<?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-11927603</id><updated>2011-10-17T03:40:41.163-06:00</updated><title type='text'>webcowgirl</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>138</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-3449980315294060218</id><published>2008-03-21T14:39:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T15:02:55.275-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Momentum</title><content type='html'>There are times in life when you are lazily riding the escalator watching the rest of the world move without you, times when you take the stares either because you’ve been recently motivated or realize you’re grateful to just have functioning legs, and times when you are propelled out of a canon most certainly against your will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m often amazed by how much pain a human spirit can endure before it shatters.   So many of us are damaged, yet we refuse to break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is beautiful, out of control and effervescent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-3449980315294060218?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3449980315294060218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=3449980315294060218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/3449980315294060218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/3449980315294060218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2008/03/momentum.html' title='Momentum'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-4434579418873617423</id><published>2008-02-28T10:04:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T10:08:08.342-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lysodren (Mitotane) Just Say no to your vet</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rpPY5WZ_Jx0/R8bqTmCZh0I/AAAAAAAAABE/Guw2Zl_jf2Y/s1600-h/IMG_4828.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172078844430616386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rpPY5WZ_Jx0/R8bqTmCZh0I/AAAAAAAAABE/Guw2Zl_jf2Y/s200/IMG_4828.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Buggs was young for a Boston. Only 10. I raised her from a puppy and she moved from Texas to D.C. with me and was always a loving friend. My best friend with no strings attached. She loved everyone, and I mean everyone she came into contact with. Fastest kisser in the west! The one thing she did have a hard time with was allergies. She would get clogged up and be so miserable that she would struggle to catch her breath at times. The vets in Texas solution was always prednisone. First benedryl, then when that didn't work, prednisone, which always did. I know hinesite is 20/20, but I will never give another friend prednisone again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She was diagnosed with Cushings back in November of '07, so not that long ago. This scared me to death, and I read everything I could on the disease and didn't want to put her on any drugs. I had talked to the vet about it and he said of course it was my choice, but that Cushings was easy to manage and he had treated a couple of hundred dogs with great success. So I consented. Now looking back, I think she may have had some other cancer type things going on as well with her, because the Lysodren didn't really work for her, and her liver [ALK] on her CBC was out of whack back last Fall as well. Also I have had two external tumors removed from her the last few years, although they always came back benign. I'm no vet, but in my mind those didn't just show up for no reason.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We gave it our best shot though. Our vet was a great and compassionate vet and did all the ACHT tests regularly and we followed her daily actions closely. The lysodren did get rid of the crazy drinking and eating and panting. But in the end, it just didn't work for her. I beleive it didn't help extend her life and may have actually shortened it. The arthritis that the drug(and winter brought forth) was just too much for her to take. She stopped eating and drinking completely on Monday, and she'd only been eating steak and chicken that we cooked for her and fed her by hand the last couple of weeks. I just felt so awful for her, as the only choice we had left was to give her fluids with a needle the last couple of weeks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She wasn't herself, and this past week fell down in her back end when she tried to walk. It was just so sad. Sad to see my friend who had once run around the park with such energy so full of life. Sad not to hear her little toenails on our hardwood floor last night.I have always believed in quality of life vs. quantity and February for Buggs was definately not quality. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday, she passed away in our arms, knowing she was loved and hugged till the very end. My advice to anyone here is to follow your gut. Just like people some drugs don't work for everyone. But some do. And more than anything give them all the love and treats you can while you have them, because life is so short. Peace be with you Buggs until I can hold you in my arms again sweet girl. I hope someone up there is giving you all the cheese you can handle!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-4434579418873617423?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4434579418873617423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=4434579418873617423' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/4434579418873617423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/4434579418873617423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2008/02/lysodren-mitotane-just-say-no-to-your.html' title='Lysodren (Mitotane) Just Say no to your vet'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rpPY5WZ_Jx0/R8bqTmCZh0I/AAAAAAAAABE/Guw2Zl_jf2Y/s72-c/IMG_4828.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-5986940705164205863</id><published>2007-11-02T08:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T08:34:00.530-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging at Slashfood</title><content type='html'>I just wanted to let everyone know that I haven't given up blogging.  Infact I will still continue to update this one.  &lt;a href="http://www.slashfood.com/bloggers/wendy-buckley/"&gt;But, i have been busy doing some guest blogging over at SLASHFOOD.  