<?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-3682857439422588431</id><updated>2011-11-27T14:59:33.827-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Contemplating Contemplation</title><subtitle type='html'>What we think, we become. - Buddha</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-1732807867978002511</id><published>2011-08-01T22:05:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T22:05:26.769-10:00</updated><title type='text'>ASSAULT ON THE MOUSE - DAY 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CUUjsqf9OLE/TjesqAVAbeI/AAAAAAAAAGg/j8DWxzkGVdI/s1600/caliadven.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="175" width="288" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CUUjsqf9OLE/TjesqAVAbeI/AAAAAAAAAGg/j8DWxzkGVdI/s320/caliadven.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was first day on our Disney or Bust Tour.  We decided to start off by going to California Adventure.  Nico and Kelcie had a total blast!!!  Kelcie did get scared in A Bug's Life 3D movie, so I had to take her out right in the beginning.  I was pretty hesitant to let him go with Rich, but Nico went on the Tower of Terror.  He said that it was great, but doesn't want to do it again.  The only problem is now he thinks that he can go on ANYTHING.  So right now he's bugging to go on California Screaming and is habut because he doesn't meet the height requirement.  &lt;br /&gt;We went to check out Talking with Crush the Turtle from Finding Nemo.  It's interactive and they call on people from the audience.  So Nico was one of the kids picked.  They told him to ask a question and he asked, "Who was the first president."  That's my son, he couldn't just ask a normal 5 year old question.  He's gotta come up with something totally left field.  Sheesh.  Then Crush came out wearig a bikini and he asked Nico what it was.  My son said that it was a bra (definitely his father's son).  Then Crush asked him what it was for.  Richard and I were shitting bricks because all we could think about was that our son was gonna say that it was for boobies.  Thank God he didn't.  He said that it was for girls.  Whew.  We were ready to run out of the theater.&lt;br /&gt;We took a break about mid afternoon because we were all tired and hungry.  We tried our best not to buy any food in the park since a hotdog and chips will run you about 6.25.  &lt;br /&gt;We rested in the room and came back to California Adventure just in time to watch Nico's favorite Phineas and Ferb.  He got to dance with them and did a great robot.  &lt;br /&gt;We'll be off to Disneyland in the morning.  Our main goal for the day will be get Nico into the Jedi Training Academy.  It's a show where they pick kids from the audience to come up and "train" to be a Jedi.  We told Nico that if he gets picked, we'll get him a lightsaber.  So now he's on a mission. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Until next blog...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-1732807867978002511?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/1732807867978002511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=1732807867978002511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/1732807867978002511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/1732807867978002511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2011/08/assault-on-mouse-day-1.html' title='ASSAULT ON THE MOUSE - DAY 1'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CUUjsqf9OLE/TjesqAVAbeI/AAAAAAAAAGg/j8DWxzkGVdI/s72-c/caliadven.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-2957071658776813556</id><published>2011-06-01T16:08:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2011-06-01T16:08:11.084-10:00</updated><title type='text'>HI, MY NAME IS....</title><content type='html'>So, this weekend my daughter finally said her name.  We've been trying to get her to say it for about 2 months now, yet I guess she wanted to do it when SHE wanted.  That's my little bit of mommy happenings for today.  Thanks for reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gZVe0iWKfmU/TebwewTGtRI/AAAAAAAAAGM/eGfpvSuFBXk/s1600/work_4426578_1_sticker%252C375x360_hi-my-name-is-v1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="307" width="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gZVe0iWKfmU/TebwewTGtRI/AAAAAAAAAGM/eGfpvSuFBXk/s320/work_4426578_1_sticker%252C375x360_hi-my-name-is-v1.png" /&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/3682857439422588431-2957071658776813556?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/2957071658776813556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=2957071658776813556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/2957071658776813556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/2957071658776813556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2011/06/hi-my-name-is.html' title='HI, MY NAME IS....'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gZVe0iWKfmU/TebwewTGtRI/AAAAAAAAAGM/eGfpvSuFBXk/s72-c/work_4426578_1_sticker%252C375x360_hi-my-name-is-v1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-5062740822894910701</id><published>2011-06-01T15:52:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2011-06-01T15:52:27.008-10:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG</title><content type='html'>I am so proud of Nico for getting into Punahou. He is such an awesome kid and he deserves to have the best education possible. I know that Kelcie will soon be following in his footsteps.&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BZRhGrqiDj8/TebseNdT5II/AAAAAAAAAF8/2lIOyXJd5hw/s1600/ColorPUNAHOU_Seal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" width="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BZRhGrqiDj8/TebseNdT5II/AAAAAAAAAF8/2lIOyXJd5hw/s320/ColorPUNAHOU_Seal.jpg" /&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/3682857439422588431-5062740822894910701?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/5062740822894910701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=5062740822894910701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/5062740822894910701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/5062740822894910701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2011/06/omg.html' title='OMG'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BZRhGrqiDj8/TebseNdT5II/AAAAAAAAAF8/2lIOyXJd5hw/s72-c/ColorPUNAHOU_Seal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-4902016156740838855</id><published>2011-02-20T20:43:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T20:43:17.131-10:00</updated><title type='text'>One Step Closer</title><content type='html'>This was a great weekend.  We found out that out of 1254 children on our island, our son was chosen as one of 160 that have the opportunity to continue on to the next phase of testing at Kamehameha Schools.  We are so proud of him.  Way to go sonny!!!!!  This means that he will now have the opportunity to be the star that we know he can be in a classroom with other children to see how he interacts with them.  After the second phase, we will see if he will be 1 out of the 80 to be accepted, or 1 out of 80 to be waitlisted.  We are so proud and thankful!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-4902016156740838855?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/4902016156740838855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=4902016156740838855' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/4902016156740838855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/4902016156740838855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2011/02/one-step-closer.html' title='One Step Closer'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-1472110654309243297</id><published>2011-02-08T22:51:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T22:51:29.140-10:00</updated><title type='text'>To read or not to read, that is the question...</title><content type='html'>This is one of those, I don't think anyone knows this about me kinda moments, but I like to read.  I probably don't read anything anyone is really interested in, but nevertheless, I like to read.  Although I like to read, I haven't really picked up a book since 2005.  That was the year that I lost half of my marbles due to a little man making his appearance in this world.  Then in 2009, I lost the other half of my marbles due to his sister gracing us with her presence.  Anyways, bottom line is that I don't get to really pick up a book with a 5 year old and 1 year old to keep me busy.  I go to the library quite often with my children and everytime I've gone I've always wanted to grab one of those audio books, but never have worked up the nerve to.  I think it's some kind of blockage that I have in my subconscious where I think that the book won't mean as much if I don't read it.  I feel lazy if I have to resort to listening instead of using my eyes and brain to actually READ the pages of the book.  Isn't that part of the reason that you go to school, is to learn how to read?  But there I am, standing in front of the audio book section, contemplating like it's the philosophical question of the century.  So I put it out to anyone reading this.  Audio Books...Yay or Nay?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-1472110654309243297?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/1472110654309243297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=1472110654309243297' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/1472110654309243297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/1472110654309243297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2011/02/to-read-or-not-to-read-that-is-question.html' title='To read or not to read, that is the question...'