<?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-8631559</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:47:29.427-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dance as if no one were watching....</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>60</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-117539959893025364</id><published>2007-03-31T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T21:53:18.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back and Happier</title><content type='html'>I really should update more often, even though I don't even know whether anyone is still reading this! I know my last entries were pretty depressing, but everything is a million times better now. I've been living in my new place for almost 4 months now (longer than my last place!) and I absolutely love it. I love not having to deal with roomates and their drama. I love having an entire place where everything belongs to me. I love being able to do whatever I want, whenever I want and not worry about disturbing anyone or worry what they think of me. I love that I can throw my stuff anywhere without it being in anyone's way. I love that if I don't get around to cleaning for a couple days, no one else can complain. I love that I can have anyone visit whenever I want. I love that I have the freedom to decorate however I want. I love that I'm in a safe, quiet neighborhood that is away from the craziness of the city, but that everything I need is within walking distance. I love that right at the end of the street is a clean, gorgeous, uncrowded beach. But mostly I love how happy and stress-free I am. I never expected to be able to afford a place like this, and I know how lucky I am that it all came together this way thanks to a great friend. I feel like I'm finally able to be the person I want to be because I don't have other people around all the time making me feel like less of a person, and that has made such a difference. Looking back, I see so clearly how completely miserable I was before and how that affected my personality. I didn't like who I was when I was with them, and because of that, I withdrew, not just from them but from everybody. Only one person knew how bad it was for me there, because I wouldn't tell anyone else. I think I was afraid that it was my fault and that I should be able to fix it. So many people who heard the details were shocked at what those two thought about me- that I was antisocial and too quiet and unfriendly and unwelcoming. Outside of that apartment, I wasn't that type of person at all. And now that I'm here and I never have to see them again (hopefully!) I'm the happy, friendly, welcoming person that everyone else sees.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-117539959893025364?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/117539959893025364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=117539959893025364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/117539959893025364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/117539959893025364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2007/03/back-and-happier.html' title='Back and Happier'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-116754399725386388</id><published>2006-12-30T21:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-30T21:46:37.253-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ditto</title><content type='html'>I dont know why that got published twice and I dont have the patience right now to fix it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-116754399725386388?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/116754399725386388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=116754399725386388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/116754399725386388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/116754399725386388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2006/12/ditto.html' title='Ditto'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-116754390811051398</id><published>2006-12-30T21:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-30T21:45:08.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Year in Review</title><content type='html'>So 2006 is just about over. I thought about doing this whole detailed summary of the past year. However, upon reflection, 2006 was a horrible year that I dont want to re-live in vivid detail. So here's the Cliff Notes version:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2006 began with a suicide, ended with the death of my beloved dog, and somewhere in there I lost one of my closest friends and moved from one crappy living situation to another. Although a big promotion at work helped to ease the pain, not to mention finance my new apartment, which I will be moving into during the first few weeks of 2007, it was not enough to balance out the complete and utter suckiness of the past year. So there you go. It is time for this year to be over and done with. Auld Lang Syne everyone....whatever the hell that means.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-116754390811051398?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/116754390811051398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=116754390811051398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/116754390811051398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/116754390811051398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2006/12/year-in-review_30.html' title='The Year in Review'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-116754379315446323</id><published>2006-12-30T21:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-30T21:43:13.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Year in Review</title><content type='html'>So 2006 is just about over. I thought about doing this whole detailed summary of the past year. However, upon reflection, 2006 was a horrible year that I dont want to re-live in vivid detail. So here's the Cliff Notes version:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2006 began with a suicide, ended with the death of my beloved dog, and somewhere in there I lost one of my closest friends and moved from one crappy living situation to another. Although a big promotion at work helped to ease the pain, not to mention finance my new apartment, which I will be moving into during the first few weeks of 2007, it was not enough to balance out the complete and utter suckiness of the past year. So there you go. It is time for this year to be over and done with. Auld Lang Syne everyone....whatever the hell that means.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-116754379315446323?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/116754379315446323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=116754379315446323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/116754379315446323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/116754379315446323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2006/12/year-in-review.html' title='The Year in Review'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-116719308728671885</id><published>2006-12-26T20:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-26T20:18:07.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Packing Again</title><content type='html'>Ok, well it seems like the only time I update this thing is when something big happens....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in keeping with that tradition....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm moving again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup, again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After living in the new place awhile, I wasn't all that happy with it, for many reasons....random roomates I never see, mail issues, and the latest, mice. Then I came home from work the other day to find a For Sale sign out front. And no, the landlord did not, and still has not, said a word to me about it. Chances are that it won't sell for quite awhile, but there's always that possibility. And whoever buys it probably won't want to keep tenants. So as of now, I'm looking at new places. Luckily, my financial situation is better than it was for the last apartment search, so I'm thinking of getting a studio, thus eliminating ALL potential roomate issues. I don't know if I want to stay in Quincy or go someplace new, but I spent a long time on craiglist tonight searching the entire south shore. I've gotten a few responses, so I'm going to start setting up appointments to look at other places. In the meantime, if anyone knows of anything, let me know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I know where I'm going, I'll let everyone know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-116719308728671885?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/116719308728671885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=116719308728671885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/116719308728671885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/116719308728671885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2006/12/packing-again.html' title='Packing Again'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-115898021372818027</id><published>2006-09-22T19:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-22T19:56:53.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My, How Things Change....</title><content type='html'>For those of you still trying to figure it out (Its a challenge, I know) I'm finally at a point where things are finalized.&lt;br /&gt;To catch you up:&lt;br /&gt;Three weeks ago my roomate informed me that she was moving out and that our other roomate was thinking about moving. We all got into a big discussion in which I was basically blamed for everything.&lt;br /&gt;I started interviewing new roomates, met some good people and was all set to offer the rooms to two of them. In the meantime, the current roomates (him in particular) had been doing everything possible to make me miserable. Then when I asked them both for an exact date of their departures, they said (well, he said, but she didnt contradict him) that they wanted to stay and kick me out. When I said he had no right he said that if I stayed, he would make my life miserable til I chose to leave. He also threatened to tell the people I was interviewing that I was a horrible roomate so that they wouldnt want to live with me either.&lt;br /&gt;So then I went to the landlords, who decided that to be as fair as possible, since neither of them had given a definite answer about leaving, that she would get first choice since she was there longest, then it would go to me. They also told him that if he continued to threaten and harass me, they would kick him out immediately.&lt;br /&gt;So a few days went by, and then she made her decision. She was going to stay and I had a month and a half to move out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then I started looking at apartments, met some nice people, met some completely insane people, and last night I found a place that I absolutely love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be able to move out of this hell-hole by next weekend. Hallelujah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If nothing else, even though I've lost a friend (although she somehow seems to think that we'll still be friends after all this) I've also realized who my truest friends are- the ones who have been right there for me throughout this whole mess...and who have even offered to help me move into the new place!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess it isnt a total loss. I really love the new place and even though I'll miss this apartment (notice that I specified the place itself, not the people living in it!) I feel so much better than I have in awhile. This whole thing was a long time coming, and I've known for months that something wasnt right between us. Now the burden is lifted and I can start making a new life for myself without either of them in it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-115898021372818027?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/115898021372818027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=115898021372818027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/115898021372818027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/115898021372818027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-how-things-change.html' title='My, How Things Change....'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-115737830199690468</id><published>2006-09-04T06:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T06:58:22.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Help!!</title><content type='html'>Anyone out there who still actually reads this (I have no idea who is!): I need two new roomates! Long story short, one decided to move out as soon as possible, the other decided that if roomie #1 was going and I was staying, that they were both leaving. So I've been searching frantically for the past day and a half (cuz I was the last to find out this bit of news) and now I'm begging any of you who are looking for a place or know someone else who is looking for a place to get in touch with me. Thanks!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-115737830199690468?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/115737830199690468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=115737830199690468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/115737830199690468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/115737830199690468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2006/09/help.html' title='Help!!'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-115578082781642619</id><published>2006-08-16T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-16T19:13:47.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its Nice to Be Missed</title><content type='html'>Its been awhile, I know. Things have been busy with the promotion and other work stuff. I just went back to work today after taking my only real "vacation" for the year (we dont get paid for time off so I try to keep it minimal) which wasnt much of a vacation since I was back in Franklin painting faces at Rocco all weekend. But anyway, today I saw my kids for the first time in a week, which doesnt seem like much, but definitely had an impact on them. My first session, he was so happy to see me that he started clapping as soon as I walked in the door. My next little guy had spent the weekend asking for me, and then when he found out I was coming today he spent the morning watching out the window for me. Then I went to Seana's.... and it was a different story. She had mixed feelings- she was happy to see me, but she was also mad at me for leaving her. So she spent the afternoon going back and forth between giving me the cold shoulder and not wanting to be apart from me. She did this last year too. After a day or two she should be back to her old lovable self. In a way its nice that she gets this emotional about someone, since she never used to have a real connection with anyone, even her family. She's a totally different kid than she was when I met her almost two years ago (I can't believe its been that long!) Its so awesome to see the change and know that I played a role.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-115578082781642619?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/115578082781642619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=115578082781642619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/115578082781642619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/115578082781642619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2006/08/its-nice-to-be-missed.html' title='Its Nice to Be Missed'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-115069097882619928</id><published>2006-06-18T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T21:22:58.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Think You Know Me?</title><content type='html'>Stole this from someone...just a fun little game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;15 Things You May Not Know About Me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. When I roll out of bed in the morning my first thought is usually either "Can I sleep a little longer?" or "Yay I get to work with (insert kids name here) today!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I have a mild obsession with flipflops...and approximately 20 pairs or so to date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. My life now is nothing like I thought it would be 5 years ago: I thought I would be teaching in the suburbs, living on my own (also in the suburbs), involved in a L.T.R. (if you dont know, guess), and going on vacation once in a while. Instead I'm working in a different field which I absolutely love, living in a city on a beach with good friends, still waiting, and rarely even taking a day off let alone a vacation. But for the record, I dont regret any of it (except maybe the lack of LTR which kinda sucks).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Friends have come and gone, but I know I'm better off without the ones that have gone, and all the more grateful for the ones who have stayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. My favorite book is Jane Eyre but I also have a weakness for light, fluffy fiction and/or romance novels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I have 3 birthmarks, one of which very few people have ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. My goal is to marry a Red Sox player :P (but I'll settle for a die-hard fan).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Now that I'm living on a beach I cant imagine living somewhere that isnt near an ocean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. My dog is one of the most important people in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. My toes are usually painted either hot pink or a shade of purple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I love gerbera daisies and orchids and I absolutely HATE stargazer lillies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Fashion mags and chocolate are my guilty pleasures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Coffee is a necessity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. I'm closer to my family than most people my age that I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. I still love (and have most of) my stuffed animals and other childhood toys&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-115069097882619928?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/115069097882619928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=115069097882619928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/115069097882619928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/115069097882619928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2006/06/think-you-know-me.html' title='Think You Know Me?'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-114601888150288555</id><published>2006-04-25T19:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T19:34:41.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Invisible</title><content type='html'>Do you ever get the feeling that sometimes the people around you would rather that maybe you werent? That somewhere along the way something happened, though you dont know what, and out of nowhere you've become invisible at best, a burden at worst? Suddenly, your feelings dont matter as much as theirs...if they even realize that, yes, in fact, you do have feelings.  You start wishing that you could be somewhere else, anywhere else, just so that you wouldnt have to face their sudden change in attitude toward you...or maybe the realization hits you that nothing really has changed, but you're seeing things more clearly. Then you think, "No, I know that it wasnt always like this." And then you wonder, well, why? Why is this happening and what, if anything, can you do about it? Then you realize that there isnt anything you can do except accept it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you cant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you shouldnt have to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-114601888150288555?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/114601888150288555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=114601888150288555' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/114601888150288555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/114601888150288555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2006/04/invisible.html' title='Invisible'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-114446525160607009</id><published>2006-04-07T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-07T20:00:51.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Conference Fun</title><content type='html'>My company made it mandatory to attend a conference today...we're thinking it has more to do with the fact that the group running it is directly tied to us and therefore all the money is just going right back in their pockets, than it is to better our knowledge of the field. It wasnt completely horrible, but I would have rather been doing pretty much anything else. I have, however, compiled a Top 10 List of things I learned at today's conference:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Behavior analysts are not as funny as they think they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Video modelling is a good technique but does not require two and a half hours and 20 video clips to explain it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Behavior analysts are way too proud of what they do and buy vanity plates saying things like BCBA1  and BHVRST.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Forget the kids, its about the money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Fluency training is enhanced by examples- but forcing a roomful of people to write numbers by 2s, count backwards from 7, say shapes that they see over and over again for a full minute, and answering questions about themselves out loud while 400 other people are doing the same thing....its just not cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Behavior analysts engage in self stimulatory behavior more than the average person, however, they also enjoy pointing out when another behavior analyst is stimming...which is amusing the first 5 times but then gets really old really fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Being a victim of ABA usage during a conference is not amusing... EVER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. My company has way too many VP's and none of them do what they are supposed to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Behavior analysts are worse than middle school students when it comes to being clique-ey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Most behavior analysts appear to be on the autistic spectrum themselves!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-114446525160607009?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/114446525160607009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=114446525160607009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/114446525160607009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/114446525160607009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2006/04/conference-fun.html' title='Conference Fun'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-114348406398180606</id><published>2006-03-27T10:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-27T10:27:44.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Clearing Out</title><content type='html'>While transferring emails from one address to another (the new address is &lt;a href="mailto:stardust1280@hotmail.com"&gt;stardust1280@hotmail.com&lt;/a&gt; btw) I found this poem that someone sent me back in college...its SO TRUE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEING TWENTY - SOMETHING years old... They call it the "Quarter-life Crisis." It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn't know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now. You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don't recognize is that they are realizing that too, and aren't really cold, catty, mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you. You look at your job... and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you. Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn't. One minute, you are insecure and then the next, secure. You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward. You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lie in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better. Or maybe you love someone but love someone else too and cannot figure out why you're doing this because you know that you aren't a bad person. One night stands and random hook ups start to look cheap. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through the same emotions and questions over and over, and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision. You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself... and while winning the race would be great, right now you'd just like to be a contender! What you may not realize is that everyone reading this relates to it. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-114348406398180606?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/114348406398180606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=114348406398180606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/114348406398180606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/114348406398180606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2006/03/clearing-out.html' title='Clearing Out'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-114109928122238202</id><published>2006-02-27T19:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T20:01:21.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jen Tagged Me</title><content type='html'>Four jobs you have ever had in your life:- Receptionist, Nanny, Pre-K teacher, behavior therapist&lt;br /&gt;Four places you have lived:- Franklin, Westfield, Quincy, Pocasset (sort of)&lt;br /&gt;Four tv shows you love to watch:-  Grey’s Anatomy, Related, House, Desperate Housewives&lt;br /&gt;Four places you have been on vacation:- New Hamphshire, Virginia, Florida, Cape Cod&lt;br /&gt;Four websites you visit daily:- boston.com, weather.com, msn.com, NAAR.org (not quite daily, but I try)&lt;br /&gt;Four of your favourite foods:- spaghetti fergusen, lasagna, peanut butter, chocolate &lt;br /&gt;Four places you’d rather be right now:- Florida, in bed, Europe, anywhere warmer than here&lt;br /&gt;Four bloggers you are tagging: im not gonna bother cuz they wont do it anyway&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-114109928122238202?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/114109928122238202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=114109928122238202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/114109928122238202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/114109928122238202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2006/02/jen-tagged-me.html' title='Jen Tagged Me'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-113937038463512543</id><published>2006-02-07T19:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T19:46:24.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back Home Again</title><content type='html'>Florida was fabulous! I wish we could have stayed another day or two, but work has to come first. Being a responsible adult sucks sometimes! We got there late Saturday night. Our hotel, otherwise known as the ghetto, was worth what we paid :P complete with a real live lizard in the room, which scooted out under the door when the flash on my camera went off while I was taking a picture of it. Sunday morning we got up early to go to Busch Gardens, which is by far the best theme park I've been to. It was the perfect time to go- there were no lines at any of the rides and the weather was warm, but not hot, and sunny with a slight breeze. We must have gone on each of the rollercoasters at least twice, except one that was really lame. The whole African safari theme was fun too, with lots of animals all over the park, including a group of very rhthmic elephants who were dancing to the music playing over the loudspeakers. I had no idea elephants could dance, I'm glad my phone takes video otherwise no one would believe me!&lt;br /&gt;After spending the day at the park we went out with a friend of my roomate's, who was down there for work, and a really hot Portugese soccer player who plays on the team he works for. The plan was to go out to dinner then hit a bar, but we ran into some mishaps with that plan. Apparently nothing is open past 9pm on Sundays in Florida. We drove around looking for somewhere to eat but didnt have much luck. We checked Applebees first because it was closest, but when we drove by we saw the chairs up on tables so we kept going. Olive Garden, Carraba's, local diners, pizza joints-nothing was open. Then we passed Hooters, and since Melinda and I were outnumbered by the guys, decided to go there. As soon as we walked in the very rude hostess informed us that we would have to leave because they stop serving at 10pm and it was now 10:02. So we left and went to IHOP. When we walked in there, the waitress greeted us with a long list of food that they were out of...so long in fact, that we cut her off to ask what she DID have: Eggs and pancakes. So we sucked it up and sat down. Twenty minutes later she finally came to take our drink orders, and another 15 minutes or so later we finally got our drinks...and there were only three other tables with people. While we were waiting, we saw that the table next to ours had ordered the chicken and fries, which we had been told were unavailable, so we asked about it and were told we couldnt have any. We all ordered pancakes and eggs of some sort. At one point the chef came out, scraggly hair, missing teeth and all, giving us cause for some concern about our food. When we finally got our food, Melinda's pancakes were still liquid. When the waitress FINALLY came over to check on us, Melinda asked her whether there were any eggs in the pancakes, and was told "I have no idea how they make them, the mix just comes in a big sack." Not quite the answer we were looking for. She offered to get her some more pancakes, but Melinda refused and took the rest of mine instead....until she took a bite and something crunched. By that time her appetite was pretty much gone. Carlos, the hot soccer player, who unfortunately had revealed by then that he was married with 4 kids, paid for dinner (its great hanging out with pro athletes- they'll just throw $100 bills around without a second thought...not that our meal cost that much, cuz it was IHOP after all). So then we left and tried to find an open bar, because at that point we all really needed a drink! The only open bars were the strip clubs, which Melinda and I refused to do (maybe if some of the strippers were male, but they werent lol). Then as we were driving by Applebees again, we saw that the parking lot was packed and there were a ton of people inside! Apparently the side that we had seen before was the only section that they had closed. The irony hit us hard, but we went in anyway. While we were sitting at the bar enjoying our drinks (poor Carlos couldnt figure out why we had gone to IHOP instead of just going to Applebees to begin with), Drunk Larry came in with a bang....literally; threw open the doors and announced his presence to the entire restaurant (most of whom already knew him) after celebrating his team's Superbowl win. He immediately came over to us and threw his arms around my roomate, practically mauling him til his friends tried to pull him away, then he went after Melinda after assuring her that he could be very gentle. Luckily I was spared. Trying to deter him, the other guy we were with told him that his cousin played for the other team, hoping that would make him want to stay away from us, "the enemy," but Drunk Larry was even more excited and sat right down with us for the next 20 minutes or so til his friends were finally able to pry him away. After our second round of drinks we left Drunk Larry and his buddies and headed back the condo that hot Carlos and the other guy were staying at. I gotta say, I was loving the European tradition of "proper" greetings for women :P Anyway, we left them and headed back to the ghetto around 1am. Monday morning we got up and went to the Pier and Baywalk, which are both on the water with lots of fun shops and great scenery. We had an early lunch and cocktails (that was the only time I've ever started drinking before noon!) at Dan Marinos, then headed to the beach for a little bit before we had to go to the airport. It was in the 70's and sunny and we even went in the water (only to our knees, but its February, who cares?!) Our flight back included a long layover in Miami, so we hit up Casa Bacardi for dinner and cocktails then headed to the Sam Adams bar to wait for our flight...they had great Long Island iced teas. By the time we got on the plane it was a pretty safe bet that none of us could have driven home, so its a good thing we had a ride home from the airport. We got home around midnight and then we all had to get up early for work today.&lt;br /&gt;All in all it was an awesome trip, and SO needed. Cant wait to plan the next one (once I'm done paying for this one that is lol).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-113937038463512543?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/113937038463512543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=113937038463512543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/113937038463512543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/113937038463512543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2006/02/back-home-again.html' title='Back Home Again'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-113885633704158847</id><published>2006-02-01T20:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T20:58:57.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mini-Vacation</title><content type='html'>I'm going to Florida this weekend with one of my best friends and one of my roomates!! She really needs to get away for a little while, so he went online and found a great deal for the three of us to go to Tampa for three days. I cant wait- I havent taken a real vacation in...umm...way too long since I cant remember. I almost didnt go cuz it means missing a family thing this weekend and work on Monday, but then I decided that I never do stuff like this and after everything that's happened, I definitely need to just do it. I'm so excited. Even though it wont be beach weather, its definitely warmer than here! We're going to do Busch Gardens and she and I may try to find a day spa too... and my roomie has already said that he's doing all the driving which means that she and I are free to "get hammered and do all kinds of girly things" as he so nicely put it. Teehee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-113885633704158847?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/113885633704158847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=113885633704158847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/113885633704158847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/113885633704158847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2006/02/mini-vacation.html' title='Mini-Vacation'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-113747009723630153</id><published>2006-01-16T19:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-16T19:54:57.283-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Candle in the Wind</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"And it seems to me that you lived your life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Like a candle in the wind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Never knowing who to cling to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When the rain set in."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Those of you who I've talked to in the last few days (there arent many of you, I know) will understand what this is about. Those of you who dont know but would like to can email or call me, because it isnt something I want to put out in the open like this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Its been a difficult few days, but in every tragedy, a lesson can be learned. It wont likely be an easy lesson, but it will make you grow stronger in time. I'm sure there are plenty of lessons that can be learned from what happened, but right now the most important is that friends and family will always be there when you need them most, as long as you are willing to let them in. Although I didnt know him, he was a part of a friend's life, and therefore a part of mine. What happened will change her, and therefore me, forever. There's an invisible strand linking us to those we care about, and what happens to them happens to us. If she hadnt called me that night, or I hadnt gone with her, or he wasnt in the mindset that he was, or any number of different situations had occurred, who knows what the outcome would have been. I can only be thankful that even though it should never have happened, it could have been much much worse for everyone involved. It seems strange to say that given the circumstances, but thinking about what else could have happened on top of everything that did happen scares me beyond words. After the tragedy, I saw how much love and friendship can help someone who is suffering. The next days, months, even years, are going to be unbelievably difficult for her and I can only hope that I, and her family and other friends, will be able to keep her strong and help her through the rough times. A simple hug cant always make everything better, but it sure can make everything more bearable. So I'm sending out hugs and warm thoughts to everyone who reads this, and I encourage you to do the same for those you care about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-113747009723630153?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/113747009723630153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=113747009723630153' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/113747009723630153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/113747009723630153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2006/01/candle-in-wind.html' title='Candle in the Wind'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-113555603853995472</id><published>2005-12-25T16:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-25T16:13:58.550-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Holidays</title><content type='html'>Merry Christmas Everyone! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday full of happy memories. I got many wonderful gifts, but one will always stand out for me this Christmas. A family I work with (the one I talk about all the time) gave me a framed scrapbbok page with a picture of my little girl and a picture of the whole family, along with the following poem that her mom wrote about me from Seana's point of view:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God must have known how much I needed you...&lt;br /&gt;For helping to see ahead to the "me" I could be.&lt;br /&gt;For believing in my spirit...&lt;br /&gt;For sharing in all the outings, the meals, the baths,&lt;br /&gt;The bouncing on the trampoline and our walks...&lt;br /&gt;For loving my whole family,&lt;br /&gt;And for letting me love my "babies"...&lt;br /&gt;For all that you do...&lt;br /&gt;I love you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been showing it off to everyone I see, and all of them have had pretty much the same reactions...they finally understand exactly what my job means to me. For all the headaches and frustration, there are a million laughs and smiles and happy times, which make it all so worth it to me.  So I hope you all are having as merry a Christmas as I am!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-113555603853995472?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/113555603853995472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=113555603853995472' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/113555603853995472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/113555603853995472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/12/happy-holidays.html' title='Happy Holidays'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-113426128242465512</id><published>2005-12-10T16:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T16:34:42.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>24 and 367 Days</title><content type='html'>Thats right, I refuse to be 25. 25 is old. 25 is too close to 30. 25 is a quarter of a century, and I refuse to be that old. And it has nothing to do with the fact that my birthday was, well, it wasnt the best. I'll just leave it at that.&lt;br /&gt;However, on a completely different topic, since I'm sure you're all wondering what's been going on with me lately (I realize I'm not great at keeping in touch, maybe that will be my New Years Resolution...or maybe I'll just take over the world instead, who knows), I do have some good news...possibly. My company is starting an ABE-BE training program (for ABE's who want to become BE's) and my supervisor nominated me for the first class. There are 6 slots available and so far only five of us have been nominated, but I dont know for sure yet whether I was selected. If I do get in, then starting in just a few weeks I will begin my certification training to be a BE, which means that I will be the one designing programs, writing reports, doing intakes of new cases, and training and supervising ABE's. It also means more money. Its a 12 week program, and at the end I will be qualified to start taking on BE cases. They will start me slowly, one at a time while I continue with my ABE cases, and as I get more BE cases, I will be replaced as ABE on my current cases. That's the not so good news. Right now I have two children I work with whom I am very attached to, and I dont want to lose them. One of them is a little girl (who I'm sure you've all heard my stories about) with whom I've been working ever since I started at the company, and its going to be extremely difficult to leave her. The other one is a little boy that I've been with for several months, but I was going to be losing hours with him anyway because he recently started school and will be adding more school hours gradually, which means that he'll lose home hours. Because the little girl's family is going to be very upset about my leaving, she'll (hopefully) be the last one I lose. I'd like to stay on with her even if it means being an ABE with ABE pay, but I dont know if that will be possible. In the meantime, I'm looking forward to taking the class and moving up in the company!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-113426128242465512?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/113426128242465512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=113426128242465512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/113426128242465512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/113426128242465512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/12/24-and-367-days.html' title='24 and 367 Days'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-113272070840201049</id><published>2005-11-22T20:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T20:38:28.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Comes Up with These?</title><content type='html'>&lt;table&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" align="center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Have you Ever...?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Played Spin the Bottle?:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;i can honestly say i havent- my friends in high school were too well mannered and by college we moved onto truth or dare jenga  &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Toilet Paper someone's house:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;nope &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Played Poker with money:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no, but i have played with cookies and swedish fish...someone still owes me some cookies BTW &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Gone swimming in a white T-shirt:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;just a white t? nope &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been tickled so hard you couldn't talk:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;you obviously werent on the bus from NY &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;like someone but never told them:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yup &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;went camping:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yeah not too long ago &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;had a crush on your broher's friend:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;umm theyre 16, so im gonna have to say no &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;walk in the rain without an umbrella:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;i dont own one, so yeah &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;told a joke that NObody thought was funny:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yeah &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been in a talent show:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;in elementary school...what were we thinking? &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;started laughing at someone's bedtime:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;i dont remember, but i probably did &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;worn somthing your mom didn't appove of:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;probably &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been to a nude beach:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;drank jack daniels:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yeah but i dont remember much from that night &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;cursed in a church:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;i dont think so &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been called a slut for kissing someone:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;only in a friendly, joking sort of way &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;burnt yourslef with a curling iron/straightner:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yeah im a dork who cant handle hair care products successfully &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;wanted to be a police officer:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;never &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;dumped someone:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yes &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been hit on by someone too old:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;is 80-something too old? lol &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;wanted to be a model:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yeah right &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;bought lottery tickets:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;once in awhile &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;made out in a car:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;of course, isnt that like a rite of passage &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;cried during a movie:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;all the time &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;wanted something you couldn't have:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;of course &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;had sex on the beach:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no that sounds pretty painful- sand and shells and whatnot &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;had the drink sex on the beach:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;i dont think so, but there were many drinks i tried that i dont remember lol &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;seen someone shoplift:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;hung up on someone:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;not recently, but yeah &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;yelled at you pet:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;i used to, now i just try using ABA techniques on her- works much better &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;bought a thong when the casheir was a guy:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yes &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;tried to strip when drunk:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;god i hope not &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;gotten seasick:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;had a stalker:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;unfortunately i have &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;played a prank on somone that had them really scared:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;really scared? no, somewhat scared, yes &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been