/AAAAAAAAAMg/vvwTB6owmP0/s1600-h/DSCN1160.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRY6c-WwMtI/AAAAAAAAAMg/vvwTB6owmP0/s320/DSCN1160.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266461083705553618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;                                                                            We're so cute&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRY6dC0X_HI/AAAAAAAAAMo/TdNidUA_wqQ/s1600-h/DSCN1162.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRY6dC0X_HI/AAAAAAAAAMo/TdNidUA_wqQ/s320/DSCN1162.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266461084903537778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;                                                                                    Yes, I am a dork..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRY6daRALsI/AAAAAAAAAMw/g5OUIob7InM/s1600-h/DSCN1167.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRY6daRALsI/AAAAAAAAAMw/g5OUIob7InM/s320/DSCN1167.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266461091197628098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-1945428977064132676?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/1945428977064132676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=1945428977064132676' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1945428977064132676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1945428977064132676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/11/new-hair-and-fun-pics.html' title='New Hair'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SRY6cco8dXI/AAAAAAAAAMY/G8dNt752vYs/s72-c/DSCN1157.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-2844597106985493474</id><published>2008-11-04T11:34:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T12:10:32.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Kenner's</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Last night, Wil and I went out to get sushi with our good friends, Chris &amp;amp; Brittany Kenner. It was a blast. The sushi was great, the people we were with are awesome, we laughed a lot, and we got some crazy pictures, and even a few cute ones. The place is called Tokai Sushi 4U and has some of the best sushi I've had. After we were all stuffed, we went back to Wil's. We played Little Big Planet, which is crazy, but seriously fun with four people, and then watched Iron Man. Wil just recently hooked up the surround sound so he was excited to show it off. It was awesome. I fell asleep long before the movie ended. Anyway, I've got the pictures from last night below.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://widget-04.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=1657324662892687364&amp;amp;site=widget-04.slide.com" style="width: 400px; height: 320px;" name="flashticker" align="middle"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="width: 400px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=1657324662892687364&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-04.slide.com/p1/1657324662892687364/bb_t024_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" ismap="ismap" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=1657324662892687364&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-04.slide.com/p2/1657324662892687364/bb_t024_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" ismap="ismap" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=1657324662892687364&amp;amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-04.slide.com/p4/1657324662892687364/bb_t024_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" ismap="ismap" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-2844597106985493474?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/2844597106985493474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=2844597106985493474' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/2844597106985493474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/2844597106985493474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/11/kenners.html' title='The Kenner&apos;s'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-1172465790370392228</id><published>2008-11-03T08:56:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T09:06:06.129-07:00</updated><title type='text'>November Already?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;Holy cow! It's November. There's only a little over a month now before the wedding and the final details have to start coming together now. Luckily, this should be my last week of school. This week will be crazy since I have 2 group projects to do, but after that, I'll only have to worry about work and the wedding. I don't have much planned this month, unlike last month which had something going on pretty much every day, but that's probably a good thing, since I'll need to be running around trying to get things taken care of. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;So what do I still have to get done? I really don't know for sure (I know...that's a really bad thing). But, here is the list of things I do need to do (if I don't get them out of my head and written somewhere I'll go a little crazy):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Meet with the florist to finalize the details (hopefully will be done on Thursday)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Get head count for the ceremony/luncheon (even though we pretty much know who's coming already)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finalize reception decorations/talk to Steph and Jenn to see what still needs to be done for that&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Get marriage license (I'm told that that is important :D)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Get ring cleaned (easily done anytime I'm at the mall..)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Figure out how to go about the whole name change thing and how long I have to change everything (this is the one that scares me the most..)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Find time to spend with Wil.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;Simple enough I guess, but I'm still nervous about making sure everything gets done. Luckily, my family is amazing and have been helping out a TON! Wil is also great and willing to do any errands I need done while I'm at work. I think I'd have completely given up on everything without Wil and my family. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;Anyway, time to get back to work. I've got a ton to do (not even including that list above) and very little time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-1172465790370392228?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/1172465790370392228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=1172465790370392228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1172465790370392228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1172465790370392228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/11/november-already.html' title='November Already?'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-3204200745822567706</id><published>2008-10-27T11:37:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T12:30:18.517-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy Busy Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;This weekend was a crazy one for me. I had SO many things going on all at once. Friday was my birthday, but it was a fairly normal day. Carleen decorated my desk at work and made a cake for me. That was nice. Also, my work friends got me a $25 gift certificate to Wal-Mart. The day at work went by like usual. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;After work, I worked on making cookies. Half way through making the cookies, Wil's brother, Drew, came over to help us get the couch that was downstairs out onto the patio. Wil and I purchased a really nice couch from my great aunt that we want to move down there. The blue couch that was being moved out is seriously heavy. Drew was at the bottom holding most of the weight. Moving that thing just about made Wil pass out since he's not really used to moving heavy objects. Drew was resting the couch on his head for a while, so we were afraid he might break his neck for the 3rd time. It was scary to watch all of that an know there was nothing I could do to help. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;After moving that, I went back to making cookies only to discover that we were out of chocolate chips (which is crazy because I swear there were at least 2 bags in 2 different cupboards last week). So, Wil and I went to go get chocolate chips. While I finished up with the cookies, we ordered Wingers take out since it was around 8 pm and we were starving. We ate and Wil and I were both so exhausted that we fell asleep pretty quickly after that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Saturday, I woke up at 4:30 so I could meet up with Jenn and Steph to do my bridal pictures. Of course, I thought I'd brought everything, but I forgot to bring my make-up. Jenn's mom ended up using Mary Kay samples instead. Steph did an AWESOME job with my hair, and Jenn's mom made me look amazing with the make up. The shoot went great and I was much warmer than I thought I would be. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;After the photo shoot, Jenn, Steph and I made our way to the Studio for a bridal shower from my dad's family. The theme was all about games. There were cards for a large variety of games all over the walls. Some spelled out "Congrats Jess" and my niece, Annee, spelled "love" with the cards on another wall. It was a lot of fun. For gifts, they gave me a variety of board games. It was so much fun and the games they got for me and Wil are great. I'm so excited to play them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;When I got back to Wil's house, I ran around like a crazy person to try to put away all my wedding dress stuff (the gown was in a garment bag so Wil couldn't see it). Once I stopped to breathe, Nate introduced me to his girlfriend, Megan. We went out to eat with them at a place that Wil and I had never been to. I think it was called Thai Delight. It was amazingly good food. Megan got along really well with Wil and me, especially considering that I was beyond exhausted and Wil wasn't much better. It was a ton of fun. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Shortly after that, as I was falling asleep on the bare floor with a couch cushion as a pillow, Wil asked when I wanted to go deliver the cookies to our friends, the Kenner's. I had made them specifically for them. I groggily told Wil that we can go whenever. He asked if I wanted to go before I fell asleep. I very sleeply agreed. I told Wil that we should probably call them. Wil said they are my friends too so I should call them. I tried not to be annoyed when I told him that I am fine with going anywhere but I would not call anyone at the moment. I was tired and falling asleep and he could barely understand me when we were right next to each other. So he ended up calling them. The Kenner's, Chris and Brittany, were just about to head to the Gateway to get some ice cream. They invited us to come along.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;So we headed out for our 2nd double date in the same day. We gave them the cookies, which they were really excited about, and went to the Gateway. After hanging out there for a while, we finally got Ben &amp;amp; Jerry's and decided we should all go back to Wil's house for either a movie or so that Chris and Wil could play a game. We planned on watching Iron Man. That didn't happen. Wil and Chris played Little Big Planet, and Brittany quickly fell asleep on Chris' lap. I was attempting to stay awake to hang out with them, but it didn't last long and I finally decided to go to bed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;On Sunday, we had been invited to a dinner with Wil's cousins on his mom's side. So we headed down to Provo so that I could meet them and Wil could catch up with them. It was a lot of fun. Wil kept us all laughing almost the entire time. When we got home, I relaxed for a few minutes, did my homework and then quickly fell asleep again. Apparently, I didn't get enough sleep this weekend because I still feel like I'm asleep. Oh well. It was crazy, but it was SO much fun. I haven't laughed that much in a long time. This weekend also reminded me how much I enjoy being with my family, and my friends and how much I love spending any amount of time doing anything with Wil.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-3204200745822567706?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/3204200745822567706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=3204200745822567706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/3204200745822567706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/3204200745822567706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/10/busy-busy-weekend.html' title='Busy Busy Weekend'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-8547502098771450061</id><published>2008-10-24T07:31:00.015-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T10:50:46.332-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain's Surgery</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Most of those who know me, know that my dog had to go into surgery yesterday to remove a mast cell tumor that was on her neck. I thought I'd let you all know how she is and post a few pictures of how sad she looked last night (she was probably just seriously groggy, but Wil and I had trouble not laughing at her a few times).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Wil dropped her off early in the morning so she could get x-rays and blood work done to make sure that the one tumor was the only one she had. The results came back on that around 11 am. As far as they could tell with the tests they'd done, Rain only had the one tumor. The vet called me to let me know of the potential things that could happen with the surgery. I'm not going to go into that. I felt better after talking to her, and was finally able to relax a little about how Rain was doing. She went into surgery about an hour later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Around 6 pm, the vet called and talked to Wil. He was told that the surgery went great and we could pick her up around 7:30 or 8. He was also told that they didn't have to cut into the muscle like they thought they would so Rain's pain would also be less than they thought it would be. When we went to pick her up, the vet tech went over what we need to do with her to make sure she heals. She needs three different pills taken once or twice a day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;When we got home, we gave Rain the pills she needed and put her on her bed in the kitchen while I made dinner. She was clearly exhausted but seemed to refuse to fall asleep. It was ridiculous. I could tell how tired she was and it was killing me to see her like that. I even tried laying on the floor next to her to try to get her to go to sleep. She did relax and laid her head on my arm with our noses touching, but she heard a sound and she made herself be as alert as she could be. Finally, she passed out and didn't wake up until I had to move her into her kennel for the night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;This morning, she seemed a lot more like herself. She was wagging her tail and really excited to see me when I let her out. She didn't jump around like she used to (which is actually nice because it allows me to walk without almost falling over her). It was really cute because she just stuck by my side as I got her food then started to eat while I got her pills ready. I think she smelled the peanut butter because a few seconds after I got it opened, she was timidly walking back inside (she knows she's not allowed inside unless we tell her to come in). I gave her the pills hidden in peanut butter, took her to go potty, and then put her back in her kennel since Wil wasn't awake to watch her yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Wil should be taking her to the vet soon so they can remove the bandage on her neck and make sure the surgery site looks good. All seems to be going as well as can be expected. Rain is very happy to be home with us again (which is probably why she didn't want to fall asleep..she was probably afraid that she'd wake up with more of her shaven and in more pain). The pictures were taken last night while I made dinner and watched her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHU4B8AIMI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Ur3R863FExU/s1600-h/DSCN1080.