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-599786156218200461</id><published>2011-02-03T20:35:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T20:35:30.581-10:00</updated><title type='text'>A Warrior, A Buff and Blue, or A Bulldog????</title><content type='html'>So my son is now five.  Actually, he's been five since August of 2010.  The time has come to decide what schools we wanted him to go to for Kindergarten.  Since he is considered a "late born", he is attending school as a Junior Kindergartener.  We've chosen to try out for three different schools, Kamehameha, Punahou, and Le Jardin.  He's already been through the testing process for Punahou.  Now we wait.  He's gone through the first phase for Kamehameha and are waiting to hear if he's going to the second phase.  So now we're waiting.  Finally, he will be testing and interviewing this weekend for Le Jardin.  After that, we will wait.  Filling out the applications was a breeze.  Taking him to the testing, a little on edge, but ok.  Now, THE WAIT.  I think that's the hardest part of the whole process.  Of course as every parent does, we're hoping that he gets in to all three.  I just hope that he didn't feel pressure.  We pretty much made every effort to not push him.  We told him that he was going to meet new friends and new teachers at some new schools.  While he was there, they would play different games and ask him some questions.  He was cool with that since my son actually likes to meet new people and experience new things.  Unfortunately, we have to be patient, since it is a virtue, and wait until at latest the end of April just to see what new adventure lies ahead for our son.  If he gets in, then awesome and if he doesn't, that just means that it wasn't meant to be.  But of course, we would still LOVE to have A Warrior, A Buff and Blue or A Bulldog.  LOL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-599786156218200461?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/599786156218200461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=599786156218200461' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/599786156218200461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/599786156218200461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2011/02/warrior-buff-and-blue-or-bulldog.html' title='A Warrior, A Buff and Blue, or A Bulldog????'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-5014553687548436176</id><published>2010-06-11T08:53:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T09:10:04.982-10:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN</title><content type='html'>SUMMER ANTHEM.  At least in my opinion =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object style="background-image:url(http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/X_PDns23RWY/hqdefault.jpg)"  width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/X_PDns23RWY&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/X_PDns23RWY&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowScriptAccess="never" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-5014553687548436176?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/5014553687548436176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=5014553687548436176' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/5014553687548436176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/5014553687548436176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2010/06/its-that-time-of-year-again.html' title='IT&apos;S THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-121226675778489509</id><published>2010-06-08T01:12:00.003-10:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T01:24:25.988-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Yin &amp; Yang</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4oTIYExXI/AAAAAAAAAEU/PAm7SpXMw7I/s1600/yin-yang.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 294px; height: 294px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4oTIYExXI/AAAAAAAAAEU/PAm7SpXMw7I/s320/yin-yang.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480362105687557490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance, order, rhythm and harmony.”&lt;br /&gt;Thomas Merton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do you ever just have one of those days when all you can do is go to work and think "f" it?  i did that today.  i went to work and actually did most of my work. i didn't really talk to anybody.  i just walked around like the office zombie that i'm turning into.  the sad part about it, is that i'm not the only one with that, "i'm over it attitude."  my office has ALOT of tension.  it's like this black cloud that consumes you the minute you walk through the door.  i think someone should come and bless it or something.  i'm currently looking for a great pirate sign that says, "abandon hope, all ye who enter here."  everyday is the same thing.  bickering, yelling, backstabbing and on and on and on.  don't get me wrong.  i like my job and am very appreciative of the perks and flexibility that it allows me.  but i just wish that there wasn't so much negative energy that flows through that place everyday.  hopefully down the line, there can eventually be some kind of balance.  until then, office zombie signing off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;until next post...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-121226675778489509?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/121226675778489509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=121226675778489509' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/121226675778489509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/121226675778489509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2010/06/yin-yang.html' title='Yin &amp; Yang'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4oTIYExXI/AAAAAAAAAEU/PAm7SpXMw7I/s72-c/yin-yang.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-5598740279830390015</id><published>2010-06-04T04:35:00.002-10:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T04:42:04.369-10:00</updated><title type='text'>sleeeeeep</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TAkQpG0u3hI/AAAAAAAAAEM/DjxjjiPtMqU/s1600/Sleepy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 273px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TAkQpG0u3hI/AAAAAAAAAEM/DjxjjiPtMqU/s320/Sleepy2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478928720065388050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been up since 2am.  it's now 4:36am.  husband, son, and daughter have been sleeping straight through.  i wish there were some kind of "turn brain off" switch somewhere on the side of my head.  then the road to sleepytown wouldn't be as hard to get to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-5598740279830390015?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/5598740279830390015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=5598740279830390015' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/5598740279830390015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/5598740279830390015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2010/06/sleeeeeep.html' title='sleeeeeep'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TAkQpG0u3hI/AAAAAAAAAEM/DjxjjiPtMqU/s72-c/Sleepy2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-7620595554086897767</id><published>2010-06-02T00:20:00.009-10:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T00:50:43.760-10:00</updated><title type='text'>In the court of King Morals, Queen Principles, and Prince Values</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TAY1jOvW6AI/AAAAAAAAAEE/-XEX2258Hlo/s1600/how+to+behave.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TAY1jOvW6AI/AAAAAAAAAEE/-XEX2258Hlo/s320/how+to+behave.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478124876111210498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ORGINALLY WASN'T GOING TO POST THIS, BUT TIME HAS GONE ON AND THIS IS THE ONLY PLACE THAT I FEEL THAT #1 I CAN VENT ABOUT IT AND #2 IF THERE IS SOMEONE OUT THERE THAT CAN GIVE ME ANY FEEDBACK ON MAYBE WHAT I CAN DO.  UNFORTUNATELY, THE COURTS ARE ALL ABOUT THE EVIDENCE.  MAYBE THERE'S SOME KIND OF "COURT" OUT THERE THAT WOULD TRY THIS FROM A FOUNDATION OF JUST PURE MORALS, VALUES &amp; PRINCIPLES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;please excuse the massive amounts of grammatical and punctuation errors in this post as it's late and there's alot to write, so here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there was once a man who managed a restaurant(we'll talk about him in a bit) and there was once a woman(if you could call her that) who worked there.  now the woman had a boyfriend who she would fight with and who would physically and verbally abuse her when they were together.  he would also call her @ work (on her cell phone because there were no personal phone calls allowed) to argue with her as well.  the woman had a vehicle which the man broke one of her windows because they were fighting and he got angry.  the woman wanted out of the relationship, but couldn't leave the boyfriend because he helped to pay her rent.  then one day, the woman gets pregnant with boyfriend's baby.  here is where restaurant manager comes into play.&lt;br /&gt;one day restaurant manager calls his wife to ask here for information regarding domestic violence.  his wife asks him why and he explains that he has a woman (if you could call her that) that works for him who's pregnant and is involved in an abusive relationship.  