embarassed by one of your family:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;have ya met my family?? &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;felt bad about eating meat:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;only veal or lamb &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;protested:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;like an organized one? no &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been to an island:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been in love:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yes &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;ate jus because you were bored:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;thats what refrigerated cookie dough is for! &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;looked at something everybody thought was ugly and said "aww":&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;umm, no... &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Screamed in a library:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;nope &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Made out with a stranger:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;what constitutes a stranger? if its less than three hours then no &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Been Dumped:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yeah &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Wished a part of you was different:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;sure &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;asked a guy to dance:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yeah &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been asked out by a really hot guy:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;have you seen the guys i date? &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;laughe so hard ou cried:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;again with the bus from NY... &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;went up to a complete stranger and started talking:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no, but they always seem to find me &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been sunburned:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;me? sunburned? lol...yeah &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;kicked a guy in the nuts for being a pervert:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;threw up in school:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;not since i was very very young &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;recieved an anonymous love letter:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no but that would be cool &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;had to wear something you hated:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;hmm..colorguard uniforms anyone? &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been to a luau:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;not a real one &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;say your ex and wanted to kick his ass:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yup hehe but that was many moons ago &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;cursed in front of your parents:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;not intentionally &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been in a commerical on tv:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;watched a movie that made you miss your ex:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yeah &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been out of the country:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no im not much of a traveler &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been honked at by some guy when you were walking down the sidewalk:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;every time i walk along my beach &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;won at pool:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no i suck at pool &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;went to a party where you were the ony sober one:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;ive been to parties where i was one of the 2 or 3 &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;went on a diet:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;not really &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been lost out to sea:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;nope &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;cheated on your bf:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;never &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been cheated on:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yes &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;tanned topless:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;that would probably put me in the hospital! &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been attacked by seagulls:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been searched in an airport:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;my bag has been, but not me &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been on a plane:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yes &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been pants-ed:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;nope &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;thown a shoe at someone:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;not that i recall &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;broke someone's heart:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;i may have &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;sung in the shower:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;only when i know no one else is home &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;bought something way too expensive:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yes &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;done something really stupid that you still laugh about:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;what fun would my life be if i hadnt? &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been walked in on when you were dressing:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yes &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;ran out of a movie theatre because you were too scared of the movie:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;movies never scare me &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been kicked out of the mall:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;nope &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;ben mean to someone then instantly wanted to take it back:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yeah &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;been given a detention on the worst day that you could get one:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;i never had detention &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;done something stupid when you were drunk:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;not toooo stupid, but yeah &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;fell off your roof:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;although it does sound like something i would do, no i havent (yet) &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;pretended you were scared so you could cuddle up with someone:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;i plead the fifth  &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;had a deer jump in fron of your car:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;almost &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;threated someone witha water gun:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;hell yeah! &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" valign="top" align="center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Can you....&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;Unwrap a starburst with your tounge:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;its one of my many talents &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;sing:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;i can carry a tune &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;open your eyes underwater:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;briefly &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;eat whatever you want and not have to worry:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;i wish &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;ice skate:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;i used to be able to...i dont know if i still can! &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;sing in front of a crowd:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no way &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;whistle:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;nope &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;be a bitch at times:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;of course &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;do thirty pull ups:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;next question please... &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;walkin in really high heals:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;not for long periods of time &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;eat super spicy foods:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;it depends on the type of spicy food &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;skateboard:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;sleep with the lights on:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;if im tired enough &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;mulititask:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;yes &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;touch your nose with your tounge:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;nope &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;fall asleep easily in the car:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;do the cotton eye joe:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;im not even sure what that is &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;play ddr and not fall:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;play what? &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;surf:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;no &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;fit in your locker:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;i dont have one &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;do a split:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;not since i was little &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="right"&gt;taste the difference between pepsi and coke:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;i dont drink soda usually &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bzoink.com/S32004/Have_you_Ever...?.html" title="Have you Ever...?"&gt;Take this survey&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.bzoink.com/surveys" title="Bzoink Surveys"&gt;Find more surveys&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've been totally &lt;a href="http://www.bzoink.com" title="Bzoink"&gt;Bzoink*d&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-113272070840201049?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/113272070840201049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=113272070840201049' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/113272070840201049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/113272070840201049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/11/who-comes-up-with-these.html' title='Who Comes Up with These?'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-113149856127348111</id><published>2005-11-08T20:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-08T17:11:31.083-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Fun Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"  style="color:#cddeff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a&gt;Your Personality Is&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td  style="color:#ebf2ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Idealist (NF)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a passionate, caring, and unique person.You are good at expressing yourself and sharing your ideals.&lt;br /&gt;You are the most compassionate of all types and connect with others easily.Your heart tends to rule you. You can't make decisions without considering feelings.&lt;br /&gt;You seek out other empathetic people to befriend.Truth and authenticity matters in your friendships.&lt;br /&gt;In love, you give everything you have to relationships. You fall in love easily.&lt;br /&gt;At work, you crave personal expression and meaning in your career.&lt;br /&gt;With others, you communicate well. You can spend all night talking with someone.&lt;br /&gt;As far as your looks go, you've likely taken the time to develop your own personal style.&lt;br /&gt;On weekends, you like to be with others. Charity work is also a favorite pastime of yours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-113149856127348111?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/113149856127348111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=113149856127348111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/113149856127348111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/113149856127348111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/11/another-fun-quiz.html' title='Another Fun Quiz'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-112995288024462218</id><published>2005-10-21T23:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-21T20:48:00.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shameless Plug</title><content type='html'>On Saturday, November 5 I will be selling my handcrafted greeting cards (stop snickering, I do pretty nice work!) at a craft fair to raise money for the FHS All Night Graduation Party. The fair is 10-4 (I think) at the Knights of Columbus Hall on West Central St (thats rt 140 for all you non-Franklin residents). Come visit me and buy my stuff so I can afford to keep making them so all of you can get fabulous holiday and birthday greetings for years to come. And if you mention this ad...I mean, post hehe, you can get a discount.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-112995288024462218?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/112995288024462218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=112995288024462218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112995288024462218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112995288024462218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/10/shameless-plug.html' title='Shameless Plug'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-112933959654251112</id><published>2005-10-14T21:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-14T18:26:36.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Break from Being a Grown-Up</title><content type='html'>Someone just sent this to me...it couldnt have come at a more perfect time. I had just gotten home from a crazy, super-stressful 12 hour day (toilet training a stubborn, albeit adorable, 5 year old is a bit nerve-wracking...not to mention exhausting).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes...And go back... Before the Internet or the MAC Before semi automatics and crack Before SEGA or Super Nintendo... Way back... I'm talkin' bout hide and go seek at dusk. Red light, Green light. Playing kickball &amp; dodgeball until your porch light came on. Mother May I? Red Rover.. Hula Hoops. Running through the sprinkler. Happy Meals. Wait... Watchin' Saturday Morning cartoons: Fat Albert, Road Runner, Smurfs, Picture Pages, G-Force &amp;amp; He-Man Wonder Woman &amp;amp; Super Man Underoos. Playing Dukes of Hazard. Catchin' lightning bugs in a jar, Christmas morning... Your first day of school. Bedtime Prayers and Goodnight Kisses. Climbing trees. Getting an Ice Cream off the Ice Cream Truck. A million mosquito bites and sticky fingers. Jumpin' down the steps. Jumpin' on the bed. Pillow fights. Runnin' till you were out of breath. Laughing so hard that your stomach hurt. Being tired from playin.' Your first crush... Rainy days at school meant playing "Heads up 7UP" in the classroom. Remember that? I'm not finished yet... Kool-Aid was the drink of the summer. Giving your friends a ride on your handlebars. Wearing your new shoes on the first day of school. Class Field Trips. When nearly everyone's mom was at home when the kids got there. When a quarter seemed like a fair allowance, and another quarter a Miracle. When any parent could discipline any kid, or feed him or use him to carry Groceries, and nobody, not even the kid, thought a thing of it. When your parents took you to McDonalds and you were so cool. When being sent to the principal's office was nothing compared to the fate that awaited a misbehaving student at home. Basically, we were in fear for our lives but it wasn't because of drive by shootings, drugs, gangs, etc. Our parents and grandparents were a much bigger threat! And some of us are still afraid of em! Didn't that feel good, just to go back and say, "Yeah, I remember that!" I want to go back to the time when... Decisions were made by going "eeny-meeny-miney-mo." Mistakes were corrected by simply exclaiming, "do over!""Race issue" meant arguing about who ran the fastest. Money issues were handled by whoever was the banker in "monopoly." Catching fireflies could happily occupy an entire evening. It wasn't odd to have two or three "best" friends. Being old referred to anyone over 20. The worst thing you could catch from the opposite sex was cooties. Nobody was prettier than Mom. Scrapes and bruises were kissed and made better. It was a big deal to finally be tall enough to ride the "big people" rides at the amusement park. Getting a foot of snow was a dream come true. Abilities were discovered because of a "double-dog-dare." Spinning around, getting dizzy and falling down was cause for giggles. The worst embarrassment was being picked last for a team. Water balloons were the ultimate, ultimate weapon. Older siblings were the worst tormentors, but also the fiercest protectors. If you can remember most or all of these, then you have LIVED!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-112933959654251112?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/112933959654251112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=112933959654251112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112933959654251112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112933959654251112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/10/break-from-being-grown-up.html' title='A Break from Being a Grown-Up'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-112710048499377620</id><published>2005-09-18T23:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T20:28:05.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day to Remember</title><content type='html'>Thanks again to everyone who donated to Walk F.A.R. for NAAR, and I can still collect donations for a few more weeks for those of you who havent but still want to. The only way I can describe today's walk is "amazing." The entire day was ridden with smiles, laughter, happiness, and above all else, a renewed sense of hope for everyone afflicted with autism. I can't think of anywhere else I would rather have been today than at the walk and the after-party. To see so many people, old and young, typical and special needs, familes, friends, and children gather together for the sake of finding a cure for this devastating disorder was inspiring, uplifting, and just plain wonderful. The people who walked today knew that they were there to make a difference, and the children and adults afflicted by autism who took part, it was a unique opportunity to fit in, be "normal," and give hope to everyone who loves them.&lt;br /&gt;This morning when I arrived at the family's home, I was met with an energy unlike anything else I've ever experienced. All of the children, including the three with autism, knew that today was a special day, and they were happier than I have ever seen them. At the walk they had a blast, meeting Elmo and Wally the Green Monster, bouncing on the moonwalk, and then walking 3.1 miles without a single complaint, because they knew that today was their day. At the party afterwards, Neil, the oldest, read a poem written by a 12 year old girl whose brother is autistic. I had read the poem several weeks ago, and nearly cried while doing so. Today, hearing Neil read it, knowing that it could have just as easily been written about his siblings, brought me to tears. When he was done, Nick, a neighbor and PCA who has been working with these kids since the girls were babies, read a poem that he wrote a few days ago while babysitting for the kids. Again, I was in tears. As he was walking back to his seat, Shane ran to him and gave him a hug, and the few people who were not already crying broke down. A friend of mine who had never even met the family until today was so moved by the poems, the love, and the hope that this family shared that she was in tears when it was time to leave and she was saying goodbye to this amazing family. Already I'm looking forward to next year's walk and every walk from now until we find a cure. Thanks again, and a big hug to everyone who sponsored me, everyone who hasnt yet but still plans to, and everyone who is unable to but sent along their thoughts and prayers for today's success. So far our team has raised over $13,000 and the numbers are still growing. Someday we will overcome this devastating disorder, and all of you are helping to make that happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-112710048499377620?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/112710048499377620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=112710048499377620' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112710048499377620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112710048499377620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/09/day-to-remember.html' title='A Day to Remember'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-112693052458589679</id><published>2005-09-17T00:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-16T21:15:24.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Answer is 42</title><content type='html'>Ahh, yes, 42, the answer to the great question of life. The source for this bit of knowledge comes, of course, from The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime back in high school, maybe 8 years ago (damn, am I really that old? Eek!) I was hanging out with friends and, being in Franklin, we were bored, as usual. We were hanging out at Debbie's house, home of the most extensive video collection (yes kiddies, this is before DVDs) I have ever seen outside of Blockbuster. Of all the movies she owned, somehow we decided that the best one to watch would be The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. For what seemed like half a lifetime we all sat there staring in pain at this bizarre disturbance. When the monstrosity finally ended we were all dumbfounded, until Bobby managed to find his voice and sum it up for the rest of us, "Well that's three hours of my life I'll never get back. That is the worst thing I have ever seen." For the next few days, months, even years, that afternoon would come up in conversation to be met by groaning by everyone who was present that day. Yet somehow, after high school ended, I managed to hide that memory somewhere deep in the depths of my psyche, not to be revealed again..... until tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My roomate and I were hanging around the apartment and he asked if I wanted to watch the movie he rented... yes, it was indeed, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (the new version). Having blocked the original from my mind, I immediately agreed, thinking, hey, I remember that as being a funny book, sure I'll watch it. During the song "So long and thanks for all the fish" at the beginning of the movie, I was struck by an odd sense of deja vu, but couldnt quite place it. It wasnt until partway through the movie, when the supercomputer announced to the universe that the answer to the great question of life was 42, that I started to remember... but still couldnt quite place it...so I asked my roomie if there was an earlier version and he said he didnt think so. So I kept watching until I fell asleep, and he woke me up when it ended telling me that he couldnt believe he just spent the last two hours watching that shit.... and then it all came flooding back: the summer afternoon at Debbie's, Bobby's very accurate assessment, and the moans and groans that I heard (and made) everytime it was brought up afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have to ask myself... Why on earth would I put myself through a second viewing of that movie? How did I not remember the first horrific experience? As a psych major, I know that the brain blocks certain memories for the purpose of maintaining a person's emotional equilibrium, but was that movie really so terrible that I was better off not remembering its existence at all? And not only that, but once I realized that I had seen it before, I also remembered that I had never even READ the book... yet somehow in my mind I had replaced the memory of watching the horrible movie with a false memory of reading the book...and enjoying it! What can I say- the human brain is still a complete mystery. So all I can leave you with is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So long and thanks for all the fish!