tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65024247008727921702024-02-19T09:49:38.594-06:00The Many Adventures of HP!hepeterson1021http://www.blogger.com/profile/04189520495343500151noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6502424700872792170.post-31060221491072888482011-10-14T14:21:00.003-05:002011-10-14T17:42:37.782-05:00Miso! Miso!<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It seems I have neglected this blog for long enough.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">What's happened since last time I wrote?</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Violett passed her 365 day mark ... aka first birthday:</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Her favorite things to do include reading, playing in the sprinkler, and being cheeky in general.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">If you ask her where her belly button is, she will gladly show you, as well as lift your shirt up to gain access to your belly button region, which is one of her favorite spots to tickle. She does this accompanied by saying "tickticktickticktick". She can also show you the location of her ears, nose, mouth, hair, eyes, fingers, and toes upon request. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Little Goopy's favorite words are shoes, fish, up, NO!, oh no, gentle, vroom-vroom (car), mao (cat), and dirty. Violett absolutely hates to be dirty. She manages to get dirty quite easily, but when she realizes she has a crumb or tiny speck of dirt on her hands, she may throw a fit until you wipe it off. She may or may not have adopted a complex from me in which everything needs to be clean. She regularly takes the towels from the kitchen and attempts to scrub the floor, or place miscellaneous items (actual trash or otherwise) in the rubbish bin. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Other happenings include Violett, Hope, and I all getting stung by scorpions this summer. We had an ... infestation ... and they tend to camouflage well with our carpet. Luckily no one had an allergic reaction to the sting. Violett may have handled it the best out of all of us ....</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In June, Violett and I accompanied KP and David to Sierra Leone to work aboard the Africa Mercy, and JP joined us after about two weeks. It was great to be back, but so so different from any other time I've been. Violett loved the social atmosphere and a more structured schedule than she's used to at home. I struggled a bit, but did enjoy my time on the whole, and was happy to reconnect with some old friends, especially Hannah Lewis! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After five weeks in Sierra Leone, V and I said "au revoir" to Africa, and travelled to Paris, then London. The traveling segments of this summer trip left something to be desired ... like a noose ... but once we arrived at our destinations, we were fine. We spent 16 hours in the Paris airport on layover, and due to the lack of sleep I achieved due to the refusal of a certain <b>Violett Ingrid Peterson</b> to sleep on our night flight from Freetown, combined with the confined space of the airplane, and general lack of comfort sitting in the airport, we were two semi-grumpy, and incredibly tired migrants. Hannah picked us up from the airport in London, then we journeyed to the West Midlands, and finally arrived at her home. All in all, from the time we disembarked from the Africa Mercy to the time we arrived in Bromsgrove with Hannah, we had been traveling for a grueling 30 hours.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This is how we spent some of our time whilst in the UK:</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Girls night out</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Visit to Wales</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We attended the wedding of my beautiful friend and former roommate, Emily</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Reunion with my soulmate, Carolina Zoia</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Visit to Hyland Park</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">London sightseeing with Carolina, D, Helena, Kyle, and Lala</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After all this, unfortunately it was time to return. There was another horrible journey home which included 12 hours in the Heathrow airport, a 10 hour plane trip - 4 hours of which Violett screamed on my lap, and 9 hours of which I was crying like a baby, and a 5 hour car ride home from Houston in a car with no air conditioning in 110 degree heat. It was great to see my crack-sibling again. Isn't she adorable?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">About two weeks after we returned to Texas, JP made her way home, and about a month after that, KP arrived. David decided to stay on board until the end of field service in December. Being that David is the most social person I know, I wasn't surprised that he found ship life to be greater than or equal to social paradise. Alas, I really miss my broski. And V needs her uncle back.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I've bided my time since then with work and college (taking Financial Accounting and Mathematics for Business aka calculus) which have proved challenging, but interesting. Steve is here also so we've been spending a fair amount of time together as well. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Blink-182 concert with Steve</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Basshunter gig with the girls</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">AAV (Annual AJay visit)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Things I'm not looking forward to ... Steve going back to England.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That's it.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Peace out.</span></div>