the woman says that she's being hit by her boyfriend and is afraid for herself and her unborn baby.  the woman says that the boyfriend has already hit her to the point where she's fallen down.  the restaurant manager's wife feels for this woman and immediately emails her husband information for the woman to try and get some help with her situation.  the restaurant manager gives the information to the woman(if you can call her that) and let's her know that he's there to help her.  &lt;br /&gt;now the preganant woman's performance at the restaurant is deteriorating due to obvious pregnancy and constant phone calls from her boyfriend to argue.  some instances she was asked to be quiet because she was yelling on the phone.  the restaurant manager is in a pickle because he still wants to help the woman because of the fact that she's pregnant and in the abusive relationship.  he knows that if he let's her go, that she will have no place to go and her relationship with the boyfriend might become more volitile and might hurt the baby.  woman is starting to take more breaks at work and more phone calls from her boyfriend.  there was one incident where her boyfriend dropped her off at work and they were fighting.  when he sped off in the restaurant parking lot, he almost hit an elderly couple.  again, the restaurant manager is in a bind because he's feeling sorry for this woman and her sad, sad relationship status.&lt;br /&gt;the restaurant manager finally tells the woman that she really needs to get some help for her situation because it is becoming dangerous to his customers and her performance is not doing as well because of her constant arguing phone calls with her boyfriend.  she agrees and decides to call a counselor to talk about her situation.  the manager lets the woman know that if she continues to see her boyfriend, that he might have to let her go because he can't have situations like that around his restuarant that puts everyone at risk.  the woman agrees to stop seeing the boyfriend and keeps working at the restaurant until she gives birth.&lt;br /&gt;one day the restaurant and his wife go to the bank.  his wife is outside of the bank waiting for him when she sees the woman, her boyfriend, and their newborn pull into a stall at the bank.  the whole time, the boyfriend is yelling and swearing at the woman to get the "f" out of the "f'ing" car and to hurry the "f" up.  the restaurant manager's wife is listening in dismay.  the woman finally gets out of the car and the boyfriend is still yelling at her telling her that she better stop "f'ing" playing and get the "f" out of the car.  the woman take her baby out of the carseat and hands the infant to the boyfriend.  the woman then proceeds to walk into the bank and is in there for about two minutes when she rushes out and tells the boyfriend, (in a hurried voice) that they needed to leave now!  the boyfriend tells her what the "f" is going on and she doesn't answer him but is now rushing to put the infant back into the carseat so that they can leave.  all the while while listening to the boyfriend swear at her.  the boyfriend then starts their vehicle and speeds off down main street.  at this point, the restaurant manager comes out of the bank and his wife said that she had just seen the woman and her boyfriend speed off.  the wife said that the woman had gone into the bank and the rushed out.  the restaurant manager told his wife that she most likely did that because she had told him that she would not be seeing the boyfriend any longer because he is a hazard to the restaurant and it's customers. &lt;br /&gt;now the restaurant manager's wife is concerned for the child.  the restaurant manager's wife is wanting to call an agency that can help children who are subject to volitile relationships where they are not able to help themselves.  the restaurant manager asks the wife not to call because the boyfriend will know it was someone related to the restaurant and he didn't want any harm to come to the woman, nor did he want any retaliation from the boyfriend.  so, feeling crappy and against her good judgement, the wife agreed not to call.&lt;br /&gt;so in the next few days, the restaurant manager sees the woman and asks her if she is still seeing her abusive boyfriend to which she answers yes.  the restaurant manager tells her that he needs to let her go because she is too much of a liability to his restaurant and it's customers.  he tells the woman that he can write her a great letter of reference for her next job search or she can choose to fight it.  the restaurant manager tells the woman that he's not sure what would happen if she chooses to fight the firing.  he tells her that alot of things might come up in the case and that the scene at the bank and the fact that the restaurant manager's wife wanted to call the agency might come up as well.  the restaurant manager is feeling bad for having to go to this extreme and let her go, but she really gave him no choice.  his first priority is his restaurant.  the woman agrees to the letter of reference and signs the papers letting her go from the restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;time goes by and the restaurant manager gets a letter in the mail from a lawyer for the woman stating that she is suing him for discrimination and wrongful termination because she is a woman and she is pregnant.  the restaurant manager is hurt.  how can this woman who he tried to help go and stab him in the back like this?  he did all he could to help her out and gave her as many chances as he possibly could and now she decides that she wants to sue him?  this first letter really goes nowhere and so the woman decides to go to a particular civil liberties union in her state to again try to sue the restaurant and the restaurant manager as an individual and this is where things stand for now.&lt;br /&gt;i guess that when people are desperate for cash, they will pull out all the stops and forget about the people that tried to help them when they were down.  it's sad to think that this woman is a mother and even sadder to know that this is the kind of things that she will teach her baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Update:  Well, she's won the first phase of this fight.  Now, she's suing for a (excuse my language) FUCKING RIDICULOUS amount of money saying that she's owed pain and suffering.  What about the pain and suffering that she's causing to this manager and his family who tried to help her, no protect her????  BTW, the restaurant manager's wife was pregnant at the same time as the woman.  WHY THE HELL WOULD THE RESTAURANT MANAGER DISCRIMINATE AGAINST SOMEONE IN THE SAME SITUATION AS HIS OWN  WIFE??????  Sorry for the capitals, it just frustrates me to no end how selfish, greedy and manipulative this woman can be because she knows the courts will side with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion (as if this was some sort of essay for school), if the restaurant manager really did discriminate against the woman, then by all means he would be at fault.  The problem is that he didn't discriminate against her.  He tried to help her and for that he's still at fault?  Again, how can i teach my children to help people when they need it, when people will stab you in the back?  "Don't help that screaming woman on the street who's getting beaten by her boyfriend honey.  She might sue you because you dislocated her shoulder when you pulled her out of the way of her boyfriend's fist."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next post...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-7620595554086897767?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/7620595554086897767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=7620595554086897767' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/7620595554086897767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/7620595554086897767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2010/06/in-court-of-king-morals-queen.html' title='In the court of King Morals, Queen Principles, and Prince Values'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TAY1jOvW6AI/AAAAAAAAAEE/-XEX2258Hlo/s72-c/how+to+behave.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-2767040094200054696</id><published>2010-03-08T21:37:00.002-10:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T21:43:18.072-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome</title><content type='html'>I've suggested to my old skool carnival buddy aka best friend that she start a blog.  I think that she would do quite well since I know that she's got alot to say and this would be a great outlet for her to speak.  So, to you carnival buddy, I say come join us (although I don't blog too much, but keep telling myself that i will) because I need more blogs to read while I'm supposed to be working.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-2767040094200054696?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/2767040094200054696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=2767040094200054696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/2767040094200054696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/2767040094200054696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2010/03/welcome.html' title='Welcome'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-2697791795595891638</id><published>2009-02-08T11:44:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T11:47:03.570-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Here We Go Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SY9SyqzQdsI/AAAAAAAAAD4/LyW-eZzm94g/s1600-h/little_kids_drinking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300546316874577602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SY9SyqzQdsI/AAAAAAAAAD4/LyW-eZzm94g/s320/little_kids_drinking.