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260719898803314882" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHU4B8AIMI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Ur3R863FExU/s320/DSCN1080.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHZfeg7GTI/AAAAAAAAAJA/oB530IPE2c0/s1600-h/DSCN1081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260724974535776562" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHZfeg7GTI/AAAAAAAAAJA/oB530IPE2c0/s320/DSCN1081.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHnkvzZ1JI/AAAAAAAAAJw/kZ05vwyRxtg/s1600-h/DSCN1086.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260740458238825618" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHnkvzZ1JI/AAAAAAAAAJw/kZ05vwyRxtg/s320/DSCN1086.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHmwAvaqUI/AAAAAAAAAJo/tdPGC6bXKhU/s1600-h/DSCN1086.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHjM7Dq0oI/AAAAAAAAAJg/pBtWylSGgqo/s1600-h/DSCN1087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260735650896466562" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHjM7Dq0oI/AAAAAAAAAJg/pBtWylSGgqo/s320/DSCN1087.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHo8ZMVYjI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/TfBxZa3xUgo/s1600-h/DSCN1082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260741963997864498" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHo8ZMVYjI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/TfBxZa3xUgo/s320/DSCN1082.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHo76TifqI/AAAAAAAAAKI/KEr8DSoOoc8/s1600-h/DSCN1083.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260741955706584738" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHo76TifqI/AAAAAAAAAKI/KEr8DSoOoc8/s320/DSCN1083.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHo6pnwaPI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/91bUasfkkZU/s1600-h/DSCN1085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260741934048110834" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHo6pnwaPI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/91bUasfkkZU/s320/DSCN1085.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHiryelguI/AAAAAAAAAJY/_MiCjjkaNvY/s1600-h/DSCN1088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260735081657762530" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHiryelguI/AAAAAAAAAJY/_MiCjjkaNvY/s320/DSCN1088.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHgM7z11VI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/wAnmrLITazM/s1600-h/DSCN1089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260732352563631442" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHgM7z11VI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/wAnmrLITazM/s320/DSCN1089.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHfteKq66I/AAAAAAAAAJI/c37uRAOBwJc/s1600-h/DSCN1090.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260731812030376866" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; cursor: pointer; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHfteKq66I/AAAAAAAAAJI/c37uRAOBwJc/s320/DSCN1090.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-8547502098771450061?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/8547502098771450061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=8547502098771450061' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/8547502098771450061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/8547502098771450061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/10/rains-surgery.html' title='Rain&apos;s Surgery'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SQHU4B8AIMI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Ur3R863FExU/s72-c/DSCN1080.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-3968526812371186397</id><published>2008-10-22T07:58:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T08:06:34.225-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wait Until Dark</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;The Empress Theatre (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.empresstheatre.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;http://www.empresstheatre.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;) in Magna is starting their new show, Wait Until Dark, starting on Friday. The Empress always puts on a great show and the theatre there is amazing. There are 3 sections (South, North and East) so it's always fun to see every show in each of the sections because you get a completely different angle on the show. I've helped out at the box office, the concession stand, as an usher, and as an audience member many times, and no matter how many times I hear/see a show, it is always amazing. Also, my cousin's husband as well of some others I know well are in the cast. They are all great at what they do and I can't wait to see Wait Until Dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom and I will be helping out at the box office for this show. If you want to get tickets when we'll be there, get them for one of the following days:&lt;br /&gt;Friday, October 31st&lt;br /&gt;Saturday November 1st&lt;br /&gt;Friday November 14th&lt;br /&gt;We'd love to see you there. Seriously, the Empress is a great little theatre in Magna and I want to do what I can to help support it. If you have any questions, go to their website, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.empresstheatre.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;http://www.empresstheatre.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt; or ask me and I can probably find out for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End free publicity now... :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-3968526812371186397?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/3968526812371186397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=3968526812371186397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/3968526812371186397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/3968526812371186397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/10/wait-until-dark.html' title='Wait Until Dark'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-1075396957233866401</id><published>2008-10-19T14:36:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T14:50:13.739-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Adventures...Kind of</title><content type='html'>Today, Wil and I decided to go to the ward he lives in. We'd never been there before but Terrill (Wil's mom) talked to the bishop of that ward and he agreed to marry us. So, we went to sacrament meeting (because it was last and we had no idea where the other classes would be for sure). It was the primary program, which Wil and I think is always great fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the meeting was over, we tried to catch up with the bishop. Wil introduced himself, and the bishop asked if he was new to the ward. Wil said yes, and the bishop to us to follow him. He took us to the clerk's office and got a paper for Wil to fill out so that his records could get to this ward. Before we sat down so Wil could fill out it, I stopped Bishop Ebbert and let him know that we were the ones Wil's mom called about. He was so excited to meet us. We let him know that we'll be going to that ward from now on so he'll get a chance to speak with us more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once Wil had filled out the paper, we looked around for someone to give it to. Luckily, the membership clerk passed us right at that moment, noticed the paper in Wil's hand, introduced himself, and took the form. We turned around to find the bishop so we could give the pen back that we borrowed. Instead, we ran into the guy that lives next door (we have no idea what his name is...), shook hands with him, and spotted the bishop. We gave the pen back and as we were at the doors, we were stopped by the first counselor of the bishopric (we think). I was just stepping down to head to the car when he stopped us. I was surprised and whirled around so fast that my left heel (which was still inside and higher than my right) got caught on the metal part and I basically fell out the door. Luckily, I didn't actually fall. I just looked really stupid as I tried to catch my footing. He talked to us for a while and let us know that after church next week is a meeting for those who are new to the ward so that they can get to know who the leadership of the ward was. We promised we'd be there, shook hands, and were finally able to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we were finally able to leave after being stopped by so many people, I was thankful to get out of my new high heels (seriously painful).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-1075396957233866401?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/1075396957233866401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=1075396957233866401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1075396957233866401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1075396957233866401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/10/sunday-adventureskind-of.html' title='Sunday Adventures...Kind of'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-4042770771858151832</id><published>2008-10-13T13:48:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T14:25:36.425-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Insanity Everywhere I Turn</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Lately, I have been stretched so thin, and extremely stressed. Last week was probably the worst in a long time. I had a ton of work to do all week, but was only able to get a small amount done and get the rest semi-organized. Thursday, we had vistors from Atlanta in our office, so I spent the morning trying to make my desk look slightly more presentable. Friday, one of them was here again, the one I work with most closesly. I spent all morning and a large part of the afternoon with him trying to fix a problem. That turned out to be a huge waste of time. Oh well, it was still nice to get to work with him face to face rather than through e-mail or phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday evening, Wil and I went to a work party (with my boss, the vistors and a few other people in the office and their spouses). Wil ended up sitting across from Russ, my boss, which made me a little scared since I've never really been around him in a non-work setting. I sat across from Melinda, who is the wife of one of Russ' work friends as well as the recruiter who placed me in my job. The dinner went very well and, thanks in a large part to Melinda's friendly-ness and talkitiveness, Wil and I had a great time and were able to talk without feeling awkward. Melinda was talking to Wil and I about wedding plans, where we'll leave, and what Wil does. When we explained that he currently doesn't have a job and is just going to school on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, she offered him a job for a week. Wil met with Melinda on Friday and got it all worked out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was rough for me. Wil and I took Rain to the groomers, but I couldn't find her current vaccination records so we had to reschedule. We then took her to the vet because she has a fairly large lump on the side of her neck. It's been there for quite a while, didn't seem to bother her, and as far as we could tell, wasn't growing. Anyway, we decided to have it checked out. The vet and the vet tech both said that she seems to be in great shape. The vet told us that the lump could be three different things, first, a mass cell tumor (like a cancerous tumor in a human, but this is the dog version), second, a beign/fatty tumor that wasn't a big deal but could be removed if we wanted it to be, and third, it could be an infected cist, in which case they would either drain it, or it would eventually drain itself and be resolved. Of course, I was hoping for the 3rd option. It turns out that the lump is actually a mass cell tumor. While the vet went over what should be done, I listened and refused to look at Wil or Rain because I would have likely started crying. The vet left the room to get us an estimate of how much the surgery would cost to remove the tumor (while they did that, they'd look for others just to make sure she doesn't have on in her organs or anywhere else). Once she left, I broke down and cried on Wil's shoulder for a bit. He did what he could to comfort me and I was able to gain control before the vet tech came back in with the estimate and to walk us out so we could set up an appointment for the surgery. I've been trying hard not to think about it, but I'm scared to death that she'll have more tumors and they might not be able to remove them safely. I felt like kicking myself for not getting it checked sooner, but as Wil reminded, I didn't have the money to get her checked out then, let alone the money I'd need for the surgery. Anyway, her surgery is a week from Thursday. Wil has agreed to take her in while I go to work. I'll pick her up afterwards (scary thought).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wil started his job today. He works 8 hours a day today through Friday in the excavation department at my work, Sinclair Oil. It's a great job oppertunity, even if it is only for a week and mainly involves filing and other mind-numbing tasts. He and I met for lunch and he seemed like he was doing well and was pleased with himself. I am so excited for him. Even if he doesn't end up getting a permanant position here at Sinclair, Melinda can hook him up with other temp jobs so he can get a variety of different jobs under his belt and hopefully find something he enjoys doing so he can turn that into a career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have a massive pile (actually a few of them) of work that I still need to work on so I'll end this for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-4042770771858151832?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/4042770771858151832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=4042770771858151832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/4042770771858151832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/4042770771858151832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/10/insanity-everywhere-i-turn.html' title='Insanity Everywhere I Turn'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-1702358500473744311</id><published>2008-09-22T11:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T11:57:39.564-06:00</updated><title type='text'>8 Things-Tagged by Toni</title><content type='html'>8 Things I am Passionate About:&lt;br /&gt;1. My family&lt;br /&gt;2. My friends&lt;br /&gt;3. My dog :)&lt;br /&gt;4. Music&lt;br /&gt;5. Photography&lt;br /&gt;6. Life&lt;br /&gt;7. Books/Reading&lt;br /&gt;8. Cooking for others/doing stuff for other people just because&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 Words or Phrases I Say Often:&lt;br /&gt;1. Will do&lt;br /&gt;2. That's so funny&lt;br /&gt;3. I love you&lt;br /&gt;4. Seriously&lt;br /&gt;5. Tis true&lt;br /&gt;6. Sure&lt;br /&gt;7. What?&lt;br /&gt;8. Ok&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 Things I want to do before I Die:&lt;br /&gt;1. Get married (only 75 days!!)&lt;br /&gt;2. Have kids&lt;br /&gt;3. Go to Germany&lt;br /&gt;4. Have my own photography business (even if it's not big)&lt;br /&gt;5. See my grandkids&lt;br /&gt;6. Own a house without a mortgage (it'll happen one of these days..)&lt;br /&gt;7. Get completely out of debt&lt;br /&gt;8. Get a degree (only 7 more weeks...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 Things I Have Learned From my Past:&lt;br /&gt;1. Nothing worth having comes easily&lt;br /&gt;2. You miss the little things the most, but don't realize it until they are gone&lt;br /&gt;3. Even diamonds start as coal (the best things don't always start out so nice)&lt;br /&gt;4. Drinking maple syrup straight from the bottle is not a good idea&lt;br /&gt;5. Never say you don't like something you've never tried. Some of the scariest/worst looking things I've had tasted the best&lt;br /&gt;6. It's fun to act like a kid. When you get the chance to let loose, be silly, act like a kid, or dance like a crazy person, do it!