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<br /></div>hepeterson1021http://www.blogger.com/profile/04189520495343500151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6502424700872792170.post-14035524519083720842011-03-30T14:09:00.005-05:002011-04-03T22:47:06.696-05:00Questions...<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This isn't a "light read"; so if you're not wanting to face the dark and slightly depressing questions I may or may not bring up, than stare at this picture and then google videos of laughing babies. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3fSuByHxrNoJLhzGbnW-gy26wFD2TMKiXyTEz_w277wRaVYLTV2JwiArd5QdpLYtF6OEv8zA_w9qkhsQG9Rrb5uD9UJcBxeZ1yjwiR_g7r0fYuSrxDP05X6duYGvRGctSRu4-nkl1vp_D/s320/DSC04958.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589987164317954322" /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">To paraphrase a famous elf from a famous movie, "a shadow and a threat has been growing in mind". Please don't read this and assume that I've lost my faith; I've simply had these looming questions and doubts, which eventually lead to a much bigger question. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">That question being, <i><b>why</b></i> do we exist?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I've gotten a few answers, all of which resemble this, taken from the Westminster Catechism:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:medium;"><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;font-size:small;">Q. 1. What is the chief end of man?</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;">A. Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever.</span></div></span><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: bold; font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;font-size:small;">Q. 2. What rule hath God given to direct us how we may glorify and enjoy him?</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;">A. The Word of God, which is contained in the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, is the only rule to direct us how we may glorify and enjoy him.</span></div></span><p></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Apparently, we exist to glorify our creator. Which to me seems simply selfish. The Bible claims that God is love. If this is true, how is God showing his love to us by placing us in a world that is filled with pain, suffering, and death? If God is all powerful, and combined with his love for us, why does he make (or allow) earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes, and other natural disasters to ravage the world, causing death and destruction in their wake? Evidently, the state of the earth is the consequence of the fall of man, tracing back to Adam and Eve falling into temptation and disobeying their creator. So I suppose you could say that natural disasters are a fault of man.</span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But if God is omniscient, then he would have known that we would use our free will to disobey, and therefore, pain and evil would enter the world. It's all around us - we hurt each other accidentally, we hurt each other on purpose. We have physical pain; our bodies are broken, dying. We feel pain when people we care about are hurt, dying, leaving. Of course there are good things in life. There is beauty and joy. I'm not saying that the good isn't worth dealing with the bad. I'm just saying that if God is everything they say he is, why did he create us, and put us in a violent and turbulent world with inhabitants that are equally violent? If he knew all that would occur, then why? If we hadn't been created, than we wouldn't experience the beauty of this life. But if we hadn't been created, than we wouldn't know the difference, would we?</span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">In speaking to a friend about this issue, her response was "Well God is God. He doesn't have to play by our rules." (Don't read this part, Grandma) That's bull shit, I'm sorry. I'm going to need a better answer than that. </span></span></p><p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Don't think I'm depressed and unhappy. I'm going through a difficult time, I admit that. But I have many blessings in my life. These are just questions I consider fairly important.</span></span></p></span></div>hepeterson1021http://www.blogger.com/profile/04189520495343500151noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6502424700872792170.post-16231251077161769952010-07-18T01:15:00.014-05:002010-07-18T23:19:48.844-05:00Push and shove, rubber glove, turtle dove, LOVE!