So please go check that out&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also have a &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=711858778"&gt;Facebook page&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-5986940705164205863?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5986940705164205863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=5986940705164205863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/5986940705164205863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/5986940705164205863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/11/blogging-at-slashfood.html' title='Blogging at Slashfood'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-3302930799168446138</id><published>2007-06-30T15:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T11:52:34.519-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging for Ranches</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rpPY5WZ_Jx0/RpJ1XM93a6I/AAAAAAAAAA8/NFPDkKbtWi8/s1600-h/Scotts_pictures_4_19_07_092.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085255970732862370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: right" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rpPY5WZ_Jx0/RpJ1XM93a6I/AAAAAAAAAA8/NFPDkKbtWi8/s200/Scotts_pictures_4_19_07_092.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I was in Texas visiting my parents last week, and part of my duties along with mucking stalls, mowing acres upon acres of lawn, and haying horses is to help them with anything web. I'm their free online consulting firm, available 24/7. Even though my free time is limited, it's just easier for me to help them versus see them get taken to the cleaners by someone from their small town, who probably sat next to me at community college. Not that there is anything wrong with that :-) It's just that any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;high school&lt;/span&gt; graduate with an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; connection thinks they are a web designer/developer. Eyes rolling...I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a quick remedial lesson of control + C and control + V, I walked mom through setting up her first blog for the ranch. [&lt;a href="http://www.2x4quarterhorses.blogspot.com/"&gt; 2x4 Quarter Horses &lt;/a&gt;]They already have a &lt;a href="http://www.cottar.com/"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt; that gets pretty good stats, but I thought anything to help get the word out to sell more horses was a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing I showed her was the blog search site &lt;a href="http://www.technorati.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;technorati&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. We had to check out the competition for the phrase "quarter horses". Lucky for us, those blogs are few and far between. So we were already ahead of the game, but probably not for long. After explaining the initial concept (update often) and perusing some other blogs, mom was ready to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So other than the fact that I am her daughter, what valid reasons would encourage a small business owner, like my mom, to start blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Differentiate Yourself From The Competition:&lt;/strong&gt; Especially in my mom's case, there aren't a lot of ranch, or quarter horse blogs out there. If you have a niche audience, and especially if your competition really hasn't figured out how to successfully market themselves on the web; now is your big chance to get one step ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Update with little or no assistance from a web developer:&lt;/strong&gt; About once a quarter, mom sends me a list of updates. Usually this consists of new horses for sale, and photographs. By giving her access to her own blog, this allows her to easily make announcements, share news &amp;amp; photos, or just give her opinion on the crazy Texas weather this month, or the rising cost of hay. And "hey" she doesn't have to enlist the help of a costly developer. Although I'm easily paid off with trips to Sonic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Anything that will boost Search Engine Rank is a plus:&lt;/strong&gt; Relevant links from a trusted website (such as your own blog) linking back to your site can only help to boost your natural search rankings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Unleash your passion:&lt;/strong&gt; Small business owners have a natural &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;entrepreneurial&lt;/span&gt; spirit. They have a passion for their business, and for pleasing their customers. A blog will give you a medium for sharing that passion, and getting feedback from your customers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Show me the comments:&lt;/strong&gt; Blogs naturally allow for commentary on every post, unless you change the security settings. Some people are afraid of negative feedback being posted for the world to see. Well you can deal with that two ways. One is to moderate your comments and post only the good. In my opinion though, this makes your blog seem less valid. Two is to allow users to share their feelings both positive or negative, and learn from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;experience&lt;/span&gt;. You'll be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;surprised&lt;/span&gt; how quickly a defender of your product (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;DOP&lt;/span&gt;) will hop in to defend you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's just a couple of ideas why you might want to give blogging a whirl. It's free, just go to blogger.com to get started today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-3302930799168446138?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3302930799168446138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=3302930799168446138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/3302930799168446138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/3302930799168446138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/06/blogging-for-ranches.html' title='Blogging for Ranches'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rpPY5WZ_Jx0/RpJ1XM93a6I/AAAAAAAAAA8/NFPDkKbtWi8/s72-c/Scotts_pictures_4_19_07_092.