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I just know I'm going to have nightmares over this!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-112693052458589679?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/112693052458589679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=112693052458589679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112693052458589679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112693052458589679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/09/answer-is-42.html' title='The Answer is 42'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-112658256295591006</id><published>2005-09-12T23:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T20:36:02.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NAAR Walk Update</title><content type='html'>The autism walk is one week away and I have not yet reached my goal of $500. If you still wish to donate to this fabulous cause, PLEASE do! I have until Friday to turn in my donations and I would love to meet and possibly exceed my goal. I want to send out a huge hug and a thank you to everyone who has already donated. You are giving families affected by this devastating disorder hope for the future. I realize its difficult, what with gas prices and Katrina relief, but if you can donate even a small amount, you will be making a world of difference. Thanks to all of you for your caring and generosity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-112658256295591006?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/112658256295591006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=112658256295591006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112658256295591006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112658256295591006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/09/naar-walk-update.html' title='NAAR Walk Update'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-112433426474337401</id><published>2005-08-17T23:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-17T20:04:24.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Help a Great Cause</title><content type='html'>For those of you who didnt receive this letter via email or snail mail, please take a moment to read it and pass it along. Help us in the fight against autism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;Dear Family and Friends,&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;As you may or may not know, several months ago I chose to leave my job as a classroom teacher to become a one-on-one behavioral therapist for children with autism. In the time that I have been working with these children I have come to view this as more that just a career, but as a passion, and I would like to share the story of one of my kids with you.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;Seana is one of five children. She and two of her brothers, who are twins, have autism. Seana is also a twin. Her twin sister and oldest brother do not have autism, however, having autistic siblings has given them a unique opportunity to be advocates for their brothers and sister as well as for other children affected with autism. Seana’s entire family is very involved in the National Alliance for Autism Research (NAAR).&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;Several years ago NAAR began a fundraising campaign, Walk Far for NAAR, a walk for families and friends of people affected by autism. These walks take place all over the country and raise millions of dollars for autism research. At this time the causes of autism are unknown and there is no cure or way in which to prevent it. Every year tens of thousands of children are born with autism, a number that has increased dramatically over the past few decades. The money raised by the NAAR walk helps families like Seana’s by giving them hope for the future, a future which, at times, may seem hopeless.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;On September 18, I will be joining Seana’s family in the Greater Boston Walk Far for NAAR. The MacLellan Miracles has raised over $40,000 in the past years and is hoping to up that total this year. As a member of their team, I’d like to ask all of you to help me reach my goal of $500. Your contribution to this worthwhile cause will help children like Seana, her brothers, and all of the other children I work with in the fight against autism. If you would like to sponsor me in the walk, you can mail cash or check (made payable to NAAR) to me at 60 Apthorp St, Quincy, MA 02170.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;Thank you for your caring and generosity!&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;Love, Meghan &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-112433426474337401?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/112433426474337401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=112433426474337401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112433426474337401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112433426474337401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/08/please-help-great-cause.html' title='Please Help a Great Cause'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-112282523117896455</id><published>2005-07-31T11:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-31T09:04:35.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, Another One</title><content type='html'>&lt;form action="'http://www.kwiz.biz/simplesurveys/do-survey.php'" method="'post'" target="'_new'"&gt;&lt;table border="1" bordercolor="#efefef" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Marital Status]&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;single&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Shoe size]&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;bigger than i would like it to be&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Parents still together]&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;yes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Siblings]&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;2, younger brother, older sister&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Pets]&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;dog- Sugar&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" align="center" valign="top"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;FAVORITES&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Color]&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;purple&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Number]&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;56 &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Animal] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;penguin, dog, cat, monkey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Drinks] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;water, coffee, margaritas&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Soda] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;diet coke&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Book] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jane Eyre&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Flower] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;roses and lilacs&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" align="center" valign="top"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;DO YOU&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Color your hair?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;sometimes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Twirl your hair?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;sometimes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Have tattoos?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;no but only cuz i'm too chicken&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Have Piercings?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;only in my ears&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Cheat on tests/homework?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;nope&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Drink/Smoke?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;drink but not smoke&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Like roller coasters?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;love 'em&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Wish you could live somewhere else?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;i like where i am now, but i'd love to live down the cape&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Want more piercings?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;nah, 7 holes is enough&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt; [Like cleaning?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;sometimes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Write in cursive or print?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;both&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Own a web cam?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;nope&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Know how to drive?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;yup&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Own a cell phone?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;of course&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Ever get off the damn computer?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;when im doing other things&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" align="center" valign="top"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;HAVE U EVER &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Been in a fist fight?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;nope&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Considered a life of crime?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;nope&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Considered being a hooker?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;no, but i was one for halloween several years ago...as i recall i made $75 that night (in play money)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Lied to someone?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;yes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Been in love?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;yes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Made out with JUST a friend?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;there may have been a couple...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Been in lust?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;yeah&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Used someone] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;does it count if you're knowingly using each other?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Been used?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;yeah&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Been cheated on?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;yup&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Kicked someone in the nuts?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;not intentionally...and it was my knee not my foot&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Stolen anything?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;one of my roomies eggs once...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Held a gun] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;nope and i dont plan to&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" align="center" valign="top"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;CURRENTS &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Current clothing] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;denim skirt and tank top&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Current mood] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;not caffeinated enough&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Current taste] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;im tasting the coffee im drinking....&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[What you currently smell like] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Love Spell&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Current hair] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;long and boring...still trying to decide how i want it cut&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Current thing I ought to be doing] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;washing my breakfast dishes before melinda gets here&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Current cd in stereo] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lifehouse&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Last book you read] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Memoirs of a Geisha&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Last movie you saw] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;i forget...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Last thing you ate] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;cinnamon toast&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Last person you talked to on the phone] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Melinda&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Do drugs?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;nope&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Believe there is life on other planets?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;i dont know&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;Remember your first love?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;yup&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Still love him/her?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;no&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Read the newspaper?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;sometimes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Have any gay or lesbian friends?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;yeah&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Believe in miracles?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;you have to in my job&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Do well in school?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;i did pretty well&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Wear hats] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;only my red sox hats&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Hate yourself?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;nope&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Have an obsession?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;i have things i feel strongly about but i wouldnt call them obsessions&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Collect anything?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;not really&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Have a best friend?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;yes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Close friends?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;yup&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Like your handwriting?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;usually&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Care about looks] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;somewhat&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" align="center" valign="top"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;LOVE LIFE&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[First crush] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;some kid in elementary school&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[First kiss] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;some guy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Do you believe in love at first sight?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;not really&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Do you believe in "the one?"] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;sort of&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Are you a tease?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;apparently, though i never thought of myself that way&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Too shy to make the first move?] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;usually&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" align="center" valign="top"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;ARE U A&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Daydreamer] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;yes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt; [Bitch/Asshole] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;i suppose i can be&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[sarcastic] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;yeah&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Angel] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;of course ;)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Devil] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;who me?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Shy] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;with people i dont know&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;[Talkative] &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;with people that know me really well&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" align="center"&gt;&lt;input value="'Take" type="'submit'"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/%27http://www.kwiz.biz/simplesurveys/create-survey.php%27"&gt;CREATE YOUR OWN!&lt;/a&gt; - or - &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/%27http://www.kwiz.biz/simplesurveys/paid-surveys.php%27"&gt;GET PAID TO TAKE SURVEYS!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-112282523117896455?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/112282523117896455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=112282523117896455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112282523117896455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112282523117896455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/07/yes-another-one.html' title='Yes, Another One'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-112275926416972601</id><published>2005-07-30T17:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-30T14:38:45.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lyrical Musings</title><content type='html'>I use song lrics alot as my away messages and I choose them based on what they make me think of, people or memories that I associate them with. As much as I enjoy sharing them on IM, there are so many that I cant always do so. Here are some highlights...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;People:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lifehouse, Everything: How could it be any better than this, you calm the storms, you give me rest, you hold me in your hands, you wont let me fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rent: How do you leave the past behind when it keeps finding ways to get to your heart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nine Days, Sometimes: Sometimes you gotta set free what you loved just to bring it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris DeBurgh, Lady in Red: I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight, I've never seen you shine so bright, you were amazing... the way you look tonight, I will never forget, the way you look tonight, the lady in red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kelly Clarkson, Beacuse of You: Because of you, I never stray to far from the sidewalk, because of you I learned to play on the safe side so I dont get hurt, because you you I find it hard to trust not only me but everyone around me, because of you I am afraid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kelly Clarkson, I hate Myself for Losing You: I hate myself for losing you, what do you do when you look in a mirror and staring back at you is why he's not here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kelly Clarkson, You Found Me: You found me when no one else was looking, how did you know just where I would be? You broke through all of my confusion, the ups and the downs and you still didnt leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Life:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lifehouse, Somewhere in Between: I am waiting for tonight then waiting for tomorrow and I'm somewhere in between what is real and just a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rent, Seasons of Love: Its time now to sing out, tho' the story never ends, lets celebrate, remember a year in the life of friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kermit, Rainbow Connection: Who said that every wish would be heard and answered when wished on a morning star?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An American Tale, Somewhere Out There: Somewhere out there, beneath a pale moonlight, someone's thinking of me and loving me tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John Lennon, Love: Love is free, free is love, love is living, living love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alanis Morissette, Precious Illusions: These precious illusions in my head did not let me down when I was defenseless, and parting with them is like parting with invisible best friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bette Midler, Wind Beneath My Wings: It might have appeared to go unnoticed, but I've got it all here in my heart. I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it. I would be nothing without you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Past:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sesame Street, One Small Voice: One small voice can teach the world a song, start with one small voice til another joins along, and you can feel the music growing full and sure and strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenny Loggins, Return to Pooh Corner: Believe me if you can, I've finally come back to the house at Pooh Corner by one. What do you know, theres so much to be done: count all the bees in the hive, chase all the clouds from the sky. Back to the days of Christopher Robin and Pooh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Billy Joel, She's Got a Way: She's got a smile that heals me, I dont know why it is, but I have to laugh when she reveals me. Shes got a way about her, I dont know what it is, but I know that I cant live without her any way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-112275926416972601?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/112275926416972601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=112275926416972601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112275926416972601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112275926416972601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/07/lyrical-musings.html' title='Lyrical Musings'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-112165720137244931</id><published>2005-07-17T23:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-17T20:26:41.