&lt;br /&gt;7. Don't take anything too seriously&lt;br /&gt;8. Make time to spend with your loved ones. It can always be done no matter how busy your life is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 Places I Would Love to Go or See:&lt;br /&gt;1. Germany&lt;br /&gt;2. Australia&lt;br /&gt;3. Anything in Europe&lt;br /&gt;4. The Grand Canyon&lt;br /&gt;5. Disneyland/Disneyworld&lt;br /&gt;6. Hawaii&lt;br /&gt;7. Japan&lt;br /&gt;8. New Zealand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 Things I Currently Need or Want:&lt;br /&gt;1. Money&lt;br /&gt;2. To be out of debt (see #1)&lt;br /&gt;3. To be done with school (so close....)&lt;br /&gt;4. Gas (for my car..)&lt;br /&gt;5. Ice cream&lt;br /&gt;6. Time (to myself, to spend with Wil, to spend with Rain, and to get everything done that I have to do)&lt;br /&gt;7. Sleep&lt;br /&gt;8. The Office season 4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 people I tag:&lt;br /&gt;Jenn W, Dad, Steph, Angie/Nate, Sid,  Wil (I doubt he'll do it though..), and anyone else who feels like it&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-1702358500473744311?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/1702358500473744311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=1702358500473744311' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1702358500473744311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1702358500473744311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/09/8-things-tagged-by-toni.html' title='8 Things-Tagged by Toni'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-2042509735197126697</id><published>2008-09-16T15:36:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T07:39:58.383-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembering Smokey</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SNEH4A5LudI/AAAAAAAAAHY/yn63WuCJkJQ/s1600-h/DSC_0015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SNEH4A5LudI/AAAAAAAAAHY/yn63WuCJkJQ/s320/DSC_0015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246983699757251026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SNEH4ZrlvdI/AAAAAAAAAHo/xCBo87FduuE/s1600-h/DSCN0703.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SNEH4ZrlvdI/AAAAAAAAAHo/xCBo87FduuE/s320/DSCN0703.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246983706411122130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SNEH42R_rgI/AAAAAAAAAH4/A0tmYr2L9nw/s1600-h/DSCN0697.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SNEH42R_rgI/AAAAAAAAAH4/A0tmYr2L9nw/s320/DSCN0697.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246983714088398338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;I found out some incredibly sad news yesterday. My mom's dog, Smokey, who has been in our family since she was 3 months old and would have been with us for 15 years next month, had to be put to sleep today. Smokey was the sweetest dog ever and one of the prettiest I'd ever seen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;Mom picked up Smokey at from the Humane Society. She was looking at the puppies and found two that she really liked. One was Smokey, the other was a Sheltie. Smokey was one of 8 in a litter of collie/border collie puppies, but she was the only one mom thought was cute. Another lady was looking at both puppies as well and since she got there first, mom told her to choose first and she would take the other one. Of course, the woman chose the Sheltie and we got Smokey. Mom picked me up from school with Smokey in the car. I was so excited to see that we'd gotten another dog. Dad didn't really want a dog in the house at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;When the rest of the family got home, we all suggested different names for her. Jenn wanted something like Princess or Lady (can't remember for sure anymore), and the boys wanted something equally not right. I wanted her to be named Cocoa or something like that. None of us could agree on a name. Finally, mom said that the dog would be named by the one person who could care less about her, dad. Dad noticed that she had a black patch on her back and thought it looked kind of like thick smoke so he came up with the name Smokey.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;Smokey was a very well behaved dog, in most ways. She would play with us and would never bite down on our hands even when they were completely in her mouth. She loved it when we'd feed her human food (which we did often). Mom would usually share a bag of M&amp;amp;M's with Smokey. The funniest (and saddest in a way) thing was when she ate an entire chocolate sheet cake. There was only one row of cake that didn't have chunks taken out of it. If we'd gotten home a few minutes later, the whole thing probably would have been gone. We threw it all out anyway since she'd probably been drooling on the whole thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;Anyway, Smokey will definitely be missed. We all loved her. Even dad eventually put up with her and even began to love her too. I know that the person who will miss her the most is my mom. Smokey was always there for mom, especially when dad was out of town. It'll be hardest on mom. It's hard to walk into mom and dad's house and not see her sleeping lazily in the living room and waging her tail because she was insanely excited to see you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;I'll always love you Smokey.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SNEH4ntAjuI/AAAAAAAAAHw/wn9zzjIn76Q/s1600-h/DSCN0691.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SNEH4ntAjuI/AAAAAAAAAHw/wn9zzjIn76Q/s320/DSCN0691.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246983710175170274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SNEH4L_TRqI/AAAAAAAAAHg/Jnj9z-0H-BY/s1600-h/DSCN0102.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SNEH4L_TRqI/AAAAAAAAAHg/Jnj9z-0H-BY/s320/DSCN0102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246983702735701666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-2042509735197126697?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/2042509735197126697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=2042509735197126697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/2042509735197126697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/2042509735197126697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/09/remembering-smokey.html' title='Remembering Smokey'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SNEH4A5LudI/AAAAAAAAAHY/yn63WuCJkJQ/s72-c/DSC_0015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-8044415671160040580</id><published>2008-08-15T13:21:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T13:28:38.016-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Camping</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;So, last week was the 2nd annual family vacation for my family. We went camping near Preston, ID. It was a blast! All of us were there this year (parents, siblings, siblings families and Wil). We played games, listened to music (Jenn brought up speakers and we hooked iPods up to it), held our own Olympic games, and had an amazing showcase where we each had to perform two acts (one drawn in the morning and prepared throughout the day, one instant one). It was so much fun. It was hard to come back home and get back to work, school, and other responsibilities. I loved having Wil there and watching him interacting with my family. Everyone got along fine and everyone had fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;This is a slide show of some of the many pictures I took.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://widget-4d.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=1657324662890970957&amp;amp;site=widget-4d.slide.com" style="width:400px;height:320px" name="flashticker" align="middle"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="width:400px;text-align:left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=1657324662890970957&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-4d.slide.com/p1/1657324662890970957/bb_t043_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=1657324662890970957&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-4d.slide.com/p2/1657324662890970957/bb_t043_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=1657324662890970957&amp;amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-4d.slide.com/p4/1657324662890970957/bb_t043_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-8044415671160040580?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/8044415671160040580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=8044415671160040580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/8044415671160040580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/8044415671160040580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/08/camping.html' title='Camping'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-7461691432716379640</id><published>2008-07-25T14:44:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T15:18:00.433-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Well, as you can imagine, now that I am engaged, I have been working hard to figure out wedding details. I knew before hand that there would be a lot of things to think about and take care of, but it never really hit me until I had to start doing everything. Wil, being a typical guy, doesn't really care about any of it. He'll probably have an opinion on the food and that's about it. Even when I mention that, he says "Do what you want". I guess I should be grateful since I'm sure there are brides who wish their guy didn't have an opinion and they could do whatever they want. The problem I have with it is that there are times I REALLY want his input. I had no idea what I wanted to do at first (even now, I don't have much of an idea, just random thoughts), and I was hoping he might have some suggestions. No such luck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Luckily, my brothers were smart with at least one thing in their lives (j/k guys, you know I love you) and married amazing women. Jenn and Steph (Jason and Josh's wives) have been amazing and are helping me with everything. Mom is there to gush and, let's be honest, to pay for everything (by the way Mom &amp;amp; Dad, have I told you how much I love you guys lately?). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;I've been engaged for about 2 weeks now and I've already picked out the ceremony and reception area, decided on the wedding colors (black, dark purple, and a little silver), Wil picked his wedding band, Wil and I have our guest lists mostly decided on (just a few tweaks to make and addresses to get), our families have been informed and most of them have been given a "save the date" card, our engagement photos have been scheduled to be taken, I've decided on a caterer and she's already working on ideas for us, I've found a photographer, I've scheduled with 2 of my 3 bridesmaids to go look at dresses for them, and, the most exciting part, I've chosen a wedding dress. Wedding dress shopping was SO much fun. I had a hard time choosing between two dresses, but after standing in the one for a little while and seeing both dresses with a veil and tiara, the choice was clear. After taking a look at the pictures (Jenn took pictures so I could see the back of both), it was clear that I'd made the right choice. Mom said she knew I would get the dress I did as soon as I walked out in it. Jenn, Steph and I took a little longer to figure it out (it took me the longest of all four of us). Apparently, that was the easiest wedding dress shopping any of them had ever done. All of this is going MUCH more smoothly than I thought possible. It's amazing what you can get done when you have Jenn &amp;amp; Steph helping you (and the fact that I've been able to think of very little besides the wedding helps as well). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Wow, after all of that typing, I completely forget to mention the date of the wedding (I'm seriously scatter-brained). Anyway, there is still a whole lot to do, but I'm trying to concentrate on getting through work and school, and the preparations for the up-coming family camp out (it's going to be so much fun, and Wil gets to come with us this year!). Once the camp out is over, I'll get back to wedding planning, although I'll have to leave as much as I can (and as much as they are willing to do) to Jenn and Steph so I can get good grades and finish off my schooling before the wedding. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Everything is a little crazy at the moment, but I think I'm doing a good job of not going crazy. I haven't had a freak out lately, so that's good news. I'm really hoping that everything continues to run as smoothly as it has so far (wishful thinking, I know..). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;So, now I should try to get my mind off of the wedding and get some more work done before leaving for the weekend. I just want to say another HUGE thank you to my family. You are all so amazing and have been so supportive about this, and have totally accepted Wil as part of the family. I love you all!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;In the next post I'm hoping to put some pictures up of me and Wil together and our rings, but I don't know if that'll happen or not. We'll just have to see.  :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-7461691432716379640?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/7461691432716379640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=7461691432716379640' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/7461691432716379640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/7461691432716379640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/07/wedding-update.html' title='Wedding Update'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-1286115904306715017</id><published>2008-07-11T13:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T13:44:33.499-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My ring</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SHe3hJ41_4I/AAAAAAAAAHI/qR7YkPMmnWc/s1600-h/ring.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SHe3hJ41_4I/AAAAAAAAAHI/qR7YkPMmnWc/s320/ring.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221844073177284482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I realized I did not post any pictures when I wrote about my engagement. Part of that was because I forgot, the other part was because Wil was the one to take pictures and I hadn't gotten them from him yet. So, other than the pictures that are on my phone and that aren't very good, here are the only pictures we have of my ring. It's getting resized right now :( so I can't get more until next Wednesday. Anyway, I LOVE my ring and think it is so amazingly pretty. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SHe3hfIYuMI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/cAy8SMx4yno/s1600-h/ring1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SHe3hfIYuMI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/cAy8SMx4yno/s320/ring1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221844078879619266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-1286115904306715017?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/1286115904306715017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=1286115904306715017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1286115904306715017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1286115904306715017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-ring.html' title='My ring'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SHe3hJ41_4I/AAAAAAAAAHI/qR7YkPMmnWc/s72-c/ring.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-4970668351603579762</id><published>2008-07-11T07:25:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T08:54:56.467-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Engaged!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;For those of you who don't already know, which probably isn't very many of you at this point, I am now officially engaged. Wil proposed to me on 7/10/08 at sometime around 10 am. I know someone will ask, so I'll just tell the story. Since I am a writer, it'll be written as it would as an excerpt from a book (yes, I am aware that I am weird).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; It was a normal July day. I woke up feeling miserable, so instead of going to work, I called in sick. I went back to bed and woke up a few hours later feeling marginally better, although still not feeling well. I figured I should work on homework while I wasn't at work. My computer happened to be at Wil's house since that was where I'd done homework the previous night. I headed over to Wil's. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; When I got there, he was just waking up as well. We decided to go to IHOP to get some breakfast. Nate, and Peter's little brother, Andrew, went with us since they hadn't gone to sleep yet and were hungry. It was good, as it usually is. We got back and Nate and Andrew went back downstairs. Nate fell asleep in about 2 minutes. Andrew went back to playing Crack Down. I was getting ready to start on some homework, but then Wil asked if I would like to sit out in the sun for a little while with him. It was early in the day, so we wouldn't be sweating like pigs, and we don't normally do anything outside so I agreed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; We opted to sit on the porch swing, which is probably my favorite feature of his mom's house. We sat, and cuddled a little without really saying anything at first. Wil then began talking about how he can't seem to find the perfect moment to propose (we had picked out a ring last Saturday so I knew it was coming and it was driving me crazy). I was forced to remind him that I'd given him quite a few ideas. I even added a few new ones, like taking a walk down to the pond that is near his mom's house. He reminded me that there was a pond on the porch right in front of us (one of those little porch waterfall pools that is super cute) so we didn't have to go down to the gross pond full of ducks and geese.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;At this point, he pulled some change out of his pocket commenting that he hated change and handing it to me. I gladly took the change and put it in my pocket then snuggled up to him again. We sat for a few more minutes while he started to play with my ring finger on my left hand. He knows that bugs me since I really wanted the ring we had picked out last Saturday. I glared at him and said, "Stop being such a brat". He just smiled and replied, "But being a brat is what I do."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;We were still sitting on the porch swing. I was sitting on the left side of him and had my right arm around his neck and my right hand was resting on my legs, which we swung over his legs. His left arm was around my shoulders while his right hand played with my left hand (being the brat that he is). He kept playing with my left ring finger as we sat. He showed me his right hand which had a cheap ring on it of his that he wears often. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;"Is this what you want?" he asked me, even though I'm sure he knew the answer already. I told him, "No, that's not what I want because it would be WAY too big on me and wouldn't look good at all".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Then he said, "Is this the one you want?" and was looking at his left hand. I looked too and saw that he was holding the ring we had picked out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I was excited now and said, "Yes!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;He grinned and said, "You can only have it if you plan to wear it forever." I replied, with an ear to ear grin, "It's so shiny that I think I can handle that." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;He placed it on my finger and held my hand, and said, while looking into my eyes, "I forgot to mention. I come with the ring." I grinned again and said, "It's pretty enough that I think I can handle having to keep you too."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;"You'll have to promise to keep both forever," he told me (both meaning him and the ring). I gave my promise and we hugged and he kissed me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;We sat there for a while longer just looking at the ring and swinging on the swing. A few minutes later, Andrew came out to inform us that he'd left his phone at IHOP. So, Wil and I went with Andrew to go get his phone (the car he and Peter use was broken so Wil needed to drive him and I didn't want to be away from him at that moment). After that, the day progressed with nothing really interesting happening. Neither of us were feeling all that well so we spent most of the day napping or just doing very little. It's kind of funny that we became engaged on a day when neither of us was feeling all that great. That's ok though. It was still a good day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-4970668351603579762?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/4970668351603579762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=4970668351603579762' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/4970668351603579762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/4970668351603579762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/07/engaged.html' title='Engaged!'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-9200105755024044074</id><published>2008-06-25T13:57:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T13:59:38.553-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Check out my Slide Show!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Pictures from my photo shoot with Angelique and Matt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://widget-eb.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=1657324662889746411&amp;amp;site=widget-eb.slide.com" style="width: 400px; height: 320px;" name="flashticker" align="middle"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="width: 400px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=fl&amp;amp;id=1657324662889746411&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-eb.slide.com/p1/1657324662889746411/bb_t024_v000_s0fl_f00/images/xslide1.gif" ismap="ismap" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=fl&amp;amp;id=1657324662889746411&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-eb.slide.com/p2/1657324662889746411/bb_t024_v000_s0fl_f00/images/xslide2.gif" ismap="ismap" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=fl&amp;amp;id=1657324662889746411&amp;amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-eb.slide.com/p4/1657324662889746411/bb_t024_v000_s0fl_f00/images/xslide42.gif" ismap="ismap" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-9200105755024044074?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/9200105755024044074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=9200105755024044074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/9200105755024044074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/9200105755024044074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/06/check-out-my-slide-show.html' title='Check out my Slide Show!'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-593045453011354002</id><published>2008-06-21T09:48:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T10:08:59.676-06:00</updated><title type='text'>GNI &amp; New Hair</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;I haven't updated my blog lately, so I figured I should while I have a little time today (life's been a little insane lately). On Wednesday, I got my hair cut. I mostly wanted to go in for a trim. My hair has gotten pretty long, but it looks great so I didn't want to get rid of a lot of length. My awesome stylist, McKenzie, decided that rather than having the few soft layers, she'd give me more layers, and rather than straightening it, like I usually do, she decided to curl it. Well, it turned out AWESOME! Everyone who's seen it loves it, especially me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Last night was my family's Girls' Night In, where me, my mom, my sister, and my brothers' wives all get together for a sleep over. We usually have some sort of craft, game, or activity, but sometimes we just sit and talk. Last night, we designed our shirts for this year's family camp out. We decided that we'd all have blue shirts (in whatever shade of blue we wanted). We came up with a logo, and tag line, as well as nicknames for each of us in the family. We were all feeling very creative last night and came up with some great stuff. Here's the names we came up with:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Dad -- "The Reel Thing" -- Dad is our resident fisherman extraordinaire so this was fitting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom -- "The Queen of ?" -- Mom is always asking questions and trying to understand all the silly things we joke and talk about. She has a wonderfully innocent and inquisitive spirit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenn (mom of 3) -- "Mistress of Mayhem" -- Jenn balances single-motherhood of 3 crazy kids and a full time job. She's amazing and this nick-name perfectly describes her life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annee (oldest daughter of Jenn) -- "Reader Skeeter" -- Annee is a dedicated reader who is currently obsessed with the Twilight Series. She is also a big fan of Harry Potter so this was a great blend of her passions to represent her (she's so much like me, it's almost scary).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyler (son of Jenn) -- "Lord of the Games" -- Tyler is our mega-gamer. He's got so much game he could outplay most anyone! He's quick and smart and LOVES to win! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dessa (youngest daughter of Jenn) -- "Lil' Wiggles &amp;amp; Giggles" -- Dessa is a BRIGHT &amp;amp; ENERGETIC spirit and LOVES to laugh! We have an adorable clip of her at campout last year doing this cute little wiggle dance -- hence the name. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenn &amp;amp; Jason -- "Miss B. Haven" &amp;amp; "Mr. Never Shaven" -- Jenn is the jokester, unruly, teasing, outrageous one in the family so her name was an obvious choice. Jason's had a nice rhyme and is VERY true -- the man hates to shave and grows facial hair faster than a Yetti according to his wife.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wendee &amp;amp; Aaron -- "Wendi-lay-hee-hoo" &amp;amp; "Fix-It Guru" -- Wendee has such a fun name to play on so we had alot of fun with hers. Aaron and Wendee recently purchased a home and Aaron has become quite the Fix-It man so we felt this was fitting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matthew (Aaron &amp;amp; Wendee's son) -- "Little Boy Vrooom" -- Matthew is just under 3 years old and he LOVES all things that GO! Firetrucks and characters from the movie Cars are among his favorites.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alyssa (Aaron &amp;amp; Wendee's daughter) -- "Princess Pea" -- Alyssa is the baby in our family; born just this last February. Her family t-shirt is actually a 'onesie' and it turned out super cute. When Alyssa is put down to sleep, she can always sense the slightest discomfort and has plenty to 'say' about it. So her name is a play on that story of the Princess and the Pea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh &amp;amp; Stephanie -- "Sir Stinks-a-lot" &amp;amp; "Lady of the DANCE!" -- Josh's name is fairly self-explanatory. Sorry Josh, your wife picked it. We're assuming she has good reason. Stephanie is ALWAYS dancing about so her name was a no-brainer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jess (me) -- "Shutterbug" -- I am constantly behind the camera snapping pictures. In fact, I liked the shirts we made so much that I put it on this morning and took some pictures of myself in my new shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pictures of my new shirt and my new hair.  Keep in mind I did these after a late night up with the girls, so I don't look my best.  Jenn also posted stuff about our GNI on her blog, so you can check out more by clicking on the "Jenn's Blog" link on the right (yes, I did just copy and slightly edit what she put for our nicknames. I really am that lazy today :P)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0mpkj_r_I/AAAAAAAAAGY/KjKwbyITY-M/s1600-h/DSC_0003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0mpkj_r_I/AAAAAAAAAGY/KjKwbyITY-M/s320/DSC_0003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214366439196045298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0mpuJnwXI/AAAAAAAAAGg/yN26rXE5NC0/s1600-h/DSC_0014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0mpuJnwXI/AAAAAAAAAGg/yN26rXE5NC0/s320/DSC_0014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214366441769779570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0mpwmILrI/AAAAAAAAAGo/eNbphWYbOTw/s1600-h/DSC_0015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0mpwmILrI/AAAAAAAAAGo/eNbphWYbOTw/s320/DSC_0015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214366442426216114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0lGdF8_fI/AAAAAAAAAFw/9EpCK4Qbxt8/s1600-h/DSC_0002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0lGdF8_fI/AAAAAAAAAFw/9EpCK4Qbxt8/s320/DSC_0002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214364736383942130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0lGnRaV4I/AAAAAAAAAF4/CQg5i8f7lRU/s1600-h/logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0lGnRaV4I/AAAAAAAAAF4/CQg5i8f7lRU/s320/logo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214364739116357506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0lGldDXlI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ScCxrrXwGw8/s1600-h/DSC_0007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0lGldDXlI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ScCxrrXwGw8/s320/DSC_0007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214364738628312658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0lG-jNm2I/AAAAAAAAAGI/0eDAEPNT_dY/s1600-h/tag+line.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0lG-jNm2I/AAAAAAAAAGI/0eDAEPNT_dY/s320/tag+line.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214364745365035874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0lG4RuAqI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/jxW7JYvZkt4/s1600-h/DSC_0013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0lG4RuAqI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/jxW7JYvZkt4/s320/DSC_0013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214364743681049250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-593045453011354002?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/593045453011354002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=593045453011354002' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/593045453011354002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/593045453011354002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/06/gni-new-hair.html' title='GNI &amp; New Hair'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SF0mpkj_r_I/AAAAAAAAAGY/KjKwbyITY-M/s72-c/DSC_0003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-5628350751995244202</id><published>2008-06-02T10:05:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T11:16:32.572-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;I just finished up another session of school (wahoo!). Now I have a week off. After that, I only have two sessions left (5 weeks each, two classes each) and then I will have my degree! 11 weeks and counting until I am done with school. I can't wait! I'm so excited.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Wil is in Virginia visiting his brother's family. I'm sad because I miss him, but it's good for him to spend time with Mike, Jenny and Gabe. While he's in Virginia, I'm trying to get things figured out at my house. I've barely had time to sleep and eat lately, let alone clean, so my house is a disaster area. My goal for this week is to clean it up. It will probably take me all week to get it to a point where it's decent again. I can barely stand to be there as it is now. I also plan to get into a habit of working out every day. I'm going to do exercise videos and/or walk Rain daily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Although I was without Wil this weekend, I still managed to have a lot of fun. Friday night was the cast party for Tempest at Danny's. That was a lot of fun. I mixed up the chili with cheese in it (turned out great), while Linda made cookies and we both tried to keep Danny's puppy away from the food. We didn't really do much, but it was so much fun. There were usually 3-4 conversations going at all times. I met two new people. Linda invited her friends Phil and Misha (I think that was his name...). They were a lot of fun too. I, of course, took way too many pictures. The slide show below are the pictures. At the beginning, I didn't realize that I was on manual, but the pictures turned out rather well still.  