tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63924047916436265212011-10-11T10:41:13.961-07:00Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.comBlogger171100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-32517397727254343122011-02-17T18:56:00.000-08:002011-02-19T09:05:49.976-08:00Yesterday a gentleman that I worked with asked if I was high.<div>I wish this was a question that I hadn't heard before.</div><div><br /></div><div>The truth is, is that God is changing me. </div><div>How fun is that.</div><div><br /></div><div>God is showing me things about myself that I had forgotten.</div><div>He is showing me things about myself that I try to forget.</div><div>He is teaching me to slow down.</div><div>He is reminding me that He is<i> jealous</i> for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel hopeful.</div><div>And I feel joy.</div><div>And sometimes people at work just think I'm high.</div><div>But God is changing me. </div><div>For that, it's all worth it.</div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-3251739772725434312?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-31534725905009015512011-02-13T21:30:00.000-08:002011-02-13T22:13:52.529-08:00Good News Everyone.<div>Today is Valentines Day.</div><div><br /></div><div>I will now run through my top 4 memories from Valentine's Day Past:</div><div><br /></div><div>4. Working at American Eagle one year, I looked up to see a dad giving his son a hug. What's so magical about said hug you ask? Well, this particular hug involved a fairly normal looking son being hugged ever so carefully, by his dad that had made the interesting decision to go with two hooks instead of any.other.option. </div><div><br /></div><div>3. In the fifth grade my school was selling Valentine Grams for a dollar. You could send as many as you wanted to whoever you wanted. My best friend got FOURTEEN. I got TWO. One from my best friend and one from Randy, the one kid in class that still smelled like pee.</div><div><br /></div><div>2. A few years back Gene Simmons asked me to dance on Valentine's Day. I said yes.</div><div><br /></div><div>and number one:</div><div><br /></div><div>1. Okay, well number one hasn't happened yet, but here is what my number one will be. Someday a grown man dressed as cupid will come to my office and hopefully sing me a song. Preferably a romantic song at that. Maybe he'll bring flowers. Maybe he'll bring chocolates. But he <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#990000;"><a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://pwwwblog.ibeatyou.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/cupid-2.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=http://www.ibeatyou.com/blog/2010/02/05/funniest-cupid-fails/&amp;usg=__COIjcQE1_9rXztt2a_d9PfkUbEc=&amp;h=464&amp;w=450&amp;sz=41&amp;hl=en&amp;start=0&amp;sig2=WXSkKEtHhRLnq8jp2n3qPQ&amp;zoom=1&amp;tbnid=EvNb3VBJzqzWyM:&amp;tbnh=172&amp;tbnw=163&amp;ei=vMdYTYqvAcrAtgeDrN2xDQ&amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Dgrown%2Bmen%2Bdressed%2Bas%2Bcupid%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Den%26biw%3D1245%26bih%3D645%26tbs%3Disch:1&amp;um=1&amp;itbs=1&amp;iact=hc&amp;vpx=317&amp;vpy=79&amp;dur=36&amp;hovh=228&amp;hovw=221&amp;tx=95&amp;ty=64&amp;oei=vMdYTYqvAcrAtgeDrN2xDQ&amp;page=1&amp;ndsp=17&amp;ved=1t:429,r:1,s:0">will</a></span></span></i> have wings. </div><div><br /></div><div>Happy Valentine's Day.</div><div>Live Long and Prosper.</div><div>xo.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-3153472590500901551?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-23117070267417766272011-02-09T20:28:00.000-08:002011-02-09T20:42:54.996-08:00Well tonight was quite an adventure.<div><br /></div><div>Today in Nashville it snowed cats and dogs. </div><div>When Nashville hears about snow, they shut everything down.</div><div>When Nashville sees snow, everyone flees. All at once.</div><div><br /></div><div>On a normal rush hour drive home it takes me about 30 minutes. </div><div>Today it took 4 hours.</div><div><br /></div><div>And my car didn't even take me all the way home.</div><div><br /></div><div>My precious car that has carried me all over God's creation is now sitting all alone on a hill.</div><div>Thinking about it's life.</div><div><br /></div><div>It could be worse.</div><div><br /></div><div>That's what I kept thinking as I spent quality time alone next to the entire population of Nashville.</div><div><br /></div><div>It could be worse. </div><div>When my cell phone died, I thought, "I'm not too far now, I'll be fine."</div><div>When my car was sliding toward the median, I thought, "At least I'll hit it going five miles an hour."</div><div>When I found a secret back road that no one else found, I though, "20 miles an hour has never felt so fast."</div><div>When I realized that my car was not going to make it up the hill I just started to cry like a baby crier.