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Little Quiz Thingy</title><content type='html'>Woohoo! I beat my sister....sorry Jen teehee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width="350" align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bg align="center" style="color:#FFF774;"&gt;&lt;span style="'color:black;font-family:Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your IQ Is 135&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFCCA"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.quizdiva.net/iq/iq.gif" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Logical Intelligence is &lt;b&gt;Genius&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Verbal Intelligence is &lt;b&gt;Genius&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Mathematical Intelligence is &lt;b&gt;Genius&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your General Knowledge is &lt;b&gt;Exceptional&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/quickanddirtyiqtest/"&gt;A Quick and Dirty IQ Test&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-112165720137244931?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/112165720137244931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=112165720137244931' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112165720137244931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/112165720137244931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/07/fun-little-quiz-thingy.html' title='Fun Little Quiz Thingy'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-111749739732943224</id><published>2005-05-30T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T16:56:37.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanted to Share....</title><content type='html'>I came across this as I was cleaning out my email today, and I thought it was fitting for Memorial Day. Enjoy, and think carefully as you read through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;pre&gt;IF I KNEW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I knew it would be the last time&lt;br /&gt;That I'd see you fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;I would tuck you in more tightly&lt;br /&gt;and pray the Lord, your soul to keep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I knew it would be the last time&lt;br /&gt;that I see you walk out the door,&lt;br /&gt;I would give you a hug and kiss&lt;br /&gt;and call you back for one more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I knew it would be the last time&lt;br /&gt;I'd hear your voice lifted up in praise,&lt;br /&gt;I would video tape each action and word&lt;br /&gt;so I could play them back day after day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I knew it would be the last time&lt;br /&gt;I could spare an extra minute,&lt;br /&gt;to stop and say "I LOVE YOU"&lt;br /&gt;instead of assuming you would know I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I knew it would be the last time&lt;br /&gt;I would be there to share your day,&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm sure you'll have so many more,&lt;br /&gt;so I can let just this one slip away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For surely there's always tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;to make up for an oversight,&lt;br /&gt;and we always get a second chance&lt;br /&gt;to make everything just right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There will always be another day&lt;br /&gt;to say "I love you",&lt;br /&gt;And certainly there's another chance&lt;br /&gt;to say our "anything I can do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But just in case I might be wrong&lt;br /&gt;and today is all I get,&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to say how much I love you&lt;br /&gt;and I hope we never forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is not promised to anyone,&lt;br /&gt;young or old alike,&lt;br /&gt;And today may be the last chance&lt;br /&gt;you get to hold your loved one tight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you're waiting for tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;why not do it today?&lt;br /&gt;For if tomorrow never comes,&lt;br /&gt;you'll surely regret the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That you didn't take extra time&lt;br /&gt;for a smile, a hug, or a kiss&lt;br /&gt;and you were too busy to grant someone,&lt;br /&gt;what turned out to be their one last wish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So hold your loved ones close today&lt;br /&gt;and whisper in their ear,&lt;br /&gt;Tell them how much you love them&lt;br /&gt;and that you'll always hold them dear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take time to say "I'm sorry,"&lt;br /&gt;"Please forgive me," "Thank You," or "It's OK"&lt;br /&gt;And if tomorrow never comes,&lt;br /&gt;you'll have no regrets about today.&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-111749739732943224?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/111749739732943224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=111749739732943224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/111749739732943224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/111749739732943224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/05/wanted-to-share.html' title='Wanted to Share....'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-111656054403233651</id><published>2005-05-19T23:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-19T20:42:24.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Allow Me Some Rambling</title><content type='html'>So much for writing more often.... btw, thank you SO much for "making me feel like less of a loser." I love how you guys all read this and see my lame survey thing and see my plea for someone, anyone, to do it so I'm not the only one who does them!! (no, im not serious, my self- esteem has not been diminished just because no one will venture to comment on anything I write even though I know you guys are reading)&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, nothing much has changed. I stopped by the daycare center last week to visit the kids who were SO excited, but I missed Tina by two days-she had the baby early. And even though I've been gone for almost 2 months, they still have not found a replacement. The kindergarten teacher asked me if I was looking for a job...and she wasnt kidding. And she hated me! One of my favorite little guys from my first class (I know teachers arent supposed to have favorites, but everyone knows they do!) was wicked happy (Eek the Bostonian in me is coming through!) and I told the kids I needed hugs before I left and he wouldnt hug me at first and one of the other kids said that it was because he thought that if he didnt hug me I would stay... he finally did give me a hug though (actually, jumped into my arms nearly knocking me over is more like it).&lt;br /&gt;Work is still great but my schedule is about to change and could get very chaotic due in part to a lack of communication between my supervisors but mostly because of parents wanting to add hours.&lt;br /&gt;And I'm suddenly feeling very old cuz I found out that a kid I used to babysit for is getting married. How scary is that? Granted she wasnt much younger than me when I was babysitting for her, but still! It was bad when the kids I babysat for started becoming babysitters themselves...worse when they went to high school and college... but now they're starting to get married? How is this even possible! I'm not that old! And I will find a way to stay 24 cuz the thought of turning 25 totally freaks me out. I dont want to be a quarter of a century old. I'm not having anymore birthdays! And no, this isnt the mudslides talking. Hey, what can I say- after spending an hour looking at drink-related decor for our dining room we felt the need for some real drinks. And in case you were wondering, its all tasteful drink related stuff...no frat house neon beer signs for us!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-111656054403233651?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/111656054403233651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=111656054403233651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/111656054403233651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/111656054403233651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/05/allow-me-some-rambling.html' title='Allow Me Some Rambling'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-111453699154762914</id><published>2005-04-26T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-26T10:36:31.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Waste of Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" &gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hey, I promised to write more often and I had lots of free time cuz one of my cases was cancelled for today. Then again, I also wasnt expecting to spend half an hour on this! But enjoy and if you feel the need to waste time too, copy it and leave yours in the comments section-make me feel like less of a loser for doing these things!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                                                                                                                                                            &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Full Name: Meghan Elizabeth Coughlin&lt;br /&gt;Nickname: Meg&lt;br /&gt;Age: 24&lt;br /&gt;Born in: Boston, MA&lt;br /&gt;Live in: Quincy,  MA&lt;br /&gt;Grade: n/a&lt;br /&gt;Height: 5'10"&lt;br /&gt;Clothing size: yeah like anyone would actually answer this one                                                  And jeans: ditto&lt;br /&gt;Hair: dark brown with some fake reddish thats starting to grow out... I need a hair appointment!&lt;br /&gt;Eyes: hazel&lt;br /&gt;Piercings: 7 holes altogether, only in my ears&lt;br /&gt;Tattoos: none but mostly just cuz i'm terrified of needles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Favorites&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Color: purple&lt;br /&gt;Number: 56... yeah its weird and I dont know why&lt;br /&gt;Drink: strawberry margarita&lt;br /&gt;Candy:  anything with peanut butter and chocolate&lt;br /&gt;Sport: baseball- GO SOX!&lt;br /&gt;TV show: Desperate Housewives, Survivor, House, Exteme Makeover:Home Edition (someone I know might be on!!), Friends (got 'em all on DVD)&lt;br /&gt;Movie: When Harry Met Sally&lt;br /&gt;Cartoon: I dont watch any... but Animaniacs rocked when it was on!&lt;br /&gt;Restaurant: Bertuccis, Applebees&lt;br /&gt;Ice cream: mint chocolate chip or Ben &amp; Jerrys PB Cup&lt;br /&gt;Game: trivial pursuit, truth or dare jenga if its a party&lt;br /&gt;Band: way too many to mention!&lt;br /&gt;Scent: Yankee Candle Midsummer's Night, Love Spell&lt;br /&gt;Day of the week: Friday or Saturday&lt;br /&gt;Month: June&lt;br /&gt;Season: Summer&lt;br /&gt;Holiday: Christmas&lt;br /&gt;Store: NY and Co, Old Navy, AC Moore&lt;br /&gt;Shoes: depends on where im going, but I think I have a serious flipflop addiction... is 6 pairs over the top?&lt;br /&gt;Jeans:  NY and Co boot cut&lt;br /&gt;Pizza: broccolli or pepperoni&lt;br /&gt;Sub: meatball or chicken parm&lt;br /&gt;Song: right now- white houses, collide, somewhere only we know&lt;br /&gt;School subject:  English,              psychology&lt;br /&gt;Animal: for a pet- cat or dog, non-pet- penguin&lt;br /&gt;Magazine: lovin' my cosmo&lt;br /&gt;Catalog:  Creative Irish Gifts, Victoria's Secret, Lakeshore&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Potato chip: baked lays or pringles, sour cream and onion&lt;br /&gt;Cheese: well what am I putting the cheese on? I cant pick one general cheese. And what kind of a question is this anyway?&lt;br /&gt;CD:  there are alot so I wont bore you with all of them                          &lt;wbr&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;Jell-O: cherry, preferably in shot form                          &lt;wbr&gt;               &lt;br /&gt;Cereal - crispix&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This/That&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pepsi/Coke: i dont usually drink soda, but if i do its diet coke                   &lt;wbr&gt;                                        &lt;wbr&gt;  Pen/Pencil: pen, preferably purple if i can get away with it&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate/Vanilla: chocolate&lt;br /&gt;Sweet/Sour: sweet&lt;br /&gt;Sugar/Spice: for what exactly? Thats another impossible to answer question!&lt;br /&gt;Day/Night: depends on my mood&lt;br /&gt;Rap/Rock: rock&lt;br /&gt;Pool/Beach: beach&lt;br /&gt;Cuddle/Kiss: why do I have to choose just one?&lt;br /&gt;Boxers/Briefs: boxers&lt;br /&gt;Love/Lust: love, but both have their advantages ;)&lt;br /&gt;Cat/Dog: i think i want a cat next... of course that would require moving somewhere that allows pets and having a roomie who's not allergic, so it'll be awhile and its very possible that I'll change my mind a few hundred times between then and now&lt;br /&gt;PB/Jelly: peanut              butter&lt;br /&gt;Hamburger/Hotdog:              hamburger&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;                                        &lt;wbr&gt;                                        &lt;wbr&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;Righty/Lefty:righty&lt;br /&gt;Bikini/One Piece: on me? I'd rather not wear either                           &lt;wbr&gt;                                        &lt;wbr&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;Flip Flops/Tennis Shoes: its all about the flip flops!&lt;br /&gt;Real World/Road Rules: neither&lt;br /&gt;McDonalds/Burger King: wendys&lt;br /&gt;Cheese/Crackers: both&lt;wbr&gt;       &lt;br /&gt;Top/Bottom: who really wants to know this?&lt;br /&gt;Truth/Dare: truth&lt;br /&gt;Single/Taken: single and still holding out on a red sox player (it doesnt matter which one, or I'll gladly take Theo Epstein!)&lt;br /&gt;Innie/Outtie: innie&lt;br /&gt;Sing/Dance: sing if no one is around to hear me (except at work when I kinda have to!)&lt;br /&gt;Early/Late: me, or someone else? and to where? or for what? who comes up with these??&lt;br /&gt;Pink/Purple: purple&lt;br /&gt;Girls/Boys: all depends on what i'm doing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;               &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Firsts              &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                                                      &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Real crush: some kid                                  &lt;wbr&gt;                  &lt;br /&gt;Boyfriend:   random guy i met at a coffee shop                                &lt;wbr&gt;                                        &lt;wbr&gt;             Kiss:   does being chased around the bus stop being kissed in kindergarten count?                 True love: different guy than the coffee shop one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;               &lt;p&gt;Yes I was being intentionally vague on those, why do you ask?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lasts&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Person you talked to on the phone: one of my supervisors&lt;br /&gt;Person you spent the night              with: doing what ;)&lt;br /&gt;Person you              hugged: Seana       &lt;wbr&gt;                                        &lt;wbr&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;Person you kissed: Seana (shes a very affectionate little girl!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Person you danced with: Seana...gotta love the Hokey Pokey&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;Time you cried: probably while watching Extreme Makeover:Home Edition                                 Movie you saw @ the theater: how bad is it that I cant remember?&lt;br /&gt;TV show you watched: CSI rerun&lt;br /&gt;Dinner out: Chilis  couple days ago&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;                  &lt;wbr&gt;                                        &lt;wbr&gt;       &lt;br /&gt;Concert you went to: Almost Speechless (yeah its been awhile!)&lt;br /&gt;Thing you ate: rice krispy treat&lt;br /&gt;Thing you drank: lemonade&lt;br /&gt;Thing you bought: stamps&lt;br /&gt;Time you showered: this              morning&lt;br /&gt;Roller coaster you rode: yankee cannonball at canobie lake i think                       &lt;wbr&gt;                   &lt;br /&gt;Shoes worn: white              sneakers&lt;br /&gt;Person you saw naked (besides yourself): why do you want to know?&lt;br /&gt;Person you did something illegal              with: umm... I think I'll plead the 5th&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do              you…&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smoke: no&lt;br /&gt;Drink: sure&lt;br /&gt;Hate yourself: no&lt;br /&gt;Believe in love: yes&lt;br /&gt;Have a crush: doesnt everyone? I heart Johnny Damon!&lt;br /&gt;Go to church: yes&lt;br /&gt;Wish on stars: sometimes... still wishing for Johnny!                            &lt;wbr&gt;                                        &lt;wbr&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;Believe in miracles: with my job, its impossible not to&lt;br /&gt;Exercise: not as much as I should unless you count work&lt;br /&gt;Sing in the shower:nope                           &lt;wbr&gt;                                        &lt;wbr&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;Make the first move:              sometimes&lt;br /&gt;Play in the rain: if its not too cold and i'm with a kid (or a kid at heart)&lt;br /&gt;Believe in love at first sight: i havent seen it, but that doesnt mean it doesnt happen&lt;br /&gt;Bite your              fingernails: I try not to              &lt;wbr&gt;                                    &lt;wbr&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Keep a journal: yeah, you're reading it&lt;br /&gt;Get motion sickness: not usually&lt;br /&gt;Want to get married:  not right now&lt;br /&gt;Plan to go to college:  i'll go back sometime for an ABA degree once i'm more settled with work, especially since they'll pay part of it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you              ever…&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Broken a bone: no&lt;br /&gt;Been in a fight: a physical one? not really&lt;br /&gt;Gotten drunk: umm, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Had your heart broken:              yes&lt;br /&gt;Broken someone's heart: yes&lt;br /&gt;Stolen something: i took one of my roomie's eggs once... does that count?&lt;br /&gt;Lied to someone you love:              yes&lt;br /&gt;Been to band camp: im such a geek- yeah, but it was for colorguard not an instrument. And this one time, at band camp....&lt;br /&gt;Rode on a fire truck:              no&lt;br /&gt;Skipped school: yes&lt;br /&gt;Been in an accident:              yes&lt;br /&gt;Traveled to a foreign              country: no&lt;br /&gt;Written a poem for the person you love:               no&lt;br /&gt;Spun in circles until you got dizzy and              fell down: yes but not since i was little. if I did it now i'd probably be committed&lt;br /&gt;Cried at a movie:              yes&lt;br /&gt;Been to a funeral:  yes&lt;br /&gt;Swam in the ocean:  yes&lt;br /&gt;Almost died:  no&lt;br /&gt;Kissed someone of the same sex: not in the way you're thinking!                                      &lt;wbr&gt;                &lt;br /&gt;Failed a grade in school:              no&lt;br /&gt;Ran away from home: no&lt;br /&gt;Had a black eye: yes&lt;br /&gt;Had braces: no&lt;br /&gt;Had surgery: no&lt;br /&gt;Worn glasses: no&lt;br /&gt;Been suspended from school:              no, but WSC used to threaten it every other semester or so cuz they kept losing my health records &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who Is…&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cutest boy you know: Joey&lt;br /&gt;The prettiest girl you know:  i dunno, there are lots                          &lt;wbr&gt;                    &lt;br /&gt;Your loudest friend: umm... apparently Erica and I talk pretty loudly in the morning when Adam is trying to sleep...                             &lt;wbr&gt;                 &lt;br /&gt;Your nicest friend: I cant pick just one, but Erica, Miranda and JT are right up there&lt;br /&gt;Your funniest friend: Depends on the situation&lt;br /&gt;Your most hyper friend: I'm gonna let that one by so I dont get in trouble!&lt;br /&gt;The person that knows you              best: probably Erica or Anthony&lt;br /&gt;Your friend you've known the              longest: Sarah&lt;br /&gt;Your friend that's like family:  Erica&lt;br /&gt;The friend you would trust the most with              your secrets: Erica or Gino&lt;br /&gt;Your best girl friend: Erica&lt;br /&gt;Your best boy friend: Anthony&lt;br /&gt;Your friend that nurtures you the              most: Erica does my dishes sometimes, does that count?&lt;br /&gt;Your friend that gets in the most              trouble: Nope, not answering, he'll kill me!&lt;br /&gt;Your craziest friend: Again, it depends on the situation, its usually Erica but thats partly because I'm around her more so I see more of her crazy side than anyone else!               &lt;wbr&gt;          Your friend that lives the closest to              you: Erica lives two bedrooms away!&lt;br /&gt;Your friend that lives the farthest from              you: I think its Anthony right now....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&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/8631559-111453699154762914?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/111453699154762914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=111453699154762914' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/111453699154762914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/111453699154762914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/04/fun-waste-of-time.html' title='Fun Waste of Time'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-111448376599889577</id><published>2005-04-25T22:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-25T19:49:26.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its Official</title><content type='html'>Thats right, as of this week, I officially have a full-time schedule...but I could still add more cases or hours if needed. I've hardly thought about the daycare center since I left, though I'll probably go back one of these days to visit the kids and the few staff members I like that are still there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really should be writing in this more often. I'm one of those people who always reads other people's blogs and gets annoyed when there's nothing new written... which is usually followed by my realizing that I havent written anything in mine in over a month. I do the same thing with away messages on IM. I love reading what people say but I hardly ever leave them messages, and then I wonder why I dont have any messages on mine. I know its a double standard or something, but whatever, I'll try to stop :-) Then however, when I do decide to post anything, I sit down and realize I have nothing all that interesting to say. Who really wants to read about my job constantly? I love it and am very passionate about it, but most people dont understand it, or they try to but cant because they arent expereincing it firsthand. Or some, like one person in particular, disagree with what I'm doing, for whatever ridiculous reason, and use it as an excuse to avoid me altogether. Or maybe my job has nothing to do with it, maybe there's something else she's mad at me for that I dont know about. She's probably not one of the people reading this though, but I wouldnt know since any comments I get are in person or email rather than in the "comments" section... thats why its there, people! I know, I know, I dont leave many comments for other people either, which is what this ramble started with....at least I think it did...and now I have absolutely no recollection of the original intention of this post.... hmm... new subject....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so I was really bored the other day and started wandering around the internet. I started by looking for new quotes for my away messages and somehow ended up looking up old tv shows that I remember from when I was little, starting with Pinwheel on Nickelodeon. I found a couple of cool websites about the origins of the channel and how Pinwheel was what really got it started, along with other shows that came along afterwards, like Today's Special, Special Delivery, Picture Pages, The Little Prince and You Cant Do that on Television. The more I read the more I remembered and it was so much fun to look back at clips and storylines of all those old shows. Nickelodeon pretty much sucks now. It was so much cooler when I was little before they started with all the lame "nicktoons" and other shows they have now. And I've now had the theme song from Pinwheel stuck in my head for two days! And since I've always believed that the best way to get a song out of your head is by getting it stuck in someone else's head, I now present to you....