then I got out my (or rather Wil's) external flash. Because I was bouncing the light off the ceilings and walls instead of into peoples faces, I had the flash facing all sorts of directions. I ended up flashing the light right at Mike and feeling horrible about it, and then a few minutes later did the exact same thing to Phil. Poor guys. Towards the end, Todd and Danny stole my camera and took pictures. It was loads of fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;On Saturday night, I helped out at the ticket counter at the Empress for their play, The Foreigner. I stayed to watch the show, and it was great! I had a hard time hearing the actors at times, but got the gist of it and loved it. After the play, I stayed for Work in Progress as well (the improv team). They were awesome! Mumbling Murder Mysteries has always been one of my favorite games, but that was the best one I'd ever seen. I was dying of laughter by the end of it. It was great fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="visibility: visible; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://widget-ac.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" style="width: 426px; height: 320px;" height="320" width="426"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://widget-ac.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="quality" value="high"&gt;&lt;param name="scale" value="noscale"&gt;&lt;param name="salign" value="l"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="cy=ms&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=1657324662888205484&amp;amp;site=widget-ac.slide.com"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=1657324662888205484&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-ac.slide.com/p1/1657324662888205484/ms_t016_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" ismap="ismap" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=1657324662888205484&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-ac.slide.com/p2/1657324662888205484/ms_t016_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" ismap="ismap" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=1657324662888205484&amp;amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-ac.slide.com/p4/1657324662888205484/ms_t016_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" ismap="ismap" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-5628350751995244202?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/5628350751995244202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=5628350751995244202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/5628350751995244202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/5628350751995244202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/06/life.html' title='Life'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-4227498831439934241</id><published>2008-05-27T10:53:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T12:43:07.612-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Breathing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Tempest is over. It's done. I can breathe and sleep again! Phew!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Tempest was an amazing experience and I has so much fun, despite the lack of sleep, and the stress. The others in the cast are amazing people and I'm so glad I met them. I won't go into detail right now about all that happened at CONduit, because it's a long story and I don't have time at the moment, but it was definitely and adventure. I'm not sure if it was nerves, lack of sleep, the massive amounts of caffeine I drank in 48 hours, or a combination of all three, but I was very giggly, talkative, and more than slightly insane on Thursday and Friday. I was so nervous on Friday. After we finished performing, I was shaking like crazy. I couldn't even hang up the costumes and put them back on the rack, until I'd calmed down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Below are some pictures that were taken on Thursday and Friday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;&lt;p style="visibility:visible;"&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://widget-42.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" height="320" width="426" style="width:426px;height:320px"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://widget-42.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf"&gt;&lt;param name="quality" value="high"&gt;&lt;param name="scale" value="noscale"&gt;&lt;param name="salign" value="l"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="cy=ms&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=1657324662887408706&amp;amp;site=widget-42.slide.com"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=1657324662887408706&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-42.slide.com/p1/1657324662887408706/ms_t000_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=1657324662887408706&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-42.slide.com/p2/1657324662887408706/ms_t000_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-4227498831439934241?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/4227498831439934241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=4227498831439934241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/4227498831439934241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/4227498831439934241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/05/breathing.html' title='Breathing'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-1802045943209860184</id><published>2008-05-22T09:47:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T10:21:14.134-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tempest</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Well, it's the final countdown for Tempest. We are performing as part of our dress rehearsal tonight at the Radisson Hotel. I finally remembered to bring my camera last night to play practice. I got some fun shots, although I wish I'd had my external flash. Oh well. I'll have to see if I can get more pictures tonight. I've posted some below.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;A few of us, me included, were not in full costume last night (I already knew my costume worked and was busy running around getting the set and cast ready for our run through since it was almost 11 pm). I found some horrible red lipstick that I'll be using. I have it on in the pictures. Bear in mind that these pictures were taken between 9:30ish until midnight. I had worked all day before going to the rehearsal, and have had very little sleep in the last two weeks, so I was on a caffeine high.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;I'm really hoping that I can stay awake at work today and tomorrow as well as being able to stay awake for the performances tonight and tomorrow night. We have most of the set and costume stuff done. There's just a few final touches that need to be taken care of. It should be good though. I'm excited!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;I realized last night something that I've noticed before, but very rarely think about. I thrive when I'm under pressure. Last night, I knew that we had to get as much done as possible. Our cast has a tendency to sit and talk rather than working. I've contributed to that problem as well. Anyway, it's crunch time and I was feeling that last night. I wanted to make sure we had as much done as we could. I was getting a little annoyed because I felt like I had to tell people that stuff needed to be done and make them do it, rather than them knowing we had a lot of work to do. All in all, I have to say that last night was probably our most productive time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SDWchNTrrlI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/bMfmR_GDJuc/s1600-h/DSC_0004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SDWchNTrrlI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/bMfmR_GDJuc/s320/DSC_0004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203237038818307666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Todd's arm after applying his paint. We wanted to make sure it worked and that my lipstick would show up on the blue paint without turning my lips blue. It worked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SDWchdTrrmI/AAAAAAAAAEY/WErnezzK_zs/s1600-h/DSC_0171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SDWchdTrrmI/AAAAAAAAAEY/WErnezzK_zs/s320/DSC_0171.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203237043113274978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;The drunks. I love this scene!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SDWch9TrrnI/AAAAAAAAAEg/3BOWt8XP0BQ/s1600-h/DSC_0040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SDWch9TrrnI/AAAAAAAAAEg/3BOWt8XP0BQ/s320/DSC_0040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203237051703209586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Tina's mask and head piece. Meow!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SDWciNTrroI/AAAAAAAAAEo/__rgTFjoR-I/s1600-h/DSC_0047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SDWciNTrroI/AAAAAAAAAEo/__rgTFjoR-I/s320/DSC_0047.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203237055998176898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Me and Todd goofing off before we started the run through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SDWci9TrrpI/AAAAAAAAAEw/0U_H3JYzwwY/s1600-h/DSC_0097.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SDWci9TrrpI/AAAAAAAAAEw/0U_H3JYzwwY/s320/DSC_0097.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203237068883078802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;During our scene. I have to tell you, I almost died laughing when I saw Todd's costume. I'm over it now and can almost get through a full scene with him without laughing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-1802045943209860184?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/1802045943209860184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=1802045943209860184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1802045943209860184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1802045943209860184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/05/tempest.html' title='Tempest'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/SDWchNTrrlI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/bMfmR_GDJuc/s72-c/DSC_0004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-655949993472728788</id><published>2008-05-16T09:39:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T10:30:19.138-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Costumes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;Last night at play practice, we discussed costumes for the play. They are going to be amazing. We are all going to look great! Mine will be awesome! I'd want to wear it all the time. I am getting really excited about the play now. We only have a week left. We're performing on Thursday at the Empress, and on Friday at the CONduit. I'm feeling pretty good about most of my scenes, although there is one that I'm still worried about. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;Hopefully my friends will help me out with that scene tonight. We're going to go see the new Narnia movie. I'm excited. I've been so stressed with work, school, and the play that I haven't really had time to just have fun with my friends. I'll probably be exhausted tomorrow (since I'm not likely to get to sleep very early tonight, and have to wake up early tomorrow). It should be ok though. I'm good at forcing myself to stay awake and get through what has to be done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;Anyway, life is going to be hectic until next weekend. I just figured I should give everyone an update on my life. If you see me, don't be surprised if I'm totally scatterbrained and panicky.  :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-655949993472728788?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/655949993472728788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=655949993472728788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/655949993472728788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/655949993472728788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/05/costumes.html' title='Costumes'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-2561442620913112699</id><published>2008-05-07T07:49:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T08:01:45.042-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;I have been Tagged! How to play this game of tag: Post these rules on your blog. List 3 joys, 3 fears, 3 goals, 3 current obsessions/collections, 3 random surprising facts about yourself. Tag 5 people at the end of your post by leaving their names. Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;3 joys:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;1. My friends. They crack me up and remind me that it's ok to relax every now and then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;2. My dog. She keeps me entertained, and loves me even when I'm in a bad mood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;3. My family. I don't know where I'd be without them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;3 fears:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;1. That somehow, I'd lose all my friends and family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;2. Failing-in just about anything...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;3. Not having control-I'm kind of a control freak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;3 goals:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;1. To get in shape&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;2. To be debt free&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;3. To become the person I want to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;3 current obsessions/collections:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;1. Audio books. I can't stop listening to them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;2. The Empress Theatre. I don't really have a lot of time to spend there, but I somehow find time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;3. Mario Kart Wii. That game is so much fun, and I wish I had more time to play it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;3 random, surprising facts about me:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;1. I play with my hair when stressed or nervous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;2. I hate cheesecake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;3. I passed out in class my sophomore year of high school, which caused me to fall off the desk I was sitting on and I ended up hitting my head a few times on the way to the floor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;I have tagged: Sid, Becca, and Toni. I don't know a lot of people with blogs and I don't want to tag anyone else :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-2561442620913112699?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/2561442620913112699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=2561442620913112699' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/2561442620913112699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/2561442620913112699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/05/tagged.html' title='Tagged'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-1389773527958786037</id><published>2008-05-01T10:16:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T11:32:21.481-06:00</updated><title type='text'>May, Snow, and Possibilities</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;It's the first of May and I am psyched! May is my favorite month. I've never really pin pointed why, but it's usually a good month for me. Last May, I got this fabulous job that I love. May is usually when most flowers are blooming, and it's when it truly feels like spring, which is my favorite season. The temperature is usually perfect. I think this May might be one of the best yet though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Spring doesn't seem to be on the weather's mind today sadly. It's been snowing off and on all morning. I had to put my winter coat on again this morning. The flakes that are coming down are gorgeous, but I'm sick of the snow, and was looking forward to spring. I love the flowers, the quick rain showers that leave the air smelling fabulous, and the near perfect temperatures that allow you to wear a jacket. I love jacket weather. It's my favorite. That's probably because I have so many really cute jackets and love to switch them up. Hopefully, it'll stop snowing and spring will come back again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;In about 2 weeks, I will have been at my job for a year. It's amazing what has happened since I started here. I will most likely be getting a raise once I hit my year mark, so that's super exciting. I love what I do, and the people I work with are awesome. It can sometimes be stressful, and there are times when people I have to deal with are frustrating, but overall, it's a great job.