</div><div>When I realized that now I was stranded and in heels without a cell phone I just got busy praying that God had some magic left in him.</div><div><br /></div><div>God always has magic. </div><div><br /></div><div>A nice young man was walking by and guess what. He had a cell phone. </div><div>This is why you should always have one person's phone number memorized.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was about a 10 minute walk from home and MeLissa met me half way with a coat and mittens and company. </div><div>I needed company.</div><div><br /></div><div>What a day. </div><div>Hopefully my car makes it through the night. </div><div><br /></div><div>Nice Try Nashville. I win again.</div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-2311707026741776627?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-9440382478197210262011-02-06T12:31:00.001-08:002011-02-06T13:10:03.712-08:00Well the Superbowl is today. <div>So is the Puppy Bowl on Animal Planet.</div><div>I wish they called it the Super Puppy Bowl. </div><div><br /></div><div>I wonder if it's a slap in the face for the Cowboys to not be playing in the Superbowl, but to have it in their stadium?</div><div><br /></div><div>I also wonder if Brett Farve is sad he's not a Packer anymore.</div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.draftdaysuit.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/brett-favre-crying.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 298px; height: 414px;" src="http://www.draftdaysuit.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/brett-favre-crying.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.draftdaysuit.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/brett-favre-crying.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=http://www.draftdaysuit.com/tag/brad-childress/&amp;usg=__NtNeWfTC-qa47rjFBV8lX1sVDP8=&amp;h=414&amp;w=298&amp;sz=18&amp;hl=en&amp;start=14&amp;sig2=v83ARUjngSDD2nzh9e7hrg&amp;zoom=1&amp;tbnid=4PKydvJ4BdqkJM:&amp;tbnh=125&amp;tbnw=90&amp;ei=BQpPTdzjBcGBlAfJvsTYDw&amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Dbrett%2Bfavre%2Bsad%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Den%26biw%3D1245%26bih%3D645%26tbs%3Disch:10%2C140&amp;um=1&amp;itbs=1&amp;biw=1245&amp;bih=645"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">yikes</span></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Remember when Brett Favre was in, <i>There'</i><i>s Something About Mary</i>?</div><div><span style="font-style:italic;"></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Remember when Brett Favre's middle name is LORENZO?</div><div><br /></div><div>Remember when Brett Favre grew this sweet beard?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.yougotschooled.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Brett-Favre-funny-beard-300x300.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.yougotschooled.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Brett-Favre-funny-beard-300x300.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://http://www.yougotschooled.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Brett-Favre-funny-beard-300x300.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">ohyeah</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Well, My predictions for the Super Bowl, is Green Bay winning 33 to 13.</div><div>Place your bets on that.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-944038247819721026?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-49658256197822399482011-01-29T11:45:00.001-08:002011-01-29T11:53:01.155-08:00Dear Creepster McGee,<div><br /></div><div>Yes, we can see you watching the entire Zumba class.</div><div>They are glass doors.</div><div>We are not Tyrannosaurus Rexs. </div><div>Just because you are standing still, does not mean we can't see you. </div><div>Please know that the ladies of the Saturday Noon Zumba Class are on the look out for you and your creep face.</div><div>We've sketched your face with and without a mustache.</div><div>Please watch someone else shake their bon bon.</div><div><br /></div><div>Please see us never.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-4965825619782239948?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-31941462776747171222011-01-27T17:33:00.000-08:002011-01-27T18:12:18.015-08:00<a href="http://muitopormuitopoucotempo.tumblr.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">here</span></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://s3prod.weheartit.netdna-cdn.com/images/6022836/tumblr_leiko4Flim1qd9ye6o1_500_large.jpg?1294170986"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 475px; height: 640px;" src="http://s3prod.weheartit.netdna-cdn.com/images/6022836/tumblr_leiko4Flim1qd9ye6o1_500_large.jpg?1294170986" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Dear January,</div><div><div><div><br /></div><div>You have been nice, but not that nice. </div><div>Let's get on to February.