&lt;br /&gt;The Pinwheel Theme Song!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pinwheel, pinwheel, spinning around. Look at            my Pinwheel and see what I've found.&lt;br /&gt;          Pinwheel, pinwheel, where have you been? Hello, how are you, and may            I come in?&lt;br /&gt;          Pinwheel, pinwheel, spinning around. Look at my pinwheel and see what            I found.&lt;br /&gt;          Pinwheel, pinwheel, breezy and bright. Spin me good morning, spin me            good night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-111448376599889577?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/111448376599889577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=111448376599889577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/111448376599889577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/111448376599889577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/04/its-official.html' title='Its Official'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-111222652875384351</id><published>2005-03-30T18:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-30T15:48:48.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mixed Emotions</title><content type='html'>Today was my last day at the center. I've been waiting for it for months, but now that its happened, I'm actually really sad about it. As difficult as the kids were, I'm really going to miss them. And I made some great friends among the staff. I managed to make it through all the goodbyes without crying, which I didnt think I would be able to do, but as soon as I got in my car and started to pull away, the tears started flowing. I spent almost  2 years there, and even with all issues, I'm still going to miss it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-111222652875384351?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/111222652875384351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=111222652875384351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/111222652875384351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/111222652875384351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/03/mixed-emotions.html' title='Mixed Emotions'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-111155356311696858</id><published>2005-03-22T23:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T20:52:43.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No More Crappy Job!</title><content type='html'>First thing this morning I got a call regarding a new case, which I'll be starting next week. So...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I got to the center I gave my notice. A week from tomorrow will be my last day there.... FOREVER! I'm so unbelievably excited. I cant wait to get out of there. I'll miss the kids alot though, and I plan on using all my free time for the next week making cards for all the kids in my class now and the kids who were in my class last year. It's going to be hard to leave them, but honestly, I just need to do it. I still wont have a full forty hour work week yet, but I'll be close enough that I can still pay my bills without having to dip into my savings, and hopefully the other case I'm up for will come through in the next couple weeks as well. My boss seemed fine when I told her, but not long afterwards she snapped at someone else for no apparent reason, other than that next week is her last week too. (And apparently, another teacher is just waiting to hear back on a job she applied for and then she'll be giving her notice too). Its a good thing that they finally decided to advertise the openings... but seriously, it took 4 months!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'M DONE!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-111155356311696858?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/111155356311696858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=111155356311696858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/111155356311696858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/111155356311696858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/03/no-more-crappy-job.html' title='No More Crappy Job!'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-111144880578392938</id><published>2005-03-21T18:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-21T15:46:45.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates and a Rant</title><content type='html'>I know its been awhile... and no I havent died! Things are still going great with the new job (well, its not that new anymore). My little friend is still making fabulous progress and her school system agreed to give me two more hours per week with her, and I'm working on a new case with another wonderful little girl. Sometime in the next few weeks I should be picking up two more cases, which will give me enough hours to FINALLY quit the old job. It cant happen soon enough. I swear that place gets worse and worse everyday.&lt;br /&gt;However, thats actually not what's annoying me right now.... I know, amazing isnt it? Actually, I'm shocked at how little common courtesy people can have. I dont understand how some people can be so completely selfish and not even realize that they're hurting people in the process. How difficult is it, really, to make a phone call or leave a note? It seems like some people are just so caught up in their little worlds that they dont see what they're doing to other people, especially when the same thing keeps happening over and over again. I'm not one to confront people, but there are times when I just dont know how much longer I can keep quiet when I see these things happening. There are certain unwritten rules, and to continuously break them takes a real toll on the relationship.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-111144880578392938?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/111144880578392938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=111144880578392938' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/111144880578392938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/111144880578392938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/03/updates-and-rant.html' title='Updates and a Rant'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-110878026013912795</id><published>2005-02-18T21:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-18T18:31:00.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Miracles</title><content type='html'>Small miracles dont exist- all miracles are huge. I witnessed one today. I went to work as usual for a session with my awesome little friend that I've been working with since I started the new job. She's been making alot of progress in the past few months, and we're always so excited when she does something new. But none of us were prepared for what happened today. This little girl, who up until recently had been completely nonverbal, not even making any sounds til she started getting services two years ago, TALKED. Not just a word here and there, but actual, complete, clear sentences. It was as though she woke us this morning and something had just clicked in her brain. All day she was saying "I want candy (or juice, popcorn, ketchup)" with no prompting whatsoever. When I got to her house today, everyone was already in a frenzy about what she had been saying. And she was obviously very happy. Then she decided to shock us even more. While she was singing her favorite song, Old MacDonald, which for her usually consists of the tune, but no words other than the "EIEIO" part, started filling in the words of the song. When she said "everywhere" we lost it- three adults: her mother, another therapist, and myself, were literally jumping for joy. We were screaming, her mother was crying (we were pretty close ourselves as well) and she was standing there, watching us with a huge smile on her face as if to say "Hey, look what I can do now!" Later, after the other therapist left and I was working alone with her, she was singing her other favorite, Twinkle, Twinkle, and for the first time since I've known her, she sang the words "Twinkle twinkle little star" clear as a bell. It was the most amazing thing I have ever witnessed. Even now, hours later, I'm still high as a kite from the experience. I actually got goosebumps listening to her today. I think I have the only job in the world where a four year old can reduce three adults to tears simply by saying "everywhere." I love it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-110878026013912795?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/110878026013912795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=110878026013912795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110878026013912795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110878026013912795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/02/miracles.html' title='Miracles'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-110852075888278753</id><published>2005-02-15T21:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T18:25:58.886-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tis the Season...</title><content type='html'>... the baseball season that is! Last week I went to redsox.com and entered the drawing for special ticket purchase opportunites, using each of my email addresses in hopes that one of them would be picked. Lo and behold, BOTH were!! This Saturday I can purchase up to 8 tickets (4 per drawing) to see the Sox play the Yankees in Fenway!! I'm so excited!! I'm hoping to get weekend games, but even if I dont I'm getting all 8 tickets and I'll figure out later who to give them to....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So be really really nice to me!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-110852075888278753?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/110852075888278753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=110852075888278753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110852075888278753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110852075888278753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/02/tis-season.html' title='Tis the Season...'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-110645447838213151</id><published>2005-01-22T23:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-22T20:27:58.383-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blizzard</title><content type='html'>Work like you dont need the money,&lt;br /&gt;Dance as if no one were watching,&lt;br /&gt;Love like you've never been hurt,&lt;br /&gt;And live every day as if it were your last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old title of the blog seemed so mundane, I had to think of something else.  And what better time than in the middle of a blizzard? Actually, I planned on changing it awhile ago, after coming across this saying for the millionth time. It has always been one of my favorites, I've just been so busy lately that I havent had time to post. Then, while looking for the longer text of the poem online (I know it exists somewhere cuz I've seen it, but I cant find it now), the link that took me to this quote fit perfectly:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life.  But there was always some obstacle  in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business,  time still to be served, a debt to be paid.   Then life would begin.  At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life."&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This perspective has helped me to see that there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way.  So, treasure every  moment that you have.  And treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time...  and remember that time waits for no one...&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So stop waiting until you finish school, until you go back to school, until you lose ten pounds, until you gain ten pounds, until you have kids, until your kids leave the house, until you start work, until you retire, until you get married, until you get divorced, until Friday night, until Sunday morning, until you get a new car or home, until your car or home is paid off, until spring, until summer, until fall, until winter, until you are off welfare, until the first or fifteenth, until your song comes on, until you've had a drink, until you've sobered up, until you die, until you are born again to decide that there is no better time than right now to be happy...&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Happiness is a journey, not a destination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-110645447838213151?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/110645447838213151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=110645447838213151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110645447838213151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110645447838213151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/01/blizzard.html' title='Blizzard'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-110602025310836246</id><published>2005-01-17T22:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-17T19:50:53.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How quickly you forget...</title><content type='html'>And no, I'm not talking about posting, I do realize its been awhile. Quick update- the car is totalled, I'm getting a new one in a few days, old job still sucks, and new job is still fabulous.&lt;br /&gt;However, I realized tonight that I've forgotten so much of what I learned in high school, and even college! A friend came over tonight to get help with math for a class she's taking. I dont know why she thought I would actually be able to help her, since math was never my strong point, but I said I would do what I could. I looked at the practice problems, and they were all things that I know I learned, and I know I was fairly good at- like factoring, square roots, other trig/pre-calc stuff. And I remembered learning all those things, and doing hundreds of problems like them, but I cannot for the life of me remember HOW to do them. Its so frustrating!!As I was reading them, bits and pieces of what I was supposed to do were coming back, but not the whole thing, which made it even more frustrating. Its only been 4 years since my last math class- it should not be this difficult! Maybe I'm getting senile already...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-110602025310836246?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/110602025310836246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=110602025310836246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110602025310836246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110602025310836246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2005/01/how-quickly-you-forget.html' title='How quickly you forget...'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-110385376820039090</id><published>2004-12-23T21:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-23T18:02:48.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas</title><content type='html'>    For the second time in less than two months, I was in an accident on my way home from work, this time because the other driver ran a stop sign. My poor car is now at the shop and its hard to tell whether or not it can be fixed. Luckily I'm fine, just extremely shaken up. There are many things for which its good to have first-hand experience. Finding out that your airbags work is not one of them. However, I'm very thankful that they worked, otherwise I probably would not be sitting at home writing this.&lt;br /&gt;    But anyway, I hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-110385376820039090?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/110385376820039090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=110385376820039090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110385376820039090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110385376820039090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-110326041908798388</id><published>2004-12-16T23:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-16T21:36:37.773-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Still around...</title><content type='html'>Wow, I didnt realize how long it had been since I updated. Things have just been kinda crazy between the jobs, birthday stuff, Christmas stuff, STILL looking for a third roomate... I pretty much just get home and.... ok, is it really bad that I'm not even sure what I'm doing in my free time? Hopefully things will get settled pretty soon. The roomate search is moving, but slowly. I'm almost done with my Christmas shopping and most of the wrapping, and I even got all my Christmas cards mailed (completely handcrafted, by the way, and very good if I do say so myself!) The birthday stuff is over, except for the other half of the cake thats still in the freezer at work because there was no room in the freezer here with the other cake....sugar high, anyone? And even though the old job still completely sucks and I dont know how much longer I can take it, the new job is fabulous. I love it so much. I still only have one case (which would be the reason why I'm still at the crappy job) but they're working on getting more for me, and I absolutely love the one I have. She is so sweet and cute and loveable, and even though she cant communicate the way most people do, we have a great rapport. The BE on the case (one step above me) has been saying since I started that this little girl and I have a great relationship, and this week my supervisor came out to observe and said that same thing, and he also told her mother that he's really impressed with me- and she agreed! Yay!! I'm so excited. Not just because I want the kid to like me (which, obviously is also important) but because she has a history of being very picky about who she interacts with. She has a very strong will, and if she doesnt like someone she will absolutely refuse to work with them, which doesnt help her at all. But for whatever reason, she and I just clicked. She's always happy to see me, and she does things with me that she refuses to do with anyone else, even the people she loves. Its having a great impact on her own development and learning. In the short time we've been together, she has made strides that no one ever expected.&lt;br /&gt;It is so rewarding to see her doing things that no one thought she would ever be able to do, and to know that I had something to do with it. I cant even begin to describe how amazing it is to see this little girl accomplish so much, knowing that I helped her to do that. And I know that things arent always this good and that I may have kids that I cant reach but its her little victories that make it so worthwhile. I only wish I had known about this opportunity sooner- I really believe that this is was I was meant to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-110326041908798388?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/110326041908798388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=110326041908798388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110326041908798388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110326041908798388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/12/still-around.html' title='Still around...'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-110204831644700341</id><published>2004-12-02T23:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-03T16:21:14.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Revenge of the Boss</title><content type='html'>Ok, well I've gone a few weeks without a good rant-I was about due :-)&lt;br /&gt;Everything at the new job is going fabulously- I absolutely love it. However, since I don't yet have a full caseload, and still dont know when I will have one, I'm still working part-time at the old one. Ever since I told my boss I was leaving, I've been waiting for her to find a way to get back at me... that's just what she does. But its in a very passive-aggressive way. Today I got my first taste of her revenge on me. I was originally supposed to have a morning case session, then go the the center for the rest of the day, but the session was cancelled, so I told the boss I could work a full day. I should have just enjoyed having a morning off, but I could use the money. So I went to work this morning, and right after I got there the boss came in and told me that she needed me to work in preschool that day because one of the toddler teachers would be working in my room because she hurt her back and couldnt lift the toddlers, and one of the preschool teachers was out. It made no sense whatsoever, because preschool still had two teachers, and she could have just sent the toddler teacher down there anyway. But she seemed to think it was better to send me, thus upsetting my kids who miss having me there, and annoying both me and the other teachers involved, because it was completely unnecessary to involve us in any way. So I spent my morning in the preschool classroom. Then while I was back in my own room covering they're breaks, I got a call from one of the preschool teachers. She was supposed to go into kindergarten for the afternoon because that teacher was leaving early, but instead she was going to send me because she didnt want to go, and because the preschool kids were crazy that day and apparently she didnt think I could handle it (let me tell you, I was handling them a hell of a lot better than she was- I will never understand how she got to be a teacher). So I spent the afternoon with the kids I had last year- which I do enjoy, but it was a matter of principle.&lt;br /&gt;The other big to-do at work was about the teacher who was out sick. She had called and said she needed to go to the doctor because she has had neck problems and it was acting up. She first thought she would just come in late, but then decided she was in too much pain to work today. Well the boss's new thing lately is to call certain people when they are out sick "just to see how they're doing" but its obvious that she does it only to the ones that she thinks are faking (which, granted, has been happening alot there since we're so fed up with her). So she called the teacher, but didnt get an answer, so she came and asked the preschool teacher for her cell phone number- which she gave her without a second thought to the total invasion of privacy. Then, instead of calling her cell, she (from the bits and pieces we picked up from various people) called her and asked what she had been treated for and what kind of medication they had put her on. Ummm, can we say COMPLETELY ILLEGAL?  She told her that she needed a letter from the doctor to justify the teachers' absence- also total bullshit because our regs state that we need a note only if we are out for three consecutive days. So one of the other teachers called the sick teacher when the bitchy teacher left on her break, and the sick teacher was absolutely livid. She already said she isnt coming in tomorrow, but honestly, I would be shocked if she came back at all. If it were me I would seriously consider quitting on the spot, screw the two weeks' notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People think I'm exaggerating when I tell stories about this place. There are days when I really wish that were the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just another little tidbit to spice up today even more... one of the kindergarten kids was leaving early for a dentist appointment, and his mom was telling his teacher about how bad his teeth were, and that she thought maybe it was because she breast-fed him until he was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;four&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;years old&lt;/span&gt;. EWW! How creepy is that? That means that this kid was still breast-feeding when he was in my class last year- Thank god I didnt know that then. I dont think I would be able to look at the kid without shuddering. I mean seriously, who does that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-110204831644700341?