<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Since my last post, what has transpired?</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Meet the little VIP:</span></span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwV-ViA2E8WQXXxs8pxPdgQQjfjtloc1fIOdYerlGuADLxlP163ARw0yYFobEa-t_vqoUc7N6WwrTGK-i-aTmDiGcuQkzX_eH_h4jGl0KE3rAiGstj9WWSSgh6gZK7XWJKiP_PDQmCX4Yu/s320/DSC02944.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495135435884506210" /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;font-size:small;">Violett keeps me quite busy with all sorts of things. Usually she's my little sidekick who just happens to be way cuter than I am, but I do do things like feed her, bathe her, blah blah blah. We participate in activities like walk around, lie on our backs, and talk jibberish. She's the kind of person who says "I love you" by throwing up sour milk down your shirt, the kind of person who poops and then giggles about it, the type of person who likes to party when normal people are safely tucked into bed for the evening. She pulls it all off rather well, all things considered.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">In an attempt to teach her more about the great country of Canada, we watched "Strange Brew", with ol' Bob & Doug McKenzie, but she may be a little young yet. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Even though she's apparently not interested in visiting Canada, she is a very accomplished traveler, especially for someone not even three months old. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">She's been to 10 US states</span></span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg1oRaEUwXgR446dgj4XQo8cSxrP2uSEX8vFK-rVDzPPS-SN8OY0VU9NpqOhja64PPXC89m0gd3RSbpIkl0u2IuzzoXu8IuGHph166PyRLdp8s6KR2CoMOj5jExkUj9ZZAQI1GcaePLwmG/s320/SDC10613.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495136019863223362" /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Dipped her little toes in the Atlantic Ocean</span></span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7dIZQRHYKlQXtlN4LHyWKgaVa3kAniiFynm48c1H7F2u-YAFacyKkCttAYszyYMDltHhsXzv7ssFuHU3UEDwPOztQ2c8q9qt_fzNcYG1mth62SwNZ1DF9VhNT5qi0x3nHVB3elzQnBxVl/s320/ocean.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495136407113854770" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Visited Sea World</span></span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinG3VH5Hu1rFCy5Zp3rI0vzpvbHnEFE1gK_74siBRIvzQ96OPtYO-ywwn5Ohp94R-yozdojznGd23vlEvmbZHiu8g0GqcxIQUCjXYTiRxDZc0Y3Vho0M-iHd4dXgQoBiBjkCc0Kr83tr8E/s320/DSC03385.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495137221605414482" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Gone to a college graduation</span></span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNtP32hT-XEWnM5mF0tCTmKh1XR7aChs2HEym59UO5kW2sNHBpwSswqXvIeClqUJpJbvapc3MjW16LP1moxUERFtPHDVUcmh7bWDKZZAAFqCIV8tn9hNTbICwCk187LctC_zJWoEH-r3Za/s320/DSC03040.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495137725163762082" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">and attended a wedding</span></span></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0C2MIdHnJzNZEXt7qpG6K_kad3J7VP11g6upmgW9VZFBU6g2Y69r5mJGbjEVryjkFxKY01DXRdM5E6YUzpIjyF8u2dcX435SFUGB_l8uT0HmmVmTUJ6YD5IGKTpK0JRXClyBjwEnaAblh/s320/SDC10506.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495138342522746546" /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Fairly impressive.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I've tried to instill in her a sense of style (obviously inherited from moi) but she usually throws up on the stylish outfits I put her in ... in which I put her. Am I deterred? Absolutely not. Throwing up is one of her favorite pastimes, so I consider it more her seal of approval.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">What do we do on a normal day?</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">We usually begin the day with a good stretch around 0700, followed by a little breakfast at 0800. We watch the news, consume our drink of choice (milk for her, coffee for me), practice holding basic items (usually ones that rattle), listen to Mozart or Coldplay, walk outside in the shade, repeat. Of course there is diaper changing, clothes changing, bath-time, and the occasional nap thrown in the mix. Usually around 2200 she will get sleepy, then wake up at 0700 to start the whole process again. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Sometimes I work around the VIP's schedule, doing fun and exciting things like dishes, laundry, and general home-upkeep. On some special occasions we even leave the house. After little Goopy shuts her eyes for the night, I get my work done for Mercy Ships, then pass out - or try to. It's the thought that counts, right?</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The nights, however ... sometimes Violett wakes up and decides she would rather browse and carouse her little crib instead of sleeping. Other evenings, she stays in a state of half-sleep - moaning, groaning, tossing, turning, honking, squeaking, farting, wheezing, huffing, puffing, snoring ... she can be a little loud sometimes.