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"February 7th: Baby Loves Disco transforms Honolulu's hottest club into a child proof disco as children (6 months to 7 years) and parents looking for a break from the routine playground circuit let loose for an afternoon dance party featuring real music spun by real DJs blending classic disco. Plus, bubble machines, a chill-out area, diaper changing stations, a full spread of healthy snacks AND optional cocktails for non-driving parents. Saturday afternoon is the new Saturday night. 2 pm - 5 pm, $12 per walking human, in advance/online. $15 at the door, day of event." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i acutally blogged about this situation before, but never really had an ad to prove what i was talking about...until today. if you look above in bold, you will see the reason why i'm so pissed about this event. my husband told me to let it go already, but i can't. how are do you have an event for children ages infant to 7 years old and serve "optional cocktails for non-driving parents?" WTF!!!! IT'S A CHILDRENS' EVENT FOR CHRIST'S SAKE. why even serve the "optional" drinks at all?" i don't know, in my opinion this is just wrong. does the venue need money that badly that they have to go ahead and serve "optional" cocktails for 3 hours in the middle of the day? ok, i'm not over it, but i have other stuff to do. again, this is just my opinion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-2697791795595891638?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/2697791795595891638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=2697791795595891638' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/2697791795595891638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/2697791795595891638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2009/02/here-we-go-again.html' title='Here We Go Again'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SY9SyqzQdsI/AAAAAAAAAD4/LyW-eZzm94g/s72-c/little_kids_drinking.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-1256808563686436409</id><published>2009-01-16T08:38:00.001-10:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T11:39:32.884-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Girl Parts Batman!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SXDUS9SdYFI/AAAAAAAAADE/Z8_8EBVpylY/s1600-h/Its-A-Girl-Baby-Balloon-Bouquet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291962984315052114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SXDUS9SdYFI/AAAAAAAAADE/Z8_8EBVpylY/s320/Its-A-Girl-Baby-Balloon-Bouquet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;so yesterday, my husband and i found out that we're going to be having a girl. i just wanted a healthy baby, but a girl will also do just fine. there's one small problem. WHAT THE HELL DO YOU DO WITH GIRLS????!!!! i have nieces but i never really took care of them as infants. you have to wipe a certain way and you can't be too rough. you mean i can't just throw them on the bed while we're playing? you see, in our family, especially in the next generation there are five boys and only two girls. again, the two girls i have never really taken care of as infants. i have no idea really what to do. i'm not even a girly girl as those who know me can attest to. put up her hair in cute barrettes? how do you do that? make cute little ponytails? what do you mean i have to brush her hair? i don't even brush my own hair. wtf???!!!??? bows? little headbands? huh? am i gonna have to go to the mac counter and get some quick classes so i can at least show my daughter how to but on some kind of makeup when she gets older? OMG. i think the walls are starting to spin. little purses and froo froo dresses? sheesh. well, at least i have girly girls around me who i'm sure will be able to froo froo out my daughter to the nines. and with the two grandmothers who will definitely be FIGHTING (oops i mean COOING) over my daughter, then i'm sure everything will be fine. i just can't wait for my son to have someone to keep him company or should i say a little sister to beat him up and he can't do anything because #1: she's smaller &amp;amp; #2: she's a girl. but in the end, i believe that God doesn't give us anything that we can't handle. so since everything happens for a reason, there's obviously a reason she's going to be coming into our lives. i just want clay aiken to come to the hospital and sing the stevie wonder song like he did in scrubs for my daughter. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=07ZNORc6xW4"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=07ZNORc6xW4&lt;/a&gt; oh well, here's to welcoming a brand new girl in our lives. however she turns out, i just want for her the same thing i want for my son. i want them to be who they are and be happy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;until next post. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-1256808563686436409?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/1256808563686436409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=1256808563686436409' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/1256808563686436409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/1256808563686436409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2009/01/holy-girl-parts-batman.html' title='Holy Girl Parts Batman!!!!'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SXDUS9SdYFI/AAAAAAAAADE/Z8_8EBVpylY/s72-c/Its-A-Girl-Baby-Balloon-Bouquet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-2959149803408747716</id><published>2009-01-08T13:07:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T13:22:31.633-10:00</updated><title type='text'>watchu gonna do with your dash?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SWaKrprKMxI/AAAAAAAAAC8/u3rpiw4cg7M/s1600-h/life.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289067294919111442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 315px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SWaKrprKMxI/AAAAAAAAAC8/u3rpiw4cg7M/s320/life.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;so yesterday i went to my uncle's funeral. it was a "nice" funeral, as most are. the thing that stood out the most was one of the eulogies. one of my uncle's childhood friends came up and listed the dates that my uncle was alive. so and so date - 2008. then he said that the birth and death dates aren't really as important as that dash. the dash, or what you did with your life before and until the day you died. that kinda stuck with me. we're all not getting any younger and i was just thinking about what i've done with my dash. i'm not gonna go into my dash, but it's just something to think about since i was reading &lt;a href="http://noheasmith.blogspot.com/2009/01/think-about-it-thursdays-3its-back.html"&gt;The Rambler's: Think About It Thursdays &lt;/a&gt;blog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;until next post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-2959149803408747716?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/2959149803408747716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=2959149803408747716' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/2959149803408747716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/2959149803408747716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2009/01/watchu-gonna-do-with-your-dash.html' title='watchu gonna do with your dash?'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SWaKrprKMxI/AAAAAAAAAC8/u3rpiw4cg7M/s72-c/life.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-5365425676414386975</id><published>2009-01-02T11:06:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T11:37:58.734-10:00</updated><title type='text'>sheesh</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SV6GgrIXPHI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IxxO5AlHXl4/s1600-h/QuestionMark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286810908471278706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 262px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SV6GgrIXPHI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IxxO5AlHXl4/s320/QuestionMark.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;soooooo...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;ummmmm...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;ok...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's 2009. crap, where the heck did the year go? actually, i know where it went but that would take me a whole nother year to type about it. here's to 2009. new beginnings, new hopes, new dreams &amp;amp; later on in the year, a new little somebody to snuggle and cuddle with. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;maybe i'll just start to blog about more random things like i started out doing but then ended up blogging about stuff that kinda pissed me off. i did make one resolution for the year, NO RESOLUTIONS. i mean, how many of us actually stick to them? i know not me. i will always remember when we USED to go to the spa. every year it was the same old thing. in the beginning of the year, the class we used to take would be super packed. filled to the brim with all of the new year's resolution people swearing that this was the year that they were gonna shed those extra pounds. by the time march &amp;amp; april came around, half those people were nowhere to be seen. and by about the summer, i would say about 99% of those people were gone. that's why i don't make resolutions. they just don't work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;work, oh yah, i should do some.