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Josh, the sibling closest to my age, is coming home today after being in Iraq for almost a year! That is probably the best thing this May can offer me. I've missed him like crazy and am glad that I don't have to be constantly anxious about him anymore. I'm nervous and excited to see him again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I think I've discovered another reason for loving spring. Spring signifies a new beginning, a chance to start over, or renew yourself. Spring is usually when everyone gets rid of all the old junk they don't want to hold onto anymore. Lately, I've been restless and agitated almost daily. I haven't really liked where my life has been going lately and have been working on changing it all. It's been a slow process and I'm having a hard time breaking out of old habits. I have a feeling though, that now that it's May, I will finally be able to dejunk my life and become who I want to be. It's a time for new beginnings, and I plan to take advantage of it and am looking forward to the possibilities this month will bring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-1389773527958786037?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/1389773527958786037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=1389773527958786037' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1389773527958786037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1389773527958786037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/05/may-snow-and-possibilities.html' title='May, Snow, and Possibilities'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-6235146931152993108</id><published>2008-04-22T08:44:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T09:09:55.341-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tempest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Star Trek'/><title type='text'>Rehearsals and Lines</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;The first meeting was held on Saturday for the Star Trek Tempest play that I am doing. Basically, we went over what we will be doing and decided that weekends are when my "group" will be practicing. Most of us in this play are in different groups that rarely, if ever, meet. This makes all of our widely different schedules much easier to overcome since we don't have to meet as an entire cast until the week of the performance. My group consists of very few people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday, I had my first practice. We haven't blocked anything, but we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;discussed&lt;/span&gt; what we will be doing, read through our lines, and made cuts and changes as were needed. It was just me, the director, and the actor who is playing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Prospero&lt;/span&gt; (my dad in the play). The three of us got through most, if not all, of the 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; scene (which is my first scene). We cut a lot, and changed things so that they fit with the Star Trek vibe we are going for. We laughed and joked around a lot, and it gave me a much better understanding of my character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so excited about this play and am looking forward to the next rehearsal. I've learned that our director likes use to concentrate on figuring out our character. Rather than her telling us what to do or how to act, we should rely on what our character would do or say. This should also help with us learning our lines, and if we forget our lines, we'll know what our character would say, so we can improvise if needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, now I'm just working on getting my lines, and my character down. I'm going to try to get a recording of my lines, and the lines said before and after my lines, so I can listen to it while driving. I need to find someone who is willing to read the other lines for me though. I'll have to see who I can convince to do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-6235146931152993108?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/6235146931152993108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=6235146931152993108' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/6235146931152993108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/6235146931152993108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/04/rehearsals-and-lines.html' title='Rehearsals and Lines'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-8364064577894972025</id><published>2008-04-17T08:32:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T11:06:27.836-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Shakespeare and Star Trek</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;So, I've decided to do something that's a little odd for me. I am going to be part of a Shakespeare play, called Tempest, that is going to be performing at the Conduit Sci Fi Convention in Salt Lake on May 23rd at 8 pm. We are all going to be Star Trek aliens though, rather than normal humans. From what I've been told, and I'll find out more later, we will also perform the play the night before the convention at the Empress Theatre. I will be playing Miranda, a 15 year old Vulcan. My first practice is on Saturday, and I'll probably find out more at that time. I'm sure that if nothing else, it'll be fun and a good way to meet new people (something I don't do often).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really excited. This is something that I have wanted to do for a while (be in a play again). I wanted to try out for one of the muscials that will be playing at the Empress before too long, but because of school, and work, I can't dedicate enough time to be in a musical. After school is over in August though, I do intend to try out for some of the plays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post again when I have more information. If you see me often, don't be surprised if I have my script in my hand and try to talk you into helping me with my lines. Wish me luck!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-8364064577894972025?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/8364064577894972025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=8364064577894972025' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/8364064577894972025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/8364064577894972025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/04/shakespeare-and-star-trek.html' title='Shakespeare and Star Trek'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-2219358305832896800</id><published>2008-04-03T13:15:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T12:14:36.095-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally, A Car!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;As if you didn't already know from the title, I finally got a car! It's a light blue, 2 door 2008 Ford Focus. It is SO cute and I love it. With help from Wil and Sid, I've decided to name it Bloo, or &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;Blooregard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;. The name comes from one of the characters on Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends (in case you care).  I was lucky to be able to get my Focus for a really really good deal. My work has a partner program with Ford, and the dealership was really great to work with too. Even though it's a 2 door, the ba&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;ckseat is still really&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt; roomy. I used to hate the way Focus' looked, but the new design Ford has for them is inc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;redibly cute, and Wil says the car is totally a Jess car. Anyway, I'm super excited. Check out the pictures!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R_Vc1XbkLoI/AAAAAAAAACw/-GehD0jfvk4/s1600-h/DSC_0034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R_Vc1XbkLoI/AAAAAAAAACw/-GehD0jfvk4/s320/DSC_0034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185152617879449218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R_VcMXbkLlI/AAAAAAAAACY/jZ5w0gUNeIg/s1600-h/DSC_0032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R_VcMXbkLlI/AAAAAAAAACY/jZ5w0gUNeIg/s320/DSC_0032.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185151913504812626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R_VdqHbkLqI/AAAAAAAAADA/cEjKTh0y8EU/s1600-h/DSC_0036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R_VdqHbkLqI/AAAAAAAAADA/cEjKTh0y8EU/s320/DSC_0036.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185153524117548706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R_VdPHbkLpI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tLIUX8HHkJQ/s1600-h/DSC_0035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R_VdPHbkLpI/AAAAAAAAAC4/tLIUX8HHkJQ/s320/DSC_0035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185153060261080722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R_VcXnbkLmI/AAAAAAAAACg/WP1v83a219Y/s1600-h/DSC_0033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R_VcXnbkLmI/AAAAAAAAACg/WP1v83a219Y/s320/DSC_0033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185152106778340962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-2219358305832896800?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/2219358305832896800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=2219358305832896800' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/2219358305832896800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/2219358305832896800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/04/finally-car.html' title='Finally, A Car!'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R_Vc1XbkLoI/AAAAAAAAACw/-GehD0jfvk4/s72-c/DSC_0034.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-1749619007982605292</id><published>2008-03-24T15:14:00.016-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T15:39:42.875-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zoo'/><title type='text'>3 Boys &amp; The Zoo</title><content type='html'>This weekend, I was able to convince Wil, Sid, and Nate to get out of the basement and into the sunlight. I told them that I wanted to go to the zoo. I haven't been there in so long, so I brought it up with them, and they agreed to go with me. The weather was amazing. It was warm enough to not need a coat and was only slightly cold when the occasional breeze went by. Being outside totally energized me, but it sucked the life out of Nate. It was so much fun though. I was the navigator so I got to hold the map. The boys pretended that they were allergic to the sun. Sid and Nate also tried to throw me through a waterfall into a pool of water in the inclosure that housed the white croc. Of course, I was most interested in seeing the wolves, and of course, they were hiding from me. When we went by their cage (on the top path), we couldn't see them. When we went by the cage next to the small animals enclosure, Wil saw one for a second up by the top path (of course) but as soon as I looked up, it had moved out of sight again. I got some pretty cool pictures though. I also got a cool new "staff" AKA walking stick with a tiger head on it. I love it!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181424152474824178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gd0HbkLfI/AAAAAAAAABo/l-AAT_66lkI/s320/IMGP0298.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me reading the map&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gdwnbkLeI/AAAAAAAAABg/ajYjm0DBBBI/s1600-h/IMGP0299.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181424092345282018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gdwnbkLeI/AAAAAAAAABg/ajYjm0DBBBI/s320/IMGP0299.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The boys hiding from the sun&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gdrXbkLdI/AAAAAAAAABY/42_DGKZ1Fic/s1600-h/IMGP0330.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181424002150968786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gdrXbkLdI/AAAAAAAAABY/42_DGKZ1Fic/s320/IMGP0330.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gdg3bkLcI/AAAAAAAAABQ/DZUfduadpnI/s1600-h/IMGP0372.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181423821762342338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gdg3bkLcI/AAAAAAAAABQ/DZUfduadpnI/s320/IMGP0372.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me with my "staff"&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gdaHbkLbI/AAAAAAAAABI/XetsyIzC7fA/s1600-h/IMGP0359.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181423705798225330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 194px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 278px" height="327" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gdaHbkLbI/AAAAAAAAABI/XetsyIzC7fA/s320/IMGP0359.jpg" width="259" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and the baby giraffe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gdSnbkLaI/AAAAAAAAABA/09IiBuaih8I/s1600-h/IMGP0316.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181423576949206434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gdSnbkLaI/AAAAAAAAABA/09IiBuaih8I/s320/IMGP0316.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys laughing at a joke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gdLHbkLZI/AAAAAAAAAA4/hp2d3d6EcXM/s1600-h/IMGP0312.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181423448100187538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gdLHbkLZI/AAAAAAAAAA4/hp2d3d6EcXM/s320/IMGP0312.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;white croc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gdEnbkLYI/AAAAAAAAAAw/sJyL7_OOhIM/s1600-h/IMGP0319.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181423336431037826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gdEnbkLYI/AAAAAAAAAAw/sJyL7_OOhIM/s320/IMGP0319.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;feeding time&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gc9nbkLXI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ne4SMlhvqt4/s1600-h/IMGP0352.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181423216171953522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gc9nbkLXI/AAAAAAAAAAo/ne4SMlhvqt4/s320/IMGP0352.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gc2HbkLWI/AAAAAAAAAAg/LaahrHshCbI/s1600-h/IMGP0309.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181423087322934626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gc2HbkLWI/AAAAAAAAAAg/LaahrHshCbI/s320/IMGP0309.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me trying to stay out of the water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gcr3bkLVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/BLWa2YXmoF4/s1600-h/IMGP0308.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181422911229275474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gcr3bkLVI/AAAAAAAAAAY/BLWa2YXmoF4/s320/IMGP0308.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boys! I love these guys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gcjHbkLUI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/CEUpJG0SzLc/s1600-h/IMGP0298.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-1749619007982605292?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/1749619007982605292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=1749619007982605292' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1749619007982605292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/1749619007982605292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/03/3-boys-zoo.html' title='3 Boys &amp; The Zoo'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qrfWKvzHt1M/R-gd0HbkLfI/AAAAAAAAABo/l-AAT_66lkI/s72-c/IMGP0298.