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">But, I've got the push and shove, rubber glove, turtle dove, LOVE for her. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">She's pretty much the coolest person ever.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">H!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>hepeterson1021http://www.blogger.com/profile/04189520495343500151noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6502424700872792170.post-26899501248193065412010-04-01T10:57:00.004-05:002010-04-01T11:12:30.835-05:00I miss you already.<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">It doesn't make any sense. </span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">It's so hard to trust God when you don't understand, but I suppose that's what faith is all about. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">But now, thus says the LORD, your Creator, O Jacob, </span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">And He who formed you, O Israel, </span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">"Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; </span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I have called you by name; you are mine! </span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; </span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">And through the rivers, they will not overflow you </span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, </span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Nor will the flame burn you."</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">To Hector, the most talented, beautiful soul I've been blessed to know.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I'll love you forever, and I'll see you someday in Heaven.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I won't ever forget what you told me. Not ever.</span></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455202010189279858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 301px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMVkuwr5EbmrX36zMwQQmqkK78PYl2ktygLLndERkI4eWWUEk1OgsGxL49cAqCadE5X9JBRH5L1EZM576vqDnbah41huoepX0f7qpHXND4n-Or7Wgws9JsH5GF1oIH16WjlyrSk2RRMe8G/s400/24555_530292838769_202805030_31187740_6308765_n.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div>hepeterson1021http://www.blogger.com/profile/04189520495343500151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6502424700872792170.post-58300907105113395442010-03-23T11:28:00.005-05:002010-03-23T11:53:49.042-05:00What's cooking?<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I feel like I've been pregnant for 5 years. </span><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Every other "mom-to-be" seems to be in the express lane, making their kids like a TV dinner instant meal, and here I am with a Thanksgiving dinner in my stomach....taking forever.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I guess this way is better, TV dinners don't have much nutritional value anyway. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">....................That doesn't really sound right.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I don't eat children.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I'll stop now. </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Then there are the women who have babies like they're on a mission to repopulate the planet ... in a hurry ... who are "Supermoms". The kind that have perfectly well-behaved children and still manage to look stunning ... (Yes, Mia, you.)</span></div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451870251586985602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicVpMWY3ORdUQrL9Or0PFPom32LMOdvt1yiFa8eZJ2cQinRVpRYaRKtYYMpl0xZQgKDLXGgzXlWlZ2H1haCyy-kxitk-uUPQ1uHZ1UB5ug61ZW9Y8zUtA4WMFSTMKqaFF4nLQHSNulYLY0/s200/18057_571281201300_56903026_33452215_6646046_n.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">How do you turn into one of those?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">But........I think even those mothers would admit that they have no idea what is going on. I never know what's going on. I didn't even have to become a parent to admit that. </span></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:85%;">H!</span><br /></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">PS. I don't like my obstetrician's moustache.</span> </div><div></div>hepeterson1021http://www.blogger.com/profile/04189520495343500151noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6502424700872792170.post-43290283161737506402010-03-12T14:52:00.019-06:002010-03-15T14:57:49.281-05:00The Upper-lip Stain<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><strong>This is dedicated to Perry Ruiz: a really classy guy.</strong></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447858916776015778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglz-qH69TPJd7NSltMY0yPKnxThQ6JLdN6vBFVnGObmj2IT05xKgoqb2N2v44wO2zH1W1qquQaaSacLkc2da_pgAWmW4ZDs9mlldhRwOOQP6wR1Bd18JUp14BgikHwyXx4TMt9296SdD7V/s320/pdog.bmp" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Over the years, we have been plagued by what common society calls "the moustache".