</div><div>The month where it's perfectly acceptable to admire people secretly, buy giant </div><div>red teddy bears with sentimental messages stitched into their mid section, and to </div><div>see Never Say Never. Twice. </div><div>"But I will trust in your unfailing love. My heart rejoices in your salvation.</div><div>I will sing to the Lord, for He has been good to me."</div><div>Psalm 13.5&amp;6</div></div></div><div><br /></div><div>see you never january.xo.not.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-3194146277674717122?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-24665537613283968612011-01-21T17:33:00.000-08:002011-01-22T13:55:17.950-08:00<div><div>Dear Diary, </div></div><div><br /></div><div>Today I got relationship advice from an older woman.</div><div>Who I had never carried a conversation with before.</div><div>She advised me to stay far away from men. She said they are bad news.</div><div>Only after one thing. </div><div>Money.</div><div>Okay maybe two things.</div><div>She told me to stay focused. (she didn't specify on what)</div><div>She told me that sometimes men need to find themselves before they can do anything else.</div><div>And sometimes men don't think with their brain.</div><div><br /></div><div>All of that to say, I learned a lot from this nice lady.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-2466553761328396861?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-21200627138659618582011-01-18T19:17:00.000-08:002011-01-18T19:17:00.110-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4o8_7DCXxk/TTUGuEFFpXI/AAAAAAAAADM/1ReHPp-2LHg/s1600/tumblr_lc8vcuwex71qavceo_thumb.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4o8_7DCXxk/TTUGuEFFpXI/AAAAAAAAADM/1ReHPp-2LHg/s320/tumblr_lc8vcuwex71qavceo_thumb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563360303124948338" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4o8_7DCXxk/TTUGh3EKbzI/AAAAAAAAADE/MguIS1i0h2Q/s1600/tumblr_lf6jidPmNB1qemj0ho1_500_thumb.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4o8_7DCXxk/TTUGh3EKbzI/AAAAAAAAADE/MguIS1i0h2Q/s320/tumblr_lf6jidPmNB1qemj0ho1_500_thumb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563360093472976690" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>You're welcome.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-2120062713865961858?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-57891393412464790292011-01-17T17:24:00.000-08:002011-01-17T19:47:11.859-08:00Today I made chocolate chip cookies.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://s3prod.weheartit.netdna-cdn.com/images/4852165/5043236772_41a78b668e_b_large.jpg?1289263787"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 667px;" src="http://s3prod.weheartit.netdna-cdn.com/images/4852165/5043236772_41a78b668e_b_large.jpg?1289263787" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Saw my favorite ladies. In Nashville.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4o8_7DCXxk/TTUDTFPt2UI/AAAAAAAAAC8/SCkW6c7T5h4/s1600/-8.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4o8_7DCXxk/TTUDTFPt2UI/AAAAAAAAAC8/SCkW6c7T5h4/s320/-8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563356541046610242" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Had Peter's. I love Sushi.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://s3prod.weheartit.netdna-cdn.com/images/4529964/tumblr_lahzrlI9YF1qb6qyro1_500_large.jpg?1287780429"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 436px;" src="http://s3prod.weheartit.netdna-cdn.com/images/4529964/tumblr_lahzrlI9YF1qb6qyro1_500_large.jpg?1287780429" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Listened to Shadowfeet on repeat.</div><div><br /></div><div><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Y4KiGN1j1No?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Y4KiGN1j1No?fs=1&amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks Martin Luther King Junior for having a dream, so that I could have the best day ever.</div><div>Okay, not ever.</div><div>But maybe of 2011. </div><div>I'll be funny again soon. </div><div>Don't give up.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-5789139341246479029?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-23484339026346139322011-01-16T12:21:00.000-08:002011-01-16T13:01:08.235-08:00Well, 2011 has started off a little sad.<div>But then again, so did 2010.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes the beginning of a new year has to suck a little, to make me get up and make something happen.</div><div><br /></div><div>In 2010 I...</div><div><br /></div><div>- Learned to Rock Climb.</div><div>- Saw all the Star Trek movies worth seeing. (all but number 1)</div><div>- Made it onto the LOST DVD SET.</div><div>- Was the FIRST rec director for RECHARGE CAMP.</div><div>- Got a BIG GIRL Job where I wear Business Suits.</div><div>- Met Conan O'Brien (yes, I am still talking about it).