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/110204831644700341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=110204831644700341' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110204831644700341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110204831644700341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/12/revenge-of-boss.html' title='Revenge of the Boss'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-110118296966915218</id><published>2004-11-22T23:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-22T20:09:29.670-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Daffodil Pinciple</title><content type='html'>Several years ago, someone sent me this story, and of all the emails and forwards I've gotten over the years, this one is the one that I will never forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE DAFFODIL PRINCIPLE&lt;br /&gt;  Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, "Mother, you must come see the daffodils before they are over." I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead. "I will come next Tuesday, "I promised, a little reluctantly, on her third call." Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and so I drove there.  When I  finally walked into Carolyn's house and hugged and greeted my grandchildren, I said,"Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in the clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see bad enough to drive another inch!" My daughter smiled calmly and said, "We drive in this all the time, Mother."Well, you won't get me back on the road until it clears, and then I'm heading for home!" I assured her. "I was hoping you'd take me over to the garage to pick up my car." "How far will we have to drive?" "Just a few blocks," Carolyn said. "I'll drive. I'm used to this." After several minutes, I had to ask, "Where are we going? This isn't the way to the garage!" "We're going to my garage the long way," Carolyn smiled, "by way of the daffodils." "Carolyn," I said sternly, "please turn around." "It's all right, Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience." After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand-lettered sign that read, "Daffodil Garden." We got out of the car and each took a child's hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, we turned a corner of the path, and I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight. It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it down over the mountain peak and slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns-great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron, and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted as a group so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers. "But who has done this?" I asked Carolyn. "It's just one woman,"Carolyn answered. "She lives on the property. That's her home." Carolyn pointed to a well kept A-frame house that looked small and modest in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house. On the patio, we saw a poster. "Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking" was the headline. The first answer was a simple one. "50,000 bulbs,"it read. The second answer was, "One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and very little brain." The third answer was, "Began in 1958." There it was, The Daffodil Principle. &lt;br /&gt;   For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun-one bulb at a time-to bring her vision of  beauty and joy to an obscure mountain top. Still, just planting one bulb at a time, year after year, had changed the world. This unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. She had created something of ineffable (indescribable) magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration. That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time-often just one baby-step at a time- and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world.        &lt;br /&gt;   "It makes me sad in a way," I admitted to Carolyn. "What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or forty years ago and had worked away at it one bulb at a time through all those years. Just think what I might have been able to achieve!"&lt;br /&gt;  My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. "Start tomorrow," she said. It's so pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead of a cause for regret is to only ask, "How can I put this to use today?"        &lt;br /&gt;   So, stop waiting. Until your car or home is paid off. Until you get a new car or home. Until your kids leave the house. Until you go back to school. Until you finish school. Until you lose 10 lbs. Until you gain 10 lbs. Until you get married. Until you get a divorce. Until you have kids. Until you retire. Until summer. Until spring. Until winter. Until fall. Until you die.&lt;br /&gt;   There is no better time than right now to be happy. Happiness is a journey, not a destination. So work like you don't need money, Love like you've never been hurt, And dance like no one's watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-110118296966915218?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/110118296966915218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=110118296966915218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110118296966915218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110118296966915218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/11/daffodil-pinciple.html' title='The Daffodil Pinciple'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-110083702320826139</id><published>2004-11-18T23:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-18T20:03:43.210-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lovin' the New Job</title><content type='html'>I promised I wouldnt rant, and thats the last thing I want to do now. I spent the past four days training for the new job, and I LOVE it!! Its a little overwhelming right now (four days of power point presentations and paperwork) but today I got to meet the child that I'll be working with, and she is awesome. I can tell already that this is what I was meant to do. I know it wont be easy and at times I may wonder what I was thinking, but I also know that those thoughts will pass, and what I'll be left with is the unbelievable feeling of helping a child learn. That's what its all about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a related note, I was flipping channels tonight and came across a TV movie, and I immediately got hooked on it because the child in the movie was portraying her character as having autism, so I kept watching hoping to find out what movie it was. Well, about 15 minutes later (I missed the first half of the movie) I realized it was about Helen Keller and Annie Sullivan. But I was always taught that Helen Keller was blind and deaf, I dont remember ever hearing or reading that she had autism. Granted, autism as a concrete diagnosis did not exist in her time, but was there speculation later on that she was autistic? In the movie she was portrayed as blind, but I dont think she was deaf in it, because there were scenes where she was obviously listening to something. If anyone knows more about this, let me know- now I'm really curious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-110083702320826139?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/110083702320826139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=110083702320826139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110083702320826139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110083702320826139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/11/lovin-new-job.html' title='Lovin&apos; the New Job'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-110044979727649008</id><published>2004-11-14T11:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-14T08:29:57.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another rant</title><content type='html'>I never meant for this blog to be just a place for me to rant, but it seems like thats about all I'm doing with it lately. However, permit me one more and I'll try to make the next few posts a little more upbeat.&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm driving home Friday night after work, happy to be getting a break from that place, with plans to go out with my roomie when I get home. It was snowing all day, and I was thinking to myself how freaked out drivers get about it- it wasnt even sticking to the roads or affecting visibility, but all of a sudden its like people forget how to drive. So it took me alot longer than I had anticipated to home. As I'm getting off the highway, almost to my apartment, this woman runs a red light and plows right into me. I was pissed, to say the least, and was not very amiable to her, which then in turn pissed her off too, but I really didnt care. Neither of us was hurt, but I was pretty shaken up. She admitted full responsibility (well, duh). I called the police to report the accident and they said they would send someone right out. Well they never showed up. We waited for over half an hour. Since my car was drivable (just the bumper was cracked) I left after I got her information and got home an hour after I had planned to. Before I left, she said she just wanted me to know that "she didnt run the red light, she just didnt see it." Umm, HELLO? How the hell do you miss 3 bright red lights telling you to stop, not to mention that every other car in her lane was stopped? And she had her kids in the car!! How stupid can one person be? And she wonders why I was pissed at her.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I think I'm done with ranting for a little while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-110044979727649008?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/110044979727649008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=110044979727649008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110044979727649008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110044979727649008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/11/another-rant.html' title='Another rant'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-110021936213604704</id><published>2004-11-11T19:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-11T16:29:22.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Driven to drink</title><content type='html'>Why do people insist on having kids and then ship them off to daycare at every possible chance? I had 13 kids today and most of the parents did not have to work because of the holiday. One of them was actually gloating to us about how happy she was that she could drop off her kids nad spend the day on her own... even after we informed her that her child had been a pain in the ass all day (no we didnt say it that way). This same parent didnt have her kid picked up the other day when we called her to say the kid might have conjunctivitis, her explanation being that her husband was home with the baby and couldnt leave til she woke up- the baby, according to her, was still "asleep" 3 and a half hours after we called, when she finally came and got the kid herself. (Dont even get me started on the kid being in school even though Dad was home). The next day the mother brought her kid in and said she would be back later to give her the eyedrops- and she never showed up. She said she forgot... who goes to work and doesnt think of their child at least once during the day?&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the kids today were just completely out of control. Of the 13 kids, I had to send notes home to 11 of them about their behavior. It was as if we were speaking another language, or else every one of these kids has extreme hearing problems because no matter what we said or how many times we said it, we were completely ignored.&lt;br /&gt;A child in another class cut his eyeball this morning. They called his parents and told them to come get him. They then called back and said they couldnt get his a doctors appointment until 445, so they would pick him up then... and could the teachers just put some gauze on it until they got there? My boss then called them back and said we were not authorized to do that, and that the child really needed to leave because it was an unsafe situation. He got picked up at 515. No, that wasnt a typo.&lt;br /&gt;So I have to ask, why are these people parents? They obviously dont give a damn about their kids. I cant get out of there fast enough. Its really bad when the first thing you do when you walk in the door after work is have drink. And mine is just about empty, so I'm going to go get another one and sit on the couch and try to forget the entire day. Leave me some love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-110021936213604704?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/110021936213604704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=110021936213604704' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110021936213604704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110021936213604704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/11/driven-to-drink.html' title='Driven to drink'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-110013110168621604</id><published>2004-11-10T18:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-10T15:58:21.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another change of plans...</title><content type='html'>Got a call today from the new job, and it turns out that they do have a case for me after all, maybe even two. They're going to try to reschedule the training for next week even though I'm the only one who needs to do it, which means my boss is going to be mad at me again. Oh well- shes not making many friends there anymore. Today another teacher was talking to her, saying it was great that they finally hired someone to close in the toddler rooms, because right now every toddler teacher is scheduled to leave before closing, which means that every day theres a huge scramble to find coverage for that group. So the other teacher said something to the bosslady about how its a nightmare for toddlers now, and bosslady replied "Every day is a nightmare here." Hmm...way to supoprt your staff and show pride in your job huh? If she doesnt even like working there how can she expect us to? Its so sad. Also, today, queen bee in kindergarten, who thinks the rules only apply to other people, was mad about getting busted for having visitors, so she ratted out her only friend on the staff for having her cell phone on at work... even though she constantly talks on hers out on the playground. What a load of stupid high school shit. I cant get out of that place soon enough! Luckily, it now looks as though I'll be building up to a full caseload sooner than I had anticipated!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS We also found out today that we get Christmas Eve and New Years Eve off- WOOHOO!! Now we can be like normal people and not have to sit around that hellhole watching kids whose parents dont care enough to keep them home with them even though they have the day off!! See, now these issues arent even the tip of the iceberg at that place!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-110013110168621604?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/110013110168621604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=110013110168621604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110013110168621604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/110013110168621604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/11/another-change-of-plans.html' title='Another change of plans...'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-109997140528626627</id><published>2004-11-08T22:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-08T19:36:45.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Minor change of plans...</title><content type='html'>Got a call from my new job today. Unfortunately, they have to postpone next week's training because the two cases they had waiting, one for me and one for the other person who was supposed to train with me, both fell through, so now they dont know how long it will be until they will have cases for us, and they dont want us to train until we can go right out and do it. She said it shouldnt take too long... I hope she's right!&lt;br /&gt;The memo about my new job went out to the staff and parents the other day, and I didnt see most of them before I left, so I expected alot of people to ask about it today. A few of the parents did, but not as many as I expected, and most of the teachers congratulated me and wished me luck. However, a select few didnt say a word to me today- not just about the job, but about anything! Seriously. They did not speak to me, even to say hello. How immature can you get? These are &lt;em&gt;teachers&lt;/em&gt;, adults who are supposed to be setting an example for the young impressionable children in their care. Is it any wonder that I cant wait to leave that place?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-109997140528626627?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/109997140528626627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=109997140528626627' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109997140528626627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109997140528626627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/11/minor-change-of-plans.html' title='Minor change of plans...'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-109988233467528971</id><published>2004-11-07T21:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-07T18:52:14.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To support or not to support... why is this even a question?</title><content type='html'>So here I am, so excited about my new job, which I start training for next week, and I realize that not everyone shares my enthusiasm. Not that they have to, but it would be nice if they could at least &lt;em&gt;pretend&lt;/em&gt; to be happy for me! I can see why one of them reacted as he did, because I know he's just looking out for me. This job is not at all what I ever expected I would be doing, and I know he never expected it either. And I know its a big step into the unknown and that there's no guarantee that it will work out the way I want it to, but does that mean I shouldnt at least give it a shot? Granted, he tried his best to sound happy for me, but I know him well enough to know that he isnt truly happy for me, not the way I want him to be anyway. I know he's concerned that I'm only doing this because its my only other option aside from staying at my current job, and he's worried that if I do this I may never go back to being a classroom teacher. I dont know how to make him understand how much I want to do this. And honestly, if this works out, its very possible that I'll never go back to being a classroom teacher. But thats ok with me. I'm so fed up with the DOE and all the shit they've screwed me on that I really dont want to work for the public schools right now, and I may never want to work there. When I think about the things I would be giving up by switching careers, I dont feel any regret. My biggest goal was to do something to help children. And that's what I'm doing. Maybe its not exactly where I thought I would be doing so, but that doesnt mean its a bad choice. If anything, I think that this could be one of the best choices I've ever made. I just hope that in time he'll realize it too and be happy for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's someone else too. Someone who I thought would be even more thrilled about this opportunity than I was, because its something so close to her own heart. And she tried to make it seem like she was happy, but I could tell she wasnt. She tried to say all the right things, but she also said things that made me realize that she wasnt 100% on board with the idea. I considered calling her on it, but I didnt think it was worth the argument that would likely ensue if I had. I could kind of understand if her concerns were about the risks involved, but they werent. They were about other aspects of the job, things that she doesnt agree with because of her own background and experiences. But all I wanted from her was to be supportive and happy for me. I'm taking charge of my life, venturing into the unknown instead of choosing the safe route, and I'm really excited about it. All I want is for the people I love to be there for me. Is it really too much to ask?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-109988233467528971?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/109988233467528971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=109988233467528971' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109988233467528971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109988233467528971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/11/to-support-or-not-to-support-why-is.html' title='To support or not to support... why is this even a question?'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-109928102067473650</id><published>2004-10-31T22:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-10-31T19:50:20.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wondering About the Past</title><content type='html'>For some reason today, I started thinking about an old friend who I havent talked to in years. Well, actually he was more than just a friend, which is &lt;em&gt;why &lt;/em&gt;we havent spoken in years. The last time we spoke, things were left very badly between us. In the years since though, all that anger and hurt has disintegrated, and every so often I think of him and wonder what he's doing now, hoping that wherever he is and whatever he's doing, he's happy. Sometimes I wish there were a way for me to get in touch with him and just let him know that I miss him, as a friend only, but miss him all the same. We started out as great friends, very close, but after everything that happened, friendship was pretty much out of the question, at least then. Even now, if I were to see him again, I dont know whether or not we could be friends. Not because of our history, but because so many years have gone by, and we're two totally different people than we once were. But that doesnt stop me from wanting to try. I wouldnt even know where to begin though. I may or may not have a current email address for him (that is, I dont know if the one I have is still active after all these years) but even if it is current, and I decided to email him, what would I say? And how would he react if I did? I got over it all a long time ago, and I assume he did too, but what if he didnt? What if my contacting him brought up all kinds of bad memories? Then again, what if he is in the same place I am now, wondering about him and wishing he were still part of my circle of friends? I guess I'll just have to go on wondering, and hold onto all those happy memories as our only connection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-109928102067473650?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/109928102067473650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=109928102067473650' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109928102067473650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109928102067473650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/10/wondering-about-past.html' title='Wondering About the Past'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-109919653455515421</id><published>2004-10-31T00:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-30T21:22:14.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome Home, Sox!!</title><content type='html'>My sis came up from Virginia this weekend for the Red Sox parade. We went in to Boston at the crack of dawn this morning and we were able to get front row seats!! It was SO much fun. We waited around for hours before we finally got to see all the players, but it was so worth it. The energy of the crowd and the excitement was through the roof, but everyone (for the most part) was really well-behaved and cooperative. I got some pictures of the players as they went by, but I ran out of film and didnt get as many as I wanted. The ones I did get didnt come out as well as I had hoped, especially the Johnny Damon one, because the duck boats didnt stop or even slow down really. But some of them came out really well, and I got most of the players I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is definitely one of those times that will never be forgotten- no matter how many World Series titles they win from now on, or how many amazing players they have. This is the group that everyone in Boston will remember for the rest of their lives- the rough, raggedy looking, self-proclaimed idiots that changed history. Love that dirty water!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-109919653455515421?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/109919653455515421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=109919653455515421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109919653455515421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109919653455515421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/10/welcome-home-sox.html' title='Welcome Home, Sox!!'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-109893741608612333</id><published>2004-10-27T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-27T21:23:36.