</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">What causes this phenomenon, and what would possess someone to choose this lifestyle?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><strong>Hypothesis: </strong></span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Men (and the occasional hairy-faced woman) are under the false impression that they look appealing and/or attractive.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">The problem could be caused, and certainly escalated by a personal lack of razors, or other trimming equipment. In younger adults, the appearance of a moustache (it's worst form, in my opinion) is a young man's bragging right. "Hey, I'm going through puberty, check out the 'stache!" </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">There are many different types of these horrendous anomalies. Let's take a little tour, shall we?</span> </div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">The Hungarian:</span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447858051541797858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 203px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhOid1Tv7pSFz-yBSQp5OcychmhQpgazrR44rxNLVidRr29ZfZkFoRVrwaUCyHT6z6TfeChl_2m7FSzpx1S9xdXVvSsdPRvVCR5hwjamlwgBYCDvqmfUCsONvVXSQsilw3UWQoKtSB79c0/s320/hungarian.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">The Toothbrush: (aka: the Hitler 'stache)</span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447860490655466338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 202px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpXj6_WLr-odY04_-40EEZqgH1wwAazn-QzEI3xSqw21Ef3hmJNHXsLzRMGa2ug2lQ6p8ACNq_0x1Tf_jcENg9O2xv2UB4XPcbcF7T2iZyUZSuI9vO3boewZslJ68u3FkQDqahbgtlD9cT/s320/toothbrush.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">The Handlebar:</span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447858421938555602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 261px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9JTYIjtySqBQ29wAskEm_i2gHkWkY3tivZfJCtG_pSC9v5hTphJpGHpo2iF2lK0QcztxsuTPZdCciy87GDaxkseSzzGOGwQiKZ8Xxm2hhr0bXs3H19Bx4fmJ0oSlAxs8cI1HVMkHvGzr7/s320/handlebar.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">The Fu Manchu:</span><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447858623893886706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 293px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja84m89E4YTV2aOPizcbl_YSqIrBHIrjw13hSrK2Pzz-GoPfUyoTBNQHa7CTGcbr70SecTMDTqTirkXcF4eKdiXAVX_Y6TLAzY0PvKXp5S6aOtndMfjHv-rSe_e0GbU1qonNptq4n0X3jC/s320/fumanchu.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Note-worthy people with a Fu Manchu? Anton LaVey, founder of the Church of Satan. Exactly.</span><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Other styles include the "Walrus", the "Chevron", and the "Pencil, which I can't even bring myself to include a picture of, due to my gag-reflex. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">If you have a moustache, you are automatically a creeper. Sorry, that's just how it goes. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Conclusion is this: if you are not one of these two men, you should say "NO" to the moustache.</span><br /><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447859368438209490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7lrD5DJQWtZ-GoYylM3YwX6A84QJWEWFgSYykcxpkSCE9b9siWO-qBiSgnLv0jGMwmkrpBlsGRHlGi1pkCElECdN-fiQMcdBc5t3amUKDO_rjX7jJ4ZRZr6nKY9rtE6DtT0p23wmw1FOO/s320/pdog2.bmp" border="0" /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447859936587989730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 236px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCPCtZVf8fJyPs3kRGxrHbNwaoO7YkTo-Yf4KFV-4b9dchgpBf-r5a7A3kIB0KThqq_IMMcatZvKVAXaWnh0cVbNCV6803ZI11Ab-CNqsoMEb_msAjgMBDlSbdODVrzkoV2XQYRH5uvh8m/s320/howard.bmp" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">H!</span></strong><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div>hepeterson1021http://www.blogger.com/profile/04189520495343500151noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6502424700872792170.post-74991608088065172492010-03-01T14:31:00.010-06:002010-03-01T15:36:46.979-06:00I'm All Complainy<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Back to work in HR ... I feel I have more skill and intelligence than what this project is demanding. I'm sure everyone feels like that with their job from time to time. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Otherwise regarding work: upon my return to the department that hires and fires (among other things) I found someone had commandeered my work space, so I have relocated to the back of the building. The office is huge (though accommodating for an increasingly large person such as myself) with no windows and no visitors. At some point I will have to find a way to stealthily and slyly take back my personal items from the other station ... highlighters, pens, paper clips, etc. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I am attempting to decide whether or not to take internet classes this summer for college. Attempting is the key word there... my summer seems pretty full already. I'm not having much luck; perhaps I should bet on it.... if I sneeze in the next five minutes (good probability there) I will take classes. If I cough.......then no school. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">ack ack</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Other useless updates:</span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFLUpsmjYCZUNjNqHhbGhZfyjZ-C7dm-EEqrBkugBrmxWysafGxO8yh4zriOn35K8xvCVMbEmXDggiaf3sGCjMSpJDWQmGsLSYleO_ZUN46Nk9JOuFJkoQCFKVSTY-AoDaI35_z10kqa7n/s1600-h/train.jpg"></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">The new Train album is the best</span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNv_0TUw0rKUEbmNE-5-wi48iwpPe7FSF2PKRhfYKX4Az4OjseRZkBSVXsXLlInLHOoM1btf_xd5V038SPG0zHAbOw5a_gbz0lY-w5vM2ttpgWILfTWdfACQqhI3CZxH1G23Sssqn2Gkb2/s1600-h/train.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443773977455753890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNv_0TUw0rKUEbmNE-5-wi48iwpPe7FSF2PKRhfYKX4Az4OjseRZkBSVXsXLlInLHOoM1btf_xd5V038SPG0zHAbOw5a_gbz0lY-w5vM2ttpgWILfTWdfACQqhI3CZxH1G23Sssqn2Gkb2/s200/train.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">My back hurts</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><a href="http://pregnant.thebump.com/pregnancy/pregnancy-tools/slideshow/how-big-is-baby.aspx?page=22">Button is as big as a honeydew melon</a></span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5SOY3l1pmmQfR7LmQ_sX_LHNKF0MSnedyyMlscOa2VDo4lzDSHhyNbr3QUZjDG92QZopUSiAYVc9m5W447LYCwkhfRekUplzFDugnB65TWfPOtjMwlfuzL_venZ00wkk6W7dhngybT85/s1600-h/melon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443773584035853170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 161px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5SOY3l1pmmQfR7LmQ_sX_LHNKF0MSnedyyMlscOa2VDo4lzDSHhyNbr3QUZjDG92QZopUSiAYVc9m5W447LYCwkhfRekUplzFDugnB65TWfPOtjMwlfuzL_venZ00wkk6W7dhngybT85/s200/melon.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I'll be indulging on a Big Mac tonight</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">I sat through 4 seasons of pure injustice with Prison Break, only to be completely let down by the ending last night!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">On my quest for a perfectly relaxing cd, I came across an album with my favorite classical tunes with "enthralling sounds of the night". Unfortunately, the cd is crickets chirping very loudly on <em>every</em> track, with my favorite classical tunes playing softly in the back ground. (Maybe) the worst $2.56 I've ever spent. ...Maybe.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">My back hurts</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">My back hurts</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">My back hurts</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">H!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span>hepeterson1021http://www.blogger.com/profile/04189520495343500151noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6502424700872792170.post-43887379034794243522010-02-11T12:59:00.002-06:002010-02-11T13:16:35.537-06:00Just some new gossip<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Well, my New Year's resolution was to occasionally post newsy things on my blog (which is actually a first). As you can see, it takes me a while to get around to things that don't have due dates. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">1st Due date explanation: </span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I have been working in Finance at Mercy Ships for a month now, paying bills that have these so-called due dates. The job has been both challenging and frustrating, but I am expanding my finely tuned set o' skills. Is accounting in my future? We shall see... The job is only temporary for the time being; I am filling in for someone who is making a trip to the Africa Mercy, which has recently arrived in Lome, Togo for the 2011 field service. While I wish I was in Togo (and perhaps away from the snowy, cold weather) my "adventures" here in Texas include this new "temp" job, taking a break from uni, going to bed early, and hanging out with my parents - yes, I have become a home-body. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">2nd Due date explanation:</span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I am now just over 30 weeks pregnant. And while I am nervous and terrified of what this means (and will mean around 21 April), I am quite excited. Monday I start childbirthing classes with my fellow preggers and good friend, Madison. I apologize if this is new information to you (I wasn't really trying to keep secrets) but to be very, very honest for a minute, it's not the ideal situation and was therefore kept on the down-low (the DL for you gangsters). So while I'm not too sure of what my future holds other than dirty diapers and a tight budget, for now, I am taking advantage of the time away from studies, etc. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">In other news, ... wait that's basically it! </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Hopefully all is well with you, my lovely, captive, and attentive audience. :)</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Heather</span>hepeterson1021http://www.blogger.com/profile/04189520495343500151noreply@blogger.com4