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;until next post. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-5365425676414386975?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/5365425676414386975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=5365425676414386975' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/5365425676414386975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/5365425676414386975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2009/01/sheesh.html' title='sheesh'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SV6GgrIXPHI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IxxO5AlHXl4/s72-c/QuestionMark.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-2177578763587395217</id><published>2008-10-07T11:04:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T11:53:05.974-10:00</updated><title type='text'>adult drinks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SOvZ3bNZijI/AAAAAAAAACs/lUKtmg6mg_4/s1600-h/drinking.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254532936477805106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SOvZ3bNZijI/AAAAAAAAACs/lUKtmg6mg_4/s320/drinking.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;so, far be it from me to dis someone who is trying to make money. times are hard. i understand that. but do we lose our integrity in the process just to make a quick buck?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;back at the end of september, my husband, son, and i went to a function at a nightclub that shall remain nameless. i think the draw to the event was the name, but other than that it was way too overpriced. so we go in and the door person puts a bracelet thingy on my son and gives us some stub looking thing, yet doesn't explain what it's for. we go inside and there is a dj playing music, but he's it also seems like he's practicing for another gig because he's trying to scratch while the songs are playing and when he's transitioning to new songs it's just all f'd up. the mc was boring as hell and kinda seemed like she didn't really even want to be there. so we decided to stay regardless because we wanted to get somewhat of our money's worth but never really got into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then here's the integrity part. this is a CHILDRENS' EVENT. about 30mins after we got there, i hear the mc tell the crowd, "just a reminder to all your parents, please keep your adult drinks away from your kids." WTF??? what do you mean ADULT drinks??? adult drinks at a primarily CHILDRENS' function???? principles, values, and integrity people. again, we all are feeling the pinch during these trying times, but....come on!!!!!! after i hear that announcement, i just give my husband this look. a look that says about 50 "f" words in it. we decide ot leave about 5 minutes later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when we are going out the door, the doorperson asks us for our ticket. i say, "what ticket?" she says that ticket that we gave you when we put the bracelet on your son. ok, maybe that tidbit of information should have been explained when we first walked in the door?? i understand that it's for security purposes and that great. but i wished i would've known the procedure beforehand just in case i had thrown that little slip away. luckily, my husband had it in his pocket which he then showed to the lady and we got to take our son home. but what IF i had thrown that away? would there have been a huge commotion at the door and i wouldn't be able to take my son home????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;obviously, we're NEVER going to this event again. i just think that if they have been making adult drinks all this time, they're lucky that nothing bad has happened. if they keep making adult drinks, i just hope nothing bad happens because that would be a huge liability if anything did. i'll keep my fingers crossed for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;until next post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-2177578763587395217?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/2177578763587395217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=2177578763587395217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/2177578763587395217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/2177578763587395217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2008/10/adult-drinks.html' title='adult drinks'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SOvZ3bNZijI/AAAAAAAAACs/lUKtmg6mg_4/s72-c/drinking.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-3847879462766581884</id><published>2008-09-26T10:24:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T11:21:27.647-10:00</updated><title type='text'>arrrrggghhhh</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SN1RZcx_yhI/AAAAAAAAACk/m8tMrbKMrW0/s1600-h/bachelorsdegree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SN1RZcx_yhI/AAAAAAAAACk/m8tMrbKMrW0/s320/bachelorsdegree.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250442238248339986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so....i applied for a job yesterday.  a job as an academic counselor for school to be unnamed.  the job description stated that a college degree was required.  i said yipee and proceeded with the application process.  i faxed my resume in and in 1 hour i was called back asking if i would be available for an interview. yipeee!!!  i scheduled a time, was told about more requirements of the position such as hours and traveling circumstances.  then came the part when the very nice lady asked me if she could ask me some questions, to which i said sure.  first question, do you have a bachelor's degree.  answer, no.  then very nice lady setting up interview said that she would have to deny my application because i do not have a bachelor's degree.  my response to this was simply that THAT particular requirement was not mentioned in the advertisement for the position.  &lt;br /&gt;i guess my bitch, is just the fact that doesn't experience count for anything anymore in this world?  so if i had a bachelor's degree in basketweaving, i would've gotten my foot through the door?  i had all of the qualifications that they were looking, except the fact that i haven't worked with the higher education population.  i've worked in customer service as well as worked with a wide range of people dealing with domestic violence, sex abuse and at risk youth and just because i don't have a bachelor's i'm denied????  come on people.  don't get me wrong, i'm not dissing on having a bachelor's degree.  it shows that you've shown the committment to stay the course and better yourself educationally.  i'm also not trying to dis anyone having a bachelor's in basketweaving.  i'm just dissappointed, i guess, as to the fact that i can't even get an interview because i don't have one?  i have an associate in human services, which for this particular position, in my opinion, is a better qualification than baskeweaving.  &lt;br /&gt;ultimately, i'm just venting and it's their say as to what they want in an applicant.  so i have to either do something about it, or just stop dwelling on it.  obviously, their HR department is not going to change.  the nice lady i was talking to said that they would keep my application on file in case something comes up where a bachelors is not required. to that i say oh well.&lt;br /&gt;until next post...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-3847879462766581884?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/3847879462766581884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=3847879462766581884' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/3847879462766581884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/3847879462766581884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2008/09/arrrrggghhhh.html' title='arrrrggghhhh'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SN1RZcx_yhI/AAAAAAAAACk/m8tMrbKMrW0/s72-c/bachelorsdegree.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-3359771926314575845</id><published>2008-09-03T09:41:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T10:43:15.630-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Gotta love that Customer Service thing.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SL712a28NjI/AAAAAAAAAB8/rEaaDOX9HfY/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SL712a28NjI/AAAAAAAAAB8/rEaaDOX9HfY/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241897331577337394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I work in customer service. (yeah me...bleh)  Which means that I have to be very two-faced or I get complained about to my boss.  When I worked at Planet Hollywood, this lame manager use to dog me out all the time because one minute I would be swearing up a storm to my friend on the phone and the next minute I would answer the phone and speak oh so sweetly to a potential customer.  Again, customer service.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am at my job just minding my own business when I get a phone call from somebody that obviously HATES their job and has decided to take it out on me.  In a perfect world, I would've loved to tell this customer (bitch) where she could stick her information that she was looking for.  Unfortunately, I couldn't (it's that customer service thing again) so I had to kindly ask this customer (bitch) for her information in order for me to help her.  She proceeded to give the loudest sigh in the history of sighs before she started to spew out the information that she needed.  