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-2682144920415271106</id><published>2008-03-24T12:25:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T12:27:52.322-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stories Moved</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;I'm going to be posting my stories on a separate blog. That way, if you only want to read updates about me, you can come here and if you only want to read my stories, you can go there. I want to keep things simple and as unconfusing as possible. :) There is a link on the right to my story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-2682144920415271106?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/2682144920415271106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=2682144920415271106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/2682144920415271106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/2682144920415271106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/03/stories-moved.html' title='Stories Moved'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-6763607881343723609</id><published>2008-03-21T12:37:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T14:11:50.382-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Story Without a Name Pt1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Alright. I have started writing the stories I promised before. I'll post what I have now even though it isn't much and isn't a full story by itself. It's mostly background. Let me know what you think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;It was a clear, sunny, spring day in Salt Lake City, Utah. It had been a very cold winter and today was the first day in a very long time that the weather had been warm and sunny. Jess looked longingly out the second floor window of her downtown office building. She wished she could spend the day outside. Instead, she was stuck at work for another four hours.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;Jess, a twenty-two year old girl with copper red hair that hung in straight layers to her shoulder blades, wished that time would speed up. It had been a long, hard week at work and there was no sign that her work load would be decreasing anytime soon. Jess worked as an administrative assistant and was responsible for a wide variety of tasks. Lately, her inbox was overflowing with a wide variety of projects that needed to be done. All of them required a large amount of time and all of them needed to be completed as quickly as possible.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;Time continued to drag on as Jess worked feverishly, attempting to get her work load to a more manageable level. Finally, she glanced at the clock and smiled wearily. It was time to head home. Jess quickly shoved her cell phone into her pocket, shut down her computer, and grabbed her big, black backpack as she headed outside into the sunlight. As Jess walked to her bus stop, she called her best friend, Wil, to see how his day at school had gone.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;“Hey Wil,” Jess said into her phone as Wil’s familiar voice answered her call. “How was school? Learn anything interesting?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;“Not really,” Wil replied. “It was just another boring day. Sid and I are just about to head out to get some food. We’re having trouble deciding what we want to eat, though.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;Jess grinned. After five years of being friends with Wil, she was used to his unexplainable inability to decide where to eat. Most of the time, she, Wil and their friends would sit for a half an hour, or sometimes longer, just trying to decide where to get food. After offering several suggestions on where they could eat, Jess said goodbye and hung up the phone.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;Jess enjoyed the remainder of the walk to where she would get on the bus that would take her home. It really was a fabulous day. It was finally warm enough that she could have removed the dark green winter coat she wore, but she didn’t want to carry it. Once on the bus, she waved at her dad, who also rode that bus home from work. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;The bus ride went smoothly and uneventfully. Once at home, Jess let her dog, a border collie named Rain, outside and fed her. Once Rain was taken care of and chewing happily on what was left of the huge bone Jess had gotten her earlier in the week, Jess changed out of her work clothes, and into a pair of striped pajama pants and a black tank top. Once she was more comfortably dressed, she scrounged in the fridge for dinner. She settled on bean and cheese burritos. As her oven preheated, she went into her office to check her e-mail. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;She scanned through the e-mails quickly. Most of them were junk that she deleted without opening. Then she saw something that made her excited, and slightly nervous. There was an e-mail from her older brother, John, who was currently serving as a Marine in the Iraq war. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;Jess was the youngest of five children. Her oldest sibling was her sister Jane. Jane was in her early thirties and was divorced with three children, Abby, Tim, and Denise. Jane and Jess had never been close, due partly to the 8 year age gap between them and also their very different personalities. They did, however, get along and enjoyed each other’s company now that they were older. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;Jared, the second oldest, had always been quiet and shy. In his teenage years, he mostly stayed in his room playing video games when he wasn’t at school or work. He had loosened up and relaxed considerably after getting married to Joann. Jo was a burst of fun and energy. When she was around, she would have everyone laughing and joking within a few minutes. It took a while for Jess’ family to adjust to this since most of them were more on the shy and serious side. Jess loved it since she had always been the one in her family who was more relaxed and less serious. It was nice that the rest of her family could loosen up, if only a little, now. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;Next in line was Adam, with his wife Rebecca and their two children, two-year-old Michael, and two month old Lisa. Jess had always considered Adam to be the nerdiest of her three brothers even though all three were incredibly nerdy in their own way. She supposed that she felt this way because Adam looked the part of the typical nerd. He wore glasses and was usually seen in slacks and a collared shirt with pens in the pocket. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;After Adam, came John, Jess’ closest sibling in age and looks. All of the other siblings where only a year or two apart, but John was three years older than Jess. John was married to Stacy. They didn’t have any children yet, but that wasn’t really a bad thing since John was away in Iraq while Stacy waited patiently at home for his return. Stacy was similar to Jared’s wife. They were both happy and energetic. Stacy would have the family in fits of laughter when she would tell a story about what happened at work or something her mom did since she was so animated while telling a story and would usually over exaggerate everything. It was always fun when Jo and Stacy were around.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;Jess quickly read the e-mail from John. Nothing was wrong. He was just giving an update on how he and his Marine buddies passed the time between missions. Jess logged out of her e-mail and went to the kitchen to make and eat her dinner. Rain lingered nearby as Jess ate. Once Jess was done with her dinner and had everything cleaned up, she went into the living room to see if anything good was on TV. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;She turned on the TV and plopped into her favorite, oversized chair with a sigh. It was nice to be able to relax. She should probably take Rain for a walk since it was such a nice day, but she couldn’t find the energy to get out of the chair, now that she was sitting. Looking around, she realized that the remote was not on the arm of the chair as it normally was. She groaned as she saw it across the room, sitting on a bookshelf. Slightly amused at how lazy she was suddenly feeling, so tried to talk herself out of getting up to grab the remote. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;As she stared at the TV with some annoying reality show, wishing she could change the channel without getting up, something strange happened. There was a flicker of movement off to her left by one of the bookshelves. Jess ignored the movement, thinking that there was a fly or that Rain had tossed one of her toys in that direction, and tried to pay attention to the crazy people causing drama. It happened again, and this time Jess could not ignore it. The remote was now half way between the bookshelf and the chair she was sitting in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-6763607881343723609?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/6763607881343723609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=6763607881343723609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/6763607881343723609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/6763607881343723609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/03/story-without-name-pt1.html' title='Story Without a Name Pt1'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-5043219991418420887</id><published>2008-03-07T10:10:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T10:26:20.471-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Here's a better update that actually has information on what has been going through my mind. I know that my mind is a scary place, but read this if you are feeling brave enough to delve into the mind of Red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had so much going on lately and I feel like I'm going a little crazy. I've had to deal with a wave of asthma attacks that keep me away from work up to a week at a time (which really hurts me financially and at work), with school which is becoming increasingly difficult (thank goodness it'll be done in August), and with work which has become busier than ever (which I didn't think possibly after the insanity of December). I leave work every day exhausted just to go home to take care of Rain and start on homework and then collapse into bed. My weekends have been my sanity lately. I live for the weekends where I can spend 3 days with Wil and our friends, watching movies, joking, and playing video games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my job and enjoy school, but sometimes it begins to feel like too much. My breaks and lunches are spent reading my school books in between answering the never ending e-mails and phone calls. It's crazy, but at least I'm not bored :). I can't help but be distant and distracted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always felt like an outsider in my family. It's been lessened to a degree by Jason marrying Jenn and Josh marrying Steph. They make me look not quite as odd compared to the rest of the family :). Lately, I've found it increasingly difficult to be around my family. I know I have Rain, and most days, I love my life. It's just hard to be around the family because it makes me feel so inadequate and more alone than I ever feel any other time. I've never really felt comfortable talking to any of them about anything that's super important. Maybe that's one of the reasons that I feel like I have to figure everything out on my own and do everything on my own. I always feel weird when I ask them for advice or try to explain how I'm feeling or my point of view. That feeling extends beyond my family, but is the worst with them. I always try to be completely straight forward and honest, but I have a hard time expressing my views to the family for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have very many female friends and those who I am closest to haven't really been around lately (one moved to Montana, the other is now married and pregnant so I rarely get to see her), and most of the friends who I am close to are mutual friends of mine and Wil's so I never feel comfortably talking to them about anything too personal and don't want to spoil the fun and joking that goes on when we're all together, so I can't really express a whole lot to them. When I do talk to any of them, they listen and are nice about it, but most of the time, thoughts and feelings that don't relate to the movie we are watching or the game we are playing are just ignored and not expressed. I talk to Wil about things. His usual advice is to not worry about things I can't change and to just do whatever I can do (which in most cases is exactly what I need to hear since I tend to stress too much about little things).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These thoughts, especially related to my family, have been weighing on my chest for over a year now and have increased every time our family gets together (less for GNI, but the feeling is still there). It was building very slowly for a long time and has become an avalanche ever since Josh left. I don't think the two things are connected really, but that's when I really started to notice it. Every time the family gets together, I have a strong desire to just go sit in a corner somewhere and be alone. I don't really feel connected at all to my family anymore. I almost feel like a stranger intruding on a family gathering. I try to tell myself that thoughts like that are ridiculous and silly, but they don't go away. I do whatever I can think of to continue to feel like part of the family when I am with them. I do what I can to contribute to conversations going on, and when I don't feel like that is working, I turn my attention to the kids. While playing with them, and being a total goof, I feel less lonely and awkard and am able to forget about things, if only for a few minutes before I realized that I'm not in good shape and the endurance of the kiddos surpasses my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, those are some of the thoughts that are going through my head when I'm not thinking about the piles of work on my desk (that I should probably get back to now), or the homework that needs to be completed this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Typing out my thoughts seems to have lifted a weight off of me that I didn't realize was there. I'm not sure how many people will read this, or what they think about it, but this was more for me anyway, so even though I value the advice and opinions of others, I won't be upset if I don't get any.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to put my nose to the grindstone again and do what I can to finish the work that has piled up on my desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until later, buh-bye!&lt;br /&gt;Red&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-5043219991418420887?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/5043219991418420887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=5043219991418420887' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/5043219991418420887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/5043219991418420887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/03/update-part-2.html' title='Update Part 2'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-6579626480914991827</id><published>2008-03-05T08:37:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T08:45:18.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;So, after many people asking me about it, I've realized that I haven't updated this at all this year. Sorry about that. The past few months haven't given me time to work on my writing. Work and school have been hectic and most of my free time is spent either sleeping or occasionally with Wil and our friends. I will try to do better and start writing the short stories. Anyway, that's all for now. I've gotta get back to the piles of work that are waiting for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-6579626480914991827?