</div><div>- Wrote my first script. and no it wasn't very good.</div><div>- Gave myself a haircut. and yes, it was awesome.</div><div>- Taught Zumba.</div><div>- Got @ replied to by Donald Miller.</div><div>- Had my first boyfriend (my grandma will die happy)(hopefully not soon).</div><div>and last, but not least</div><div>- Ran a half marathon without peeing my pants.</div><div><br /></div><div>2011 will...</div><div><br /></div><div>- have dancing. so.much.dancing.</div><div>- Chicago Marathon. </div><div>- Graduation. Finally. Yes I took the scenic route. Very Scenic.</div><div>- HOGWARTS.</div><div>- Birthday on the Beach.</div><div>- Finishing my first book. It is real.</div><div><br /></div><div>See you never 2010. </div><div>xo.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-2348433902634613932?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-15867680221652241092011-01-15T09:05:00.000-08:002011-01-15T09:24:43.081-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4o8_7DCXxk/TTHV8KBbySI/AAAAAAAAACs/FxKx-EHjuqY/s1600/IMG_2552.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4o8_7DCXxk/TTHV8KBbySI/AAAAAAAAACs/FxKx-EHjuqY/s320/IMG_2552.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562462244238510370" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://s3prod.weheartit.netdna-cdn.com/images/6306403/4672308103_b6e422025f_z_large.jpg?1295110874"><img style="text-align: center;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 438px; height: 640px; " src="http://s3prod.weheartit.netdna-cdn.com/images/6306403/4672308103_b6e422025f_z_large.jpg?1295110874" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div>Well this is when I learned to upload a photo from my computer.</div><div>Friends for Life.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And this is when I learned how to upload a picture from another website.</div><div>And how could I not upload this sweet tigre. (that's spanish) </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-1586768022165224109?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-84205726479435353442011-01-14T01:55:00.000-08:002011-01-14T02:17:41.830-08:00I have grown up with a birthday on the fourth of july. Every year my birthday party looked like the exact same party with a different version of the bowl cut; Hamburgers, Hotdogs, Cake, and Fireworks. Here's the thing, I've always been bitter about my birthday, until now. <div>I have been bitter about a lot of things.</div><div><br /></div><div>Until now.</div><div><br /></div><div>My best friends and I came up with January is for Fireworks after sitting down for one of our besties bdays for gigantic helpings of pizza. We sat there for a solid hour throwing around ideas of what on earth January could be for.</div><div>New Beginnings? No, too obvious.</div><div>Toots? No, too weird, Erin. (I'm pretty sure that is an exact quote)</div><div>Goldfish? No, Erin.</div><div><br /></div><div>January is for Fireworks. January is celebration. January is for new decisions. January is for realizing that your brother may give you fireworks every year for your birthday, but the truth is that he is my brother and he LOVES ME.</div><div><br /></div><div>Bitter is funny. Bitter means that if you think the worse possible scenario and it comes true, you win. You saw it coming, so take that. </div><div><br /></div><div>False. </div><div><br /></div><div>I will be thankful for every moment my parents loved me. Love me. I will be thankful for every thoughtful card my brother has sent me. I will be so thankful for my friends who understand that sometimes all I need is Revolutionary War facts recited to me so that I can stop thinking about how scary the road is that I'm on, and focus on how little I remember from history class.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-8420572647943535344?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-8356259448151193042011-01-10T06:26:00.000-08:002011-01-10T06:31:57.786-08:00It's almost been two years since I even looked at this blog thing.<div>Recently I've begun to feel a new feeling called "blog envy." </div><div>Everybody else is doing it. </div><div>I want in. </div><div>But first things first. </div><div>I need a new blog design. This green is.not.cutting.it.</div><div>Also, I need a new picture.</div><div>Yikes.</div><div>My black and white picture from 2008 is not hip.</div><div>I need to be hip.</div><div>I also need to learn how to put pictures on here.</div><div>The people need pictures.</div><div>That is all I can think of for now.</div><div>See you never. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-835625944815119304?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-66750739482053435362009-01-26T08:01:00.000-08:002009-01-26T08:16:11.661-08:00I do th<strong><em>i</em></strong>nk about wr<em><strong>i</strong></em>t<em><strong>i</strong></em>ng blogs somet<strong><em>i</em></strong>mes.