After she was finished, I asked her for one more piece of information that I needed in order to kindly help.  OMG, I guess that that had brought her to her point of postalness.  This customer (bitch) went off on me telling me that she has already given me ample info and asked me if I just started at this job.  I kindly informed this customer (who is now on my fucking bitch list) that I was trying to get ALL of the information so that I can look for her answer as quickly as possible.  I also added that I had been working at this job off and on for almost 21 years and had learned from my father who started the company in the 70's.  I then asked her (which I shouldn't have, but at this point I didn't give a shit) how long she's been working at her current position.  After that, as quickly as she had gone postal on me, I suddenly heard silence.  It was one of those silences where you know the person is just sitting there with their mouth half open with nothing to say. (how you like me now biatch)  So I asked her to hold on and looked for her information.  I came back on the phone, gave her her information and kindly asked this customer (totally facialed bitch) if I could help her with anything else?  She timidly said no and hung up. &lt;br /&gt;God, how I love this customer service shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-3359771926314575845?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/3359771926314575845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=3359771926314575845' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/3359771926314575845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/3359771926314575845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2008/09/gotta-love-that-customer-service-thing.html' title='Gotta love that Customer Service thing.'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SL712a28NjI/AAAAAAAAAB8/rEaaDOX9HfY/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-7626728105767080859</id><published>2008-08-18T11:41:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T11:51:08.963-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Lauren's You Hungry blog: YUM!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v318/Tamastara/2008/You%20Hungry/2008july074.jpg" align="right" hspace="8" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The mention of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://onokinegrindz.typepad.com/ono_kine_grindz/2004/05/you_hungry.html"&gt;You Hungry&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; brings up tasty visions of fresh corned beef &amp;amp; cabbage, succulent kalua pig, &amp;amp; steaming shoyu chicken, all in mom-style portions with big scoops of rice.   I also recall it being on the corner of Atkinson &amp;amp; Kapiolani, where we'd wait patiently for a parking stall because the reward would be worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You Hungry has since continued the tradition of good, real food under the new ownership of &lt;a href="http://starbulletin.com/2007/10/10/business/story02.html"&gt;Joel Cabais&lt;/a&gt; (son of Jay Cabais, Honolulu steak plate pioneer), his brother Donovan, &amp;amp; cousin Jason of Ono Hawaiian Steak.   Recently You Hungry went to the streets, winning &lt;a href="http://www.honolulumagazine.com/Honolulu-Magazine/March-2008/Best-of-HONOLULU-Magazine-2008/Food/Best-Lunch-Wagon/index.php"&gt;Honolulu Magazine's Best Lunch Wagon for 2008&lt;/a&gt;.   With the help of David Hayashi, they are now implementing plans for world domination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously.   You gotta try their sauces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;When my brother told me he was taking me to lunch at a lunchwagon, I was a little skeptical.   My experience with lunchwagons is pretty noobish.   I remember visiting one by the boats near Ala Moana Beach Park perhaps 13 years ago, a lunchwagon outside Queens Physicians Office Building with my dad &amp;amp; I think I've gone to Tsukenjo's once.   I'm a drive thru girl when it comes to lunch, mostly due to laziness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I trust my brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v318/Tamastara/2008/You%20Hungry/youhungry2.jpg" align="left" hspace="8" /&gt;Around 12:30 (lunchtime) we found street parking on South Street practically in front of our lunch destination, in front of which there was already a line of 5-6 people, &amp;amp; a few others who had already ordered, or were perhaps just bathing in the enticing smell of hot food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunchwagon menu boards intimidate me.   I always think I want something, &amp;amp; then at the last minute I decide I want something else, but I'm not entirely sold on that something else &amp;amp; I can't really be 100% sure that's what I actually want, but I'm already at the front of the line &amp;amp; everyone is looking at me expectantly.   So then I order what I'd decided on initially that I wanted to change my mind about.   And then  after I pay I figure out what it was that I actually wanted to order.   But it's too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that's why I go to drive thrus.   Anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were already a number of items already sold out on the lunchwagon menu board.   Naturally, I immediately found something I'd like to eat amongst the sold out stuff (fresh corned beef!!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were moving ahead in line pretty fast &amp;amp; I had to make a decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v318/Tamastara/2008/You%20Hungry/youhungrymenuboard.jpg" align="right" hspace="8" /&gt;My brother informed me he was going to order the Fried Ahi Poke, reassuring me he wouldn't be able to finish the whole thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so there I was, &amp;amp; there was only one person left in front of us in line.   My brother had already decided what he was going to order, but I still didn't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I considered the Roast Pork with gravy, but thought that might be too flagrantly unhealthy --- I'd have to come back here alone to order that.   The Garlic Chicken sounded tempting, but I wasn't in a real chicken mood, &amp;amp; Crab Stuffed Salmon felt a little too adventurous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked again, forlornly, at the bottom of the menu board where "Fresh Corned Beef w/ Cabbage" sported a little note saying "OUT."   I thought of a few reasons why I didn't need to have Corned Beef for lunch today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then we were at the front of the line &amp;amp; the guy in the lunchwagon was looking at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother had ordered his Fried Ahi Poke, &amp;amp; was looking at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind went completely blank.   I didn't know what I felt like eating.   Everything sounded good.   They were out of fresh corned beef.   Ooh, Pork Adobo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll have the Hamburger Steak please," I said.   "All rice.   Brown rice.   Thank you."   Sheesh, I'm such a dork.   I didn't even let him tell me I could have toss, but if I'd been a lunchwagon connoisseur I'd have known that tossed greens is a common plate lunch option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I handled that well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v318/Tamastara/2008/You%20Hungry/youhungry3.jpg" align="left" hspace="8" /&gt;Our plates came &amp;amp; we set up on the picnic table next to the wagon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother had gotten me a small sample of You Hungry's secret recipe Sweet Wasabi sauce.   Whoa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had wasabi/mayo dressings that went well on burgers &amp;amp; wasabi/miso dips that added color to seafood, but this sauce was pure happiness just by itself.   As I've said in other blogs, I'm not the huge sauce person; I like my food plain with minimal seasoning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this sauce tasted winz just on the tip of my finger.   I was too busy enjoying the bright, expansive flavors to even try to deconstruct what I was tasting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could put this stuff on anything.   Ok, maybe not ice cream.   Worth a try anyway, though.   It was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v318/Tamastara/2008/You%20Hungry/?action=view&amp;amp;current=youhungryfriedpoke.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v318/Tamastara/2008/You%20Hungry/youhungryfriedpokesmall.jpg" align="right" hspace="6" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v318/Tamastara/2008/You%20Hungry/youhungryfriedahipoke.jpg" align="right" hspace="6" /&gt;My brother's Fried Ahi Poke looked &amp;amp; smelled so good that I immediately felt like a loser.   The chunks of ahi were soft &amp;amp; perfectly cooked, seasoned with some enchanting citrus flavor.   If only I could order this by the bucket &amp;amp; take it to the bar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously my brother had been here before!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v318/Tamastara/2008/You%20Hungry/?action=view&amp;amp;current=youhungryhamburgersteak.