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-2764228072409997482</id><published>2007-06-14T07:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T16:36:25.693-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Web 2.0: Are You Sick of It Yet?</title><content type='html'>A little background: I have been working on websites for over ten years now. It started innocently enough with a basic 1 day HTML class that I paid $200 when I was the ripe old age of 19. There were no HTML classes at my college at the time, just some lame Visual Basic courses, and I had no interest in becoming one of THOSE computer science majoring, pocket protector wearing, programming nerds. Not that there is anything wrong with that. I just wanted to create visually and contextually appealing websites. It was an interest that turned into a passion with the more classes I shelled out cash for. I became a huge advocate of all things &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Macromedia&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-evil Adobe buyout). I have watched the rise and fall and rise again of the web, and I know it’s always going to be a part of every successful marketers media plan from here on out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I am forced to play along with however is all the jargon that people love to throw around in often non-casual communication regarding web sites. The term &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Web_2.0"&gt;Web 2.0&lt;/a&gt; has been around since 2003, started mostly by those O’Reilly guys with their peculiar animal books. By the way: That cover with the donkey on it just fills me with inspiration to read more about Ajax (I’m so kidding).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marketing, Sales, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;CEOs&lt;/span&gt; are wearing this term out, and most of them, if you ask them point blank to define it, you’ll notice they’ll throw in the word blog and quickly change the subject. What it really is, if you take all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ajax&lt;/span&gt;, ruby on rails, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;xml&lt;/span&gt;, and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;backend&lt;/span&gt; nerd programming (which I must admit I find interesting) out of it is this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a world wide web (WWW) of online &amp; mobile PARTICIPATION. It’s thinking of the web as more than just a linear plane of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;searchable&lt;/span&gt; content, but as a multidimensional cube where communication opportunities are endless. It feeds one of the most basic human instincts; INTERACTION.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.eons.com/"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075924673540194370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rpPY5WZ_Jx0/RnFOmOEBAEI/AAAAAAAAAA0/JCJED3tSDcg/s200/eons-thumb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Speaking of interaction, here is a website for every advertiser’s target market, the baby boomer. &lt;a href="http://www.eons.com/"&gt;Eons&lt;/a&gt; started last fall, I remember in fact its launch in October. It was started by Jeff Taylor, you know the guy who started that little site Monster.com? It’s a social-networking [buzz word] J site for the 50-100yr. old active adult. I think it’s well thought out, and I would love to know how large the audience is since the sites inception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Jeff, if you’re out there somewhere that little font sizing tool you had on the homepage back last fall was really cool. My mom (your target demographic) has no idea how to go in her browser and change those settings, and to having the one click ability to do that directly on the website was a nice feature.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-2764228072409997482?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2764228072409997482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=2764228072409997482' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/2764228072409997482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/2764228072409997482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/06/web-20-are-you-sick-of-it-yet.html' title='Web 2.0: Are You Sick of It Yet?'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rpPY5WZ_Jx0/RnFOmOEBAEI/AAAAAAAAAA0/JCJED3tSDcg/s72-c/eons-thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-2495738805932616678</id><published>2007-04-19T12:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T13:18:33.159-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It Ain’t All About the Cookin’ by Paula Dean</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Paula-Deen-Aint-About-Cookin/dp/0743292855/ref=pd_bbs_1/103-3433506-5794261?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1177008507&amp;sr=8-1"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055219708897948386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 217px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 215px" height="207" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rpPY5WZ_Jx0/Rie_iqJqcuI/AAAAAAAAAAs/zzSp8LiSfr4/s320/paula.jpg" width="193" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Known for her love of butter (yeehaw!), cream cheese, and sour cream; Paula Dean captured my love and my Tivo about four years ago [&lt;a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/food/show_pa/0,1976,FOOD_10234,00.html"&gt;Foodnetwork 10:30 AM every weekend and 1pm every weekday&lt;/a&gt;]. My husband and I are Paula Dean groupies, but have yet to meet the wonderful lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we first started dating I took David on a weekend trip to Savannah specifically to go to her restaurant. We stood in line for an hour, which is probably a short wait when you hear others speak about their experience, but it was well worth it, and the food was good ‘ol country cookin’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never knew much about the lady other than what I had grown to love about her cooking shows (and what David and I like to call: her FOODNETWORK FACE, when she bites in to something delicious – it’s worse than porn ya’ll), but having read the book I feel as though she could be a close Texas relative of mine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her book has to be the most honest one I have read. She really put it all out there, including a social anxiety disorder and an affair with a married man that she had for years. I think it took a lot of guts not to just talk about the good things in her life, but to show that she has made many mistakes, learned many lessons, and that she is human and puts her pant’s on one leg at a time just like everyone else. She feels blessed by God and family has always been number one, even if that just meant surviving to the next meal/catering job. The entire book is filled with heart warming stories and belly filling recipes. If you love to cook or you love southerners, or even if you just love a good story about starting from nothing and building a dream this book is for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-2495738805932616678?