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ITS BROKEN!!!</title><content type='html'>THE CURSE IS BROKEN!!! I'm still in shock I think... THE RED SOX WON THE WORLD SERIES!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-109893741608612333?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/109893741608612333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=109893741608612333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109893741608612333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109893741608612333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/10/its-broken.html' title='ITS BROKEN!!!'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-109874942252128494</id><published>2004-10-25T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-25T17:10:22.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I should buy a lottery ticket...</title><content type='html'>.... with the way things are going, I think I would win! Not only are the Red Sox in the World Series (and AHEAD!!) but....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I GOT THE JOB!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm SO unbelievably excited about this job. I'm going to be working with children with autism in their homes using ABA (Applied Behavior Analysis). I never realized how much something like this would make me happy- I never even thought about working outside a classroom. Then one night after a lousy day at work I started looking online for teacher positions, and this job popped up. As soon as I read the ad, I knew it was what I wanted to do. A job like this had never occurred to me before, and it surprised me how much I wanted it. After thinking about it some more, I realized why I wanted it so much. When I was about 10 years old, I decided that I wanted to be a child psychologist. I kept that dream until halfway through my junior year of high school when I started really looking into colleges and realized that I would have to be in school til I was about 30 before I had all the degrees necessary to do it. But I still wanted to work with kids so I decided to become a teacher instead. I never let go of that psychology dream completely, and when I had to choose a second major for my education requirement, I chose Psych. And the psych classes I took are the ones I most enjoyed throughout college, and the ones that I did the best in, and I never doubted my ability to understand and apply psychology. Dont get me wrong, I love teaching, and I'm glad that I chose to do it, but now I can do both... and, as an added bonus, get paid more than what I'm making now! And I wont be leaving my current job just yet. I'll start out with one or two cases, and gradually add on to my caseload (I love saying that- it sounds so professional!) as the referrals come in. So for awhile I'll be working both jobs- part time at the center, and part time with my clients (woohoo, more "professional" sounding words lol) until I have a full caseload. I'll also have plenty of opportunities to move up in the company, fairly early on. I start out as an associate teacher, then a lead teacher, then after getting a degree in ABA (which, btw, the company helps pay for!) I can move up further, become board certified or a supervisor. The company is also gradually becoming one of the big names in ABA and presents at national and international conferences. I'm even excited about that- and I HATE public speaking!&lt;br /&gt;After I got the call today, I talked to my boss, who was really happy for me (and even happier that I'm not leaving right away!) She even apologized for being so upset with me last week when I asked for the day off to go to the observation interview. I told a few friends at work (the rest will find out when my boss sends out a memo) and they were also really happy for me, and now are even more determined to find new jobs themselves. I should feel sorry for my boss with so many people leaving, but she brought it on herself. It will be SO had to leave the kids though- thats the one part I'm not looking forward to at all. They've become such a big part of my life, and I cant imagine not seeing them everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, if (when) the Sox win the World Series, I'll definitely be buying the lottery ticket...if I havent already!!! :-D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-109874942252128494?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/109874942252128494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=109874942252128494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109874942252128494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109874942252128494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/10/i-should-buy-lottery-ticket.html' title='I should buy a lottery ticket...'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-109833184966564899</id><published>2004-10-20T21:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-20T21:10:49.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WE BELIEVE!!!</title><content type='html'>World Series here we come!!!! Yeah baby! GO SOX! WE STILL BELIEVE!! REVERSE THE CURSE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-109833184966564899?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/109833184966564899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=109833184966564899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109833184966564899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109833184966564899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/10/we-believe.html' title='WE BELIEVE!!!'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-109772806764079188</id><published>2004-10-14T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-13T21:27:47.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need a new job</title><content type='html'>I used to love my job... til it all started going downhill at the center. The last few weeks have just been torture. So much drama among the staff, parents who dont have a friggin clue how to raise their children or treat their childrens teachers with respect, and a boss who cares more about all the stuff we're doing "wrong" (most of which has nothing to do with educating these children) than she does about how the children are being taken care of. An incident yesterday (luckily after I left) just proves that the place is completely dysfunctional. One of the parents has always had this weird little obsession with one of the teachers, to the point where the teacher would hide in my room everytime she saw this parent coming just so she wouldnt have to talk to her. This parent hasnt been doing the pickups and dropoffs the last few weeks, and we were all enjoying the break from her. Then she came yesterday and cornered her favorite teacher in a classroom to tell her that she had just gotten liposuction, a tummy tuck, and a boob job for her birthday.... and proceeded to whip off her shirt to show her. The teacher was pretty much speechless and got away from her as soon as she could. She then went and told the director, who was shocked, but then laughed it off.... no mention of sexual harassment or the total inappropriateness of the situation. In any other center, that child would most likely be kicked out of the program. Not in my center though. And people wonder why I'm looking for a new job. Tomorrows interview better go well because even though yesterday's went great and I'm pretty sure I have a good shot at it, I really dont think I can take the pay cut that would go along with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think happy thoughts for me!!  (and the Red Sox!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-109772806764079188?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/109772806764079188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=109772806764079188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109772806764079188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109772806764079188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/10/i-need-new-job.html' title='I need a new job'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-109754750465197702</id><published>2004-10-11T22:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-11T19:18:24.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>happy thoughts of the day</title><content type='html'>A long time ago, someone gave me one of those page-a-day calendars called "14,000 Things to Be Happy About" and for a year, I had a good laugh or smile each day. Another time I got an email forward on the same topic. You never really stop to think about how certain tiny little things can make you so happy and brighten up your day, no matter how bad it was. So then I started thinking about things that make me happy. Some may apply to others, some may only be my unique personality, but once I started writing them down I realized that this could be a never-ending list, one that I can add onto for the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy Thoughts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a hug from a child&lt;br /&gt;babies blowing kisses&lt;br /&gt;laughing til you cry&lt;br /&gt;saying I love you&lt;br /&gt;someone else saying I love you&lt;br /&gt;an unexpected "just saying hi" phone call or email&lt;br /&gt;hugging a girl friend&lt;br /&gt;hugging a guy friend (yes there is a huge difference)&lt;br /&gt;waking up and realizing you still have a few more hours left to sleep&lt;br /&gt;thunderstorms&lt;br /&gt;finishing a long-term project&lt;br /&gt;knowing after you meet someone that you made a great first impression&lt;br /&gt;hearing an old favorite on the radio&lt;br /&gt;singing along as loud as you want because no one is around to hear you&lt;br /&gt;the first time a young child says your name&lt;br /&gt;knowing you're someone's favorite "something"&lt;br /&gt;finding out an old favorite outfit is back in style&lt;br /&gt;snuggling&lt;br /&gt;a cozy night in&lt;br /&gt;doing something you've never done before&lt;br /&gt;looking back and realizing you made the right decision&lt;br /&gt;having someone play with your hair&lt;br /&gt;reading a good book&lt;br /&gt;doing something "just because"&lt;br /&gt;getting messy&lt;br /&gt;rainbows&lt;br /&gt;"star light, star bright"&lt;br /&gt;believing that wishes will come true&lt;br /&gt;the old familiar scent of a favorite childhood toy&lt;br /&gt;getting caught up in a movie&lt;br /&gt;getting flowers&lt;br /&gt;cooking an elaborate dinner&lt;br /&gt;summer rain showers&lt;br /&gt;remembering that first kiss&lt;br /&gt;chocolate milk and grilled cheese&lt;br /&gt;discovering you know exactly where you are just when you think you're completely lost&lt;br /&gt;freshly washed bedding&lt;br /&gt;a new pair of underwear&lt;br /&gt;watching a ballgame at Fenway&lt;br /&gt;walking though a garden in bloom&lt;br /&gt;feeding the ducks&lt;br /&gt;long hot showers&lt;br /&gt;bubble baths&lt;br /&gt;the aroma of cinnamon rolls baking&lt;br /&gt;candlelight&lt;br /&gt;lazy sundays&lt;br /&gt;playing hooky&lt;br /&gt;"me-time"&lt;br /&gt;coloring with crayons&lt;br /&gt;staying up all night talking about nothing&lt;br /&gt;walking along the beach&lt;br /&gt;getting all dressed up for a special occasion&lt;br /&gt;getting all dressed up for no occasion&lt;br /&gt;cool Ocober days&lt;br /&gt;long winter nights&lt;br /&gt;long summer days&lt;br /&gt;suddenly realizing you remember something you learned in high school and never thought you would use in real life&lt;br /&gt;strangers treating you with the common courtesy that all people should&lt;br /&gt;trying out a new recipe&lt;br /&gt;dancing to the music&lt;br /&gt;dancing without any music&lt;br /&gt;splurging on something you want without regret&lt;br /&gt;cocktails with friends&lt;br /&gt;shooting stars&lt;br /&gt;cloudless skies&lt;br /&gt;playing Candyland and Chutes and Ladders&lt;br /&gt;looking at old photos&lt;br /&gt;knowing you made someone's day&lt;br /&gt;letting someone else know they made your day&lt;br /&gt;rollercoasters&lt;br /&gt;carousels&lt;br /&gt;fireworks&lt;br /&gt;inside jokes (I need some "coffee")&lt;br /&gt;a favorite quote&lt;br /&gt;learning something new each day&lt;br /&gt;purple&lt;br /&gt;sitting in front of the fire&lt;br /&gt;wrapping yourself in a warm blanket&lt;br /&gt;knowing that your pet will (almost) always be happy to see you&lt;br /&gt;your favorite jeans&lt;br /&gt;playing a song over and over until you learn all the words so you can sing along without feeling stupid&lt;br /&gt;pick-up baseball games&lt;br /&gt;sledding&lt;br /&gt;building a snowman&lt;br /&gt;building a sandcastle&lt;br /&gt;the feeling of Christmas in the air&lt;br /&gt;little kids in Halloween costumes&lt;br /&gt;romantic Valentines Day celebrations&lt;br /&gt;boycotting Valentines Day&lt;br /&gt;Christmas songs&lt;br /&gt;avoiding the mall the day after Thanksgiving&lt;br /&gt;birthday parties&lt;br /&gt;lemonade on a hot day&lt;br /&gt;hot cocoa on a cold day&lt;br /&gt;sleeping late&lt;br /&gt;watching children pretend to be grown-ups&lt;br /&gt;seeing a child accomplish something new&lt;br /&gt;secret admirers&lt;br /&gt;live music&lt;br /&gt;ice cream sundaes&lt;br /&gt;scented candles&lt;br /&gt;frog ponds&lt;br /&gt;getting a massage&lt;br /&gt;giving a massage&lt;br /&gt;playdough&lt;br /&gt;catching the scent of something that brings you back in time&lt;br /&gt;a big pile of soft pillows&lt;br /&gt;making s'mores&lt;br /&gt;being spontaneous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-109754750465197702?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/109754750465197702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=109754750465197702' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109754750465197702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109754750465197702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/10/happy-thoughts-of-day.html' title='happy thoughts of the day'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-109735660434870967</id><published>2004-10-09T17:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-09T14:16:44.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Treasured Moments</title><content type='html'>Kids have always been drawn to me, for whatever reason. I never really noticed it until someone pointed out to me that whenever we were out anywhere little kids would wave to me, or smile or whatnot. So I guess its a good thing I like kids. Everytime I worked in a classroom, both in college and now at my job, there was always one or two children that clung to me right away and just chose me as their favorite person to go to for anything. I always felt so special when a kid chose me as ther own, even though it sometimes made things difficult for the other teachers when I wasnt around. Today I had yet another of those experiences, but it was unlike all the others. Usually it takes a little bit of time, at least a day or so, for a child to really start clinging to me. But today it was a matter of, literally, moments. I had gone to Toddler 1 to cover one of the teachers for a bathroom break. Most of the kids in there know me, but there are some who just joined the program who had never met me before. Lindsey is one of those kids. When I got there she was close to tears, saying she wanted Mommy, and the other teachers were trying to distract her with toys. When she saw me, she watched from a distance at first, but I talked to her, asking her about her doll and just trying to prevent her from crying. Then the teacher came back and I said bye to the kids. Lindsey burst into tears and ran over to me motioning for me to pick her up. So I did, and gave her a hug and told her I had to leave. She wrapped her arms around my neck and buried her face in my shoulder. I asked her if she wanted to go to another teacher, who then came over and tried to take her from me, but Lindsey wouldnt let go. We finally pried her off of my neck and the other teacher said to her that she knew she loved me but it was time for me to go back to my room. I told the teacher that she had never met me before, and she was shocked. I was too... I dont know what happened to make her do that, but as difficult as it was, I also felt a touch of joy at being accepted so quickly. They say that children and animals are the best judge of character. If thats true then what happened today is possibly one of the greatest compliments I could have ever received from anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-109735660434870967?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/109735660434870967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=109735660434870967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109735660434870967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109735660434870967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/10/treasured-moments.html' title='Treasured Moments'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-109727814517894805</id><published>2004-10-08T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-08T16:29:05.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>general musings on friendship</title><content type='html'>My social circle has changed dramatically over the last few years. There are some people who are no longer part of my life, for different reasons, and others who I believe will remain in my life forever. Those that are not in my life anymore will always impact me, but I may never see them again. Some of that is my personal choice, other is simply unfortunate circumstances. There is one person in particular who I once thought would always be in my life, but as the years went by we drifted apart, and I began to realize that we were both better off without one another. We had been so close at one time, and as we got older and changed, we no longer had anything left of what had once been a great friendship. At least, it seemed like a great friendship, but it was hardly perfect. For reasons I can speculate on but will never know for sure, she felt the need to try to make me someone I'm not. She belittled my career path, tried to undermine my personal decisions, and basically tried to make me dislike who I was. It backfired though, and I started to dislike who she was. When I started cringing everytime I saw her name on the caller ID, I knew it was time for it to end. But it wasnt that easy. As much as I disliked the idea, I had to do something before I could just let her go. I knew that I had to do something for her but I also knew that if I did she would hate me forever. I had to choose between wanting to help and making my life easier. But of course, I couldnt be selfish when it came to this. I had to do something, so I did. And I got exactly what I was expecting. I knew that what I did would piss her off, but I couldnt just sit back and do nothing. I figured that even if she completely disagreed with me (which she did) at least maybe she would start thinking that maybe I wasnt totally off base, and maybe she would help herself even if she wouldnt let me help her. I dont know what happened to her, other than what others tell me, but I wish the best for her. And I hope that she would do the same for me. Maybe one day she'll realize what really happened between us, from my perspective. Maybe she wont. Either way though, I know that there was nothing else I could have done in the circumstances. A huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders since it happened and I know that I'm better off without her.&lt;br /&gt;An old friend once wrote a poem about me (at least, I think it was about me but he refused to tell me for sure). It was a beautiful poem. I only had one copy of it, and I dont think the poet even knows that I have that copy. I kept it with other important keepsakes for years, but during the move it got misplaced. I wish I knew where it was. I always seem to forget about it until something jogs my memory. Luckily, its always right when I need it that I remember. It always makes me feel better about myself when I read it. To have someone put their deepest, most private thoughts about you into a poem is the most amazing thing. Knowing that you've impacted someones life so much that they have to express themselves that way is such a wonderful feeling. The poem describes who I am in a way that I never could. I suppose, in a way, its easier for someone close to you to describe who you are than it is for you to describe yourself. The first time I read the poem, and talked to the poet about it, he told me that he had written many poems. I was shocked. I thought I had known that person so well, and I never would have guessed that he was a writer. I never saw any of his other poems, though I'm sure there were others about me, but just knowing about them makes me realize how little I really knew about him. Sadly, not long after he opened up to me that way, we lost touch. Sometimes I still think about him, wondering what he's doing now and if he's happy, and hoping that, wherever life took him, he is still writing his poetry. And I hope that I find that poem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-109727814517894805?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/109727814517894805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=109727814517894805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109727814517894805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109727814517894805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/10/general-musings-on-friendship.html' title='general musings on friendship'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8631559.post-109719625299417974</id><published>2004-10-07T20:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-10-07T17:44:12.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching up with the times.....</title><content type='html'>Yes I've finally jumped on the blogger bandwagon. I never thought I would. In fact, I once told someone that I thought it was a stupid idea to post all your feelings and thoughts online where anyone could get a glimpse into your private life. Not that it was a bad idea to have a blog, just dont have one if you're going to use it to talk about things you dont want others to interpret the wrong way (or maybe they interpret them the right way but then share their own thoughts on the contents, which then gets the person who wrote those thoughts mad at you.) But I digress. I dont really know why I decided to start a blog. For years I've kept journals but no one ever knew about them (well I guess that cat is out of the bag) and certainly no one ever read them. But whats written there will never be written here. Maybe I'm doing this as a way to open up to others, or maybe I just want others to open up more to me. Or maybe I want people get a better understanding of who I really am. Maybe I want to get a better understanding of who I am.&lt;br /&gt;So who am I? Honestly, I cant really say right now. Things change so quickly in life, and everyone has to change right along, or else they get left behind in a world where they dont fit in. Some people change more drastically than others, but its impossible to be the same exact person from one year to the next, or even one day to the next. At this point in my life, everything is still up in the air. Leaving college to enter "the real world" is a huge change in itself. I always figured that once I graduated and got a job, things would just kind of fall into place. But now I've been out of school for a year, living in a new apartment, and loving it, working at a good job, and enjoying it (usually), but all that could change any time. All I can really do is let things happen as they will and hope for the best.&lt;br /&gt;But back to where I was going with this... That famous line from The Breakfast Club really does have alot of meaning to it. "You see us as you want to see us: in the simplest terms and most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basketcase, a princess, and a criminal." We are, all of us, all of those things, and so much more. Who we are is shaped who we associate with, either by choice or by circumstances. It doesnt matter if someone is a part of your life for a moment or forever, because everyone you come into contact with has the ability to make you who you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8631559-109719625299417974?l=megpn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/feeds/109719625299417974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8631559&amp;postID=109719625299417974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109719625299417974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8631559/posts/default/109719625299417974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megpn.blogspot.com/2004/10/catching-up-with-times.html' title='Catching up with the times.....'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06549876574819869582</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