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v318/Tamastara/2008/You%20Hungry/hamburgersteak.jpg" align="left" hspace="6" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v318/Tamastara/2008/You%20Hungry/?action=view&amp;amp;current=youhungryhamburgersteak2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v318/Tamastara/2008/You%20Hungry/youhungryhamburgersteak2a.jpg" align="left" hspace="6" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Resignedly I turned to my panic-ordered hamburger steak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I lifted the condensation-drenched lid I was greeted with the smell of rich, homemade brown gravy &amp;amp; beef.   My hamburger steak was tender, meaty, &amp;amp; swimming in delicious gravy.   I'm proud to say that I didn't make it through the rice.   But that hamburger steak disappeared in its entirety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was really good.   I made a good choice after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either that, or there are no bad choices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Monday thru Friday, 10am-1:30pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Two locations: South &amp;amp; Halekauila, Alakea &amp;amp; Beretania.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-7626728105767080859?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/7626728105767080859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=7626728105767080859' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/7626728105767080859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/7626728105767080859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2008/08/laurens-you-hungry-blog-yum.html' title='Lauren&apos;s You Hungry blog: YUM!!!'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-7978063672555165010</id><published>2008-08-01T08:43:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T01:12:33.376-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Charlotte Somtimes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SJNeybqfZ1I/AAAAAAAAAB0/xaWfFrpPt_4/s1600-h/charlottesometimes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SJNeybqfZ1I/AAAAAAAAAB0/xaWfFrpPt_4/s320/charlottesometimes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229627812819724114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALL I CAN SAY IS: WOW!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-7978063672555165010?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/7978063672555165010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=7978063672555165010' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/7978063672555165010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/7978063672555165010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2008/08/charlotte-somtimes.html' title='Charlotte Somtimes'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SJNeybqfZ1I/AAAAAAAAAB0/xaWfFrpPt_4/s72-c/charlottesometimes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-936109416174412319</id><published>2008-07-28T09:16:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T01:12:33.457-10:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Experience</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SI4f-i5xQaI/AAAAAAAAABk/hFo44lmbRHY/s1600-h/tennis-racket-balls%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228151376805183906" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SI4f-i5xQaI/AAAAAAAAABk/hFo44lmbRHY/s320/tennis-racket-balls%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I was little, I played Soccer. When my husband was younger, he played Tennis. It was tennis that brought us to the Kailua Raquet Club yesterday evening to watch the Blue Moon Mens' Doubles Tournament. I have never watched tennis except on tv, so this was a new experience for me and one that I would do again.  The people were friendly (this guy gave Nico free ice cream), the food was decent and there was actually beer and alcohol being served. I was also surprised to see such an ecclectic mix of people.  I guess tennis is something that appeals to everyone.  Nico had a great time running around and actually paused to watch the match for about 2 minutes.  Then he was off and running.  I'm thankful to my husband for bringing us to the tournament to experience something new.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until next post...  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-936109416174412319?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/936109416174412319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=936109416174412319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/936109416174412319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/936109416174412319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2008/07/new-experience.html' title='A New Experience'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SI4f-i5xQaI/AAAAAAAAABk/hFo44lmbRHY/s72-c/tennis-racket-balls%255B1%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-3276087523941933697</id><published>2008-07-25T13:39:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T01:12:33.578-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow!!! That was quick.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SI4lPgtYlUI/AAAAAAAAABs/VAPBR9S3A-U/s1600-h/ist2_1227714-time-flies-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SI4lPgtYlUI/AAAAAAAAABs/VAPBR9S3A-U/s320/ist2_1227714-time-flies-3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228157165832279362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;back in august of '07, we were deciding whether we wanted nico to start preschool when he turned 2. we decided for it because we wanted him to get used to a class environment, socialize with other children and we wanted to give my parents a break since they were watching him everyday. after he turned 2 in august, we started nico in september '07 with excitement, anxiety &amp;amp; high hopes. we learned that he was considered an early 2 and was the youngest in the class. we discovered that our son is not a bit camera shy (must get that from his dad) as we bought his first of many school picture packages to the tune of about $115 which contained EVERYTHING (you know, except for the kitchen sink). we then experienced, that it would take our son about a week and a half to stop crying everytime we dropped him off. for the former, i would have to give my husband extreme props for being the one who would have to endure the crying since he dropped our son off. we also found out that they go through alot of pullups at school. probably just as much as we go through at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now it's july '08 and today is the last day of school until august 4th. on the 4th, nico will begin in the 3-4 class in a new room with some new faces and some old. the teachers in his class will be ones that he's familiar with from the 2's. in the 3-4 class, they don't allow the kids to come to school with pullups anymore. they have to come to school with underwear only. this would be great except for one catch...he's not potty trained yet. so instead of buying the motherlode of pullups, we have to buy a crap load of underwear since i'm sure he'll have more than one accident during the day. the good thing about the new class, is the fact that the tuition goes down about $50.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really can't believe that the year went by so quickly. sheesh, is this how i'm gonna measure my years now? at the beginning and ending of the school years? yikes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so here's to a soon-to-be new school year. another year of learning, discovering, mistake making, and experimenting with new and wonderful things that he can add to his world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;until next post...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-3276087523941933697?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/3276087523941933697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=3276087523941933697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/3276087523941933697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/3276087523941933697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2008/07/wow-that-was-quick.html' title='Wow!!! That was quick.'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SI4lPgtYlUI/AAAAAAAAABs/VAPBR9S3A-U/s72-c/ist2_1227714-time-flies-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-453350846271508482</id><published>2008-07-21T10:30:00.001-10:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T01:12:33.589-10:00</updated><title type='text'>A Pretty Good Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SITyCd8R9rI/AAAAAAAAABY/0Ggss8e9zbE/s1600-h/lovefest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225567591867741874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SITyCd8R9rI/AAAAAAAAABY/0Ggss8e9zbE/s320/lovefest.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;soooo, i went to lovefest this past saturday. i was kinda dreading it since i haven't been since '05 when i think i was the only person there who was 8 months pregnant. that's what happens when you have give your husband a ride. thank God for brenda who came to hang out with me. i was dreading the people walking around like zombies banging into you. i was dreading the strobe lights. i was dreading the squealing sounds that come up every so often from a variety of songs playing on the main stage. the dread that i had did come to play. there were the zombies banging into me, the strobe lights that made it hard for me to step over the people sitting on ground in random places, and the squealing coming from various songs. on the other hand, i found a place to just hang out on a grass hill, away from the zombies and was able to listen to better music from a great dj who didn't play squealing music. i ended up having a great time with some great friends. thank God for the three different stages. am i going again next year? i'm not too sure. it all depends on what plans life has for me. until next post....