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/6579626480914991827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=6579626480914991827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/6579626480914991827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/6579626480914991827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2008/03/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-5466441139611252503</id><published>2007-12-26T11:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T11:11:17.967-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Short Stories</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;I've decided that since I love writing, I want to start writing some short stories. The characters will be based off of my friends, family, and people I know. Creative writing is something I've messed around with before, but I've never been terribly good at it. I plan to use everyday expriences and then tweak them to make them work for my stories. Hopefully, this will help with my creative writing. I will most likely post the complete stories, or at least parts of the complete story, on here. I will also post soon about my Christmas (even though it will be celebrated this Sunday rather than yesterday). Until I post again, have a wonderful day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-5466441139611252503?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/5466441139611252503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=5466441139611252503' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/5466441139611252503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/5466441139611252503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2007/12/short-stories.html' title='Short Stories'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-4600644654902168978</id><published>2007-12-07T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T11:35:41.244-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bus'/><title type='text'>The Bus Adventures</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;This week has been an interesting one. I had to ride the bus to and from work for the first time, starting on Wednesday. I wanted to be prepared so I studied the schedules and where to get on and off. Apparently, I didn't study very well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a fairly cold day, but not too cold considering the fact that it was a December morning in Utah. Leaving my house at 6:30 am, I walked to the bus stop on Wednesday and only waited a few minutes for the bus to arrive. I boarded the bus, paid the fee, got a transfer pass, and took a seat. I felt pretty good about it so far. My dad had mentioned that would probably be on the same bus as I was so I was anxiously waiting for him to board so I'd be able to relax and know for sure that I was on the right bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't start to worry until we passed where he would have gotten on. As we passed it, I started to worry. This wasn't the route I had studied and it just didn't seem right. Frantically, I grabbed my map of all the bus routes and tried to find one that would take me into town. I'd realized that I'd gotten on the bus going the wrong direction. Instead of heading to Salt Lake, I was heading for the Vally Fair Mall in West Valley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I randomly chose a bus that would go from the mall into SLC. I got off the bus at the Valley Fair Mall, waited less than a minute, and boarded the bus I had decided to take. At this point, I was incredibly stressed because I didn't know the route of this bus at all. I figured I'd be able to find a good place to get off and walk to few remaining blocks to work. Knowing that I'd probably end up being late, I figured I should call my boss. I pulled out my cell phone, and for some unknown reason, I didn't have any service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got off the bus in Salt Lake, but again, I screwed up. I got off a little too early. I ended up having to walk seven blocks to work. I was tired, I was grumpy, but I'd finally made it to work. As I trudged up the stairs to my desk, I tried to put it all behind me and just be thankful that I'd gotten to work before too long. I arrived at my desk at 8:05 am. It had taken me more than an hour and a half to get to work. I was incredibly sore since my work shoes have no support and aren't good for walking, I was stressed since I'd arrived to work late, and I was tired from waking up early and all the walking that I'm not used to. It did not seem like it would be a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the day went on fairly normally. For some reason, my department has been busier this December than ever before. Normally, or so I'm told, December is a slow month for us. I guess this year decided to prove them wrong. While I work, I went to the UTA website to plan my trip home so I would know exactly where to go and when rather than having to guess my way through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work ended and I walked the two blocks to the bus stop, where I would wait. I knew what bus I had to take. I knew what time. I knew where I had to get off. This should go much smoother this time. I boarded the bus, got my transfer and took a seat. The bus ride went smoothly at first. As we neared where I had to get off, I was worried about missing my next bus, which only comes every 30 minutes and would only come two more times that night. I panicked about getting to the right place, and ended up getting off early again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked at the address I had to go to and thought I had to cross the street, so I did. I sat at the bus stop that I thought was the right one for a few minutes. Suddenly, my brain decided to work again and I realized I was two blocks East of where I needed to be. Feeling panicked again, I walked as quickly as possible to the correct bus stop. On my way there, I watched a bus pull away and had the sinking feeling in my stomach that I had just missed my bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to the bus stop and sat down, knowing but not wanting to admit it, that I had missed my bus and I was an idiot because of missing it. After watching bus after bus after bus stop at my stop and people filing on and off of them with my bus nowhere in site, I started to get discouraged. Finally, my bus arrived. I sat down and realized that I'd forgotten to bring my book to read on the long ride home. Inwardly, I cursed myself yet again for being so forgetful. This was just not my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bus ride home was uneventful. I got off, again a stop too early (me and my stupid fear of going too far...). When I got home, I was very happy to be home and just relaxed all night, watching movies, eating ice cream and reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riding the bus yesterday wasn't nearly as bad since I now knew where I needed to go and what bus I needed to get on, and the stops to get on and off of. It all went fairly smoothly yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, another "adventure" unfolded. I left my house around 6:30 am to catch my bus. I knew it had been raining all night and also knew that it was still raining in the morning. I thought to myself as I left my house, "I should probably grab an umbrella". Even so, I didn't grab my umbrella and I headed to the bus stop. It wasn't raining too hard so I figured I'd be ok. I was only a little wet when the bus arrived and I boarded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rode into SLC and, having remembered my book, spent most of the ride lost in a world created by someone else's words. I got off at my transfer spot and noticed that it was raining much harder now. Luckily, at this stop, there was one of those bus benches with a cover over the top. I was able to get under that and stay dry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My next bus arrived and the next few blocks went quickly. I got off the bus and immediately wished that I didn't have to walk two more blocks. By now, the rain had turned from a steady drizzle to an all out down pour. I walked as fast as I could to the corner where I would cross the street. The gutters were overflowing so rather than just walking across the street, I had to leap over the puddles that were created at each intersection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaping is not an easy thing to do when you have a bag on your shoulder, you're wearing work clothes that are not used to handling this kind of weather, and the shoes on your feet are more for looks than support. I was certain that I was bound to have one of those moments that we all laugh at but are horrible when they happen to you. I was convinced that I would attempt my leap, slip, and end up knee deep in freezing, dirty gutter water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For once, luck was with me. I miraculously mangaged to avoid drowning in the knee deep water. I did not, however, manage to avoid getting completely drenched. After walking only half a block of the two block walk that remained to get to work, my hair was soaked through, and my pants were cold, wet and sticking to my legs. I arrived at work, mostly unscathed, but looking like a drowned rat. My hair was a mess. It was so wet that when I got to my desk, I was actually able to wringe out a fair amount of water from it into my garbage bin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily for me, Wil will be picking me up from work so I don't have to stand in the rain waiting for a bus. Thus ends the bus adventures, for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-4600644654902168978?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/4600644654902168978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=4600644654902168978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/4600644654902168978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/4600644654902168978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2007/12/bus-adventures.html' title='The Bus Adventures'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-5136211124507952471</id><published>2007-11-30T08:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T08:16:40.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Color Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;I took the quiz at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.colorquiz.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;http://www.colorquiz.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt; yesterday and it came up with scarily accurate stuff. There are a few things in there that I knew were true, but didn't want to admit to myself. Anyway, here are my results:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Existing Situation Persistent.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Demands what she feels to be her due and endeavors to maintain her position intact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Stress Sources&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feels unappreciated and finds the existing situation threatening. Wants personal recognition and the esteem of others to compensate for the lack of like-minded people with whom to ally herself and make herself more secure. Her sensual self-restraint makes it difficult for her to give herself, but the resulting isolation leads to the urge to surrender and merge with another. This disturbs her as she regards such instincts as weaknesses to be overcome; only by not succumbing to them, she feels, can she withstand the difficulties of the situation. Wants to be valued as a desirable associate and admired for her personal qualities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Restrained Characteristics&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Egocentric and therefore quick to take offense. Conditions are such that she will not let herself become intimately involved without making mental reservations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Desired Objective&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeks an affectionate relationship, offering fulfillment and happiness. Capable of powerful emotional enthusiasm. Helpful, and willing to adapt herself if necessary to realize the bond of affection she desires. Needs the same consideration and understanding from others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Actual Problem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depleted vitality has created an intolerance for any further stimulation, or demands on her resources. A feeling of powerlessness subjects her to agitation and acute distress. Tries to escape from this by relinquishing the struggle, and by finding peaceful and restful conditions in which to recuperate in an atmosphere of affection and security.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Actual Problem #2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wants to be valued and respected, and seeks this from a close and peaceful association of mutual esteem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-5136211124507952471?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/5136211124507952471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=5136211124507952471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/5136211124507952471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/5136211124507952471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2007/11/color-quiz.html' title='Color Quiz'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-5399338605003385930</id><published>2007-11-28T15:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T15:40:24.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WIP: The Godfather Part Blake...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/0e6FmWUU_uQ' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/0e6FmWUU_uQ'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is a video of Blake talking about the improv team, and trying to guess that he invented Godfather marionettes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-5399338605003385930?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/5399338605003385930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=5399338605003385930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/5399338605003385930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/5399338605003385930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2007/11/wip-godfather-part-blake.html' title='WIP: The Godfather Part Blake...'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8064002793253445830.post-5337877618353012349</id><published>2007-11-26T16:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T15:03:32.529-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Work In Progress</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;So, right now, I'm working on a super fun project. I'm taking pictures of the improv troupe, Work In Progress. I also have the job of editing their MySpace page. I go to most of their shows and a few of their workshops. It's so much fun! They are all very funny and their shows are getting better each week. Anyway, they perform every Friday and Saturday at the Empress Theatre from 10:30 pm to midnight. Go to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.empresstheatre.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;http://www.empresstheatre.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt; or &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/wipcomedy"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;www.myspace.com/wipcomedy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt; to get more information. Anyway, that's all I've got for now. Until I post again, see ya!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TM9n3H5Fj0w&amp;amp;rel=" width="425" height="355" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8064002793253445830-5337877618353012349?l=littlest-red.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/feeds/5337877618353012349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8064002793253445830&amp;postID=5337877618353012349' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/5337877618353012349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8064002793253445830/posts/default/5337877618353012349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://littlest-red.blogspot.com/2007/11/work-in-progress.html' title='Work In Progress'/><author><name>Red</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