<br />Mostly<em><strong> i</strong></em>t feels l<em><strong>i</strong></em>ke homework, so <strong><em>i</em></strong>nstead of wr<em><strong>i</strong></em>t<em><strong>i</strong></em>ng a paper,<br />I am go<em><strong>i</strong></em>ng to make a l<em><strong>i</strong></em>st.<br />Th<em><strong>i</strong></em>s will be a qu<em><strong>i</strong></em>ck publ<strong><em>i</em></strong>c serv<strong><em>i</em></strong>ce announcement...<br /><br />Things to not do in public:<br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>Pick your nose</strong>.</span> <span style="font-size:85%;">seems logical, but we can still see you in your car.</span><br /><p><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>Wear Just Tights</strong></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>. </strong>wear something. anything. over them. for the love.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>Discuss Lost theories.</strong> </span><span style="font-size:85%;">I know I am taking a huge risk by including this. <span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"><strong></strong></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#663366;"><em>Lost fans are crazy.</em></span></p><p>These are really the b<em><strong>i</strong></em>g three that have been press<em><strong>i</strong></em>ng on my m<em><strong>i</strong></em>nd. </p><p>Spread the word.</p><p>See you Never.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-6675073948205343536?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-64139660241146010022009-01-04T20:05:00.000-08:002009-01-04T20:11:13.186-08:00<span style="font-size:180%;">RUDE.<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Dear 2009,<br /><br />I regret to inform you that upon your arrival I can not find a parking spot at the gym. <br /><br />Sincerely,<br /><br />Concerned Citizen<br /></span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-6413966024114601002?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-48739907980403916052008-12-18T22:04:00.000-08:002008-12-18T22:09:00.129-08:00Good days don't always start w<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">i</span>th sunsh<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">i</span>ne. Somet<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">i</span>mes they start before sleep. Somet<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">i</span>mes they start with uncerta<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">i</span>nty and a cheesy song. Is <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">i</span>t real or just another crush...? Thank you. See you never.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-4873990798040391605?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6392404791643626521.post-43119971350306307842008-12-15T17:33:00.000-08:002008-12-15T18:08:42.917-08:00<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">It was a sad day when I real<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>zed how many r<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>tes of passage that I have let pass me by.<br />Get ready to feel better about your own l<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>ves.<br /><br />1. Braces.<br />2. Spin the Bottle.<br />3. a F<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>rst Date.<br />4. a F<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>rst Breakup.<br />5. Prom.<br />6. Mov<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>ng <span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>nto a DormRoom.<br />7. Ta<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>lgate Part<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>es.<br />8. Not See<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>ng the Follow<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>ng Mov<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>es:<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /> It's a Wonderful L<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>fe</span></span>.<br />Jurass<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>c Park.<br /> Back to the Future.<br />A Chr<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>stmas Story.<br />Never End<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>ng Story.<br />Pr<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>ncess Br<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>de.<br />Ind<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>ana Jones.<br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br />Looks l<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>ke I have a lot to do <span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">i</span>n 2009. <br /><br /></span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6392404791643626521-4311997135030630784?l=itwazabadyear.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03705538889978977278noreply@blogger.com2