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-453350846271508482?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/453350846271508482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=453350846271508482' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/453350846271508482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/453350846271508482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2008/07/pretty-good-night.html' title='A Pretty Good Night'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SITyCd8R9rI/AAAAAAAAABY/0Ggss8e9zbE/s72-c/lovefest.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-4863186051165064562</id><published>2008-07-08T08:22:00.001-10:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T01:12:33.719-10:00</updated><title type='text'>ARRRRRGGGGHHHHH</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SHOwePAYljI/AAAAAAAAABQ/eRkkFyYYLVw/s1600-h/littlemissstubborn.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220710426523244082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SHOwePAYljI/AAAAAAAAABQ/eRkkFyYYLVw/s320/littlemissstubborn.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;This is the way that I feel today. There was just too much to do and to do it by myself didn't help matters. Granted, I should have said something but as always, my mind frame is, "Do it yourself. That way you're the only one to blame." When I left the house, I pretty much did everything. I'm just hoping that he remembers the things that I had asked him to do. Bye for now...with fingers crossed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-4863186051165064562?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/4863186051165064562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=4863186051165064562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/4863186051165064562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/4863186051165064562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2008/07/arrrrrgggghhhhh.html' title='ARRRRRGGGGHHHHH'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SHOwePAYljI/AAAAAAAAABQ/eRkkFyYYLVw/s72-c/littlemissstubborn.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-7138100501993188441</id><published>2008-06-24T14:37:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T01:12:34.067-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Ever had one of THOSE days?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SGGU3bP-HOI/AAAAAAAAABI/G_3O9H2tNyY/s1600-h/tired.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215613523400203490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SGGU3bP-HOI/AAAAAAAAABI/G_3O9H2tNyY/s320/tired.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I think this picture says it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-7138100501993188441?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/7138100501993188441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=7138100501993188441' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/7138100501993188441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/7138100501993188441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2008/06/ever-had-one-of-those-days.html' title='Ever had one of THOSE days?'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SGGU3bP-HOI/AAAAAAAAABI/G_3O9H2tNyY/s72-c/tired.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-6089899140051823536</id><published>2008-06-04T18:18:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T01:12:34.237-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Henry Wong</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SEdpaSagjSI/AAAAAAAAAAg/iU_ANIRcTEI/s1600-h/henrywong1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208247394417806626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SEdpaSagjSI/AAAAAAAAAAg/iU_ANIRcTEI/s320/henrywong1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Heeeeeerrrrrre's Henry!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Henry Wong.  He's an eight week old English Cocker Spaniel.  Here's me believing that everything happens for a reason.  We were looking for a puppy for Nico and just so happens that Rich's Aunty's Spaniel had a litter of puppies.  We really lucked out and she gave him to us for FREE.  She usually sells her males for $1200 and her females for $1300.  She said that it would be Nico's birthday present.  I told Nico not to ask them for any presents for about 10 years. =)  We're all getting used to him since he's only been home for 2 days.  It'll be a challenge since we haven't had a dog in our house for about 20 years.  So any pointers that anyone reading this blog can give would be greatly appreciated.  We're hoping to start him on puppy training as soon as all of his shots are pau.  Evidently we can't take him around any other dogs until his shots are finished.  I think the only person that doesn't like Henry right now would be our Ninja cat, Rusty.  So here begins our adventures with Henry Wong, future doggie ninja.   Just a side note: he drinks alot of water...i hope he doesn't turn into a water-holic like his father.  I just crack myself up.  Hee...hee...hee...hee...hee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-6089899140051823536?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/6089899140051823536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=6089899140051823536' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/6089899140051823536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/6089899140051823536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2008/06/mr-henry-wong.html' title='Mr. Henry Wong'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/SEdpaSagjSI/AAAAAAAAAAg/iU_ANIRcTEI/s72-c/henrywong1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-8704553196039856261</id><published>2008-06-03T15:59:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T16:01:09.626-10:00</updated><title type='text'>New Edition</title><content type='html'>No!!! Not New Edition from the 80's.  We've got a new addition to our family.  For suspense purposes, more to follow as soon as I take some pictures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-8704553196039856261?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/8704553196039856261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=8704553196039856261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/8704553196039856261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/8704553196039856261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-edition.html' title='New Edition'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682857439422588431.post-4819265586471924728</id><published>2008-04-10T13:46:00.000-10:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T15:22:40.406-10:00</updated><title type='text'>Living life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Today I got a quote that went like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;"It's not who your are that holds you back, it's who you think you're not." - Anon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;This is so true. I mean, if you think you're not good enough for something, be it sports, job, relationship, then you won't get want you want out of the situation. Unfortunately, this is how it is for most people out there. We all mindf*c* ourselves so much into thinking that life couldn't possibly give us a fair shake, that we just settle. We settle for the crappy job or settle for the partner that treats you like crap, because of the old addage, "That's life."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Don't get me wrong, there are the optimists out there. The so-called, "happy people" who have seen the pot at the end of rainbow. They are the self confident and the silver lining seers that believe that every house has a picket fence and is filled with a family with 2.5 kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I, unfortunately, am not one of the silver lining people. These are the mottos that I live by: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;God doesn't give us anything that we can't handle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Everything happens for a reason.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Always expect the worst. That way, you're not suprised if it happens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So, think about your life. Which path do you follow? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Until next post...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682857439422588431-4819265586471924728?l=contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/feeds/4819265586471924728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682857439422588431&amp;postID=4819265586471924728' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/4819265586471924728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682857439422588431/posts/default/4819265586471924728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://contemplatingcontemplation.blogspot.com/2008/04/today-i-got-quote-that-went-like-this.html' title='Living life'/><author><name>Krissy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07442243715317901132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__Hivq_c0Z24/TA4pKHJOa9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/H4uZEuRW66M/S220/nikel1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