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2495738805932616678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=2495738805932616678' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/2495738805932616678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/2495738805932616678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/04/it-aint-all-about-cookin-by-paula-dean.html' title='It Ain’t All About the Cookin’ by Paula Dean'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rpPY5WZ_Jx0/Rie_iqJqcuI/AAAAAAAAAAs/zzSp8LiSfr4/s72-c/paula.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-4819900856580111135</id><published>2007-04-18T15:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T15:28:42.118-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fashion for Paws</title><content type='html'>I’m always looking for ways to support humane treatment of animals, so when I heard about &lt;strong&gt;Fashion for Paws&lt;/strong&gt;, I just had to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was able to engage two of my girlfriends with the promise of an open bar and some trend setting summer fashion ideas (ok, that last part I wasn’t sure of).&lt;br /&gt;So Saturday, we cabbed to the French Embassy and enjoyed some excellent people watching.  It wasn’t like other events I have been to in this town, people really broke out of conservative attire and sported some pretty wild dresses and shoes.  I was impressed!&lt;br /&gt;Here is some great video of the event.&lt;a href="http://www.dccompass.com/"&gt;http://www.dccompass.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next up The &lt;strong&gt;Bark Ball&lt;/strong&gt; in June!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.washhumane.org/barkball.asp"&gt;http://www.washhumane.org/barkball.asp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-4819900856580111135?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4819900856580111135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=4819900856580111135' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/4819900856580111135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/4819900856580111135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/04/fashion-for-paws.html' title='Fashion for Paws'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-5190814022018313415</id><published>2007-04-12T14:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T14:49:06.401-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sibley E.R. Rocks</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so I have never been to an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Emergency&lt;/span&gt; Room before, so I don't have a lot to compare it to. But I had to go yesterday, for this strange and intensely painful stomach cramp I have had since late Sunday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good news is it's not anything life threatening, bad news is...they don't have a clue what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I will have to say this, the &lt;a href="http://www.sibley.org/"&gt;E.R. experience at Sibley&lt;/a&gt;, as unpleasant as I can imagine most of them are, was quite stress-free. I arrived at one , was checked in and in a bed with IV by2. Had tests, ultrasound and results by 5 and was out of there by 5:45.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily I brought a book, otherwise I'd have been just hurting and bored.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-5190814022018313415?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5190814022018313415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=5190814022018313415' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/5190814022018313415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/5190814022018313415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/04/sibley-er-rocks.html' title='Sibley E.R. Rocks'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-98047948134107046</id><published>2007-04-06T12:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T09:30:47.204-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Boomsday, Buckley, and Urbana</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Boomsday-Christopher-Buckley/dp/0446579815/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/104-2592520-5481560?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1175786982&amp;sr=8-1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050391203178591810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rpPY5WZ_Jx0/RhaYCoo3tkI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OGSlsuC0sSA/s200/boom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;CHRIS BUCKLEY - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Boomsday-Christopher-Buckley/dp/0446579815/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/104-2592520-5481560?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1175786982&amp;sr=8-1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;BOOMSDAY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris Buckley was a riot last night at Politics &amp;amp; Prose. I’m almost finished with the book, and it is LOL funny. The 2 characters he didn’t touch on, but I was hoping to hear more about the development of, were Gideon (Geeeeeeedion) and the Cardinal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the reading &amp; Q&amp;amp;A we lined up with the rest of the herd, to get our books signed, in none other than the self help\addicts\sex section. That at least made for moderate entertainment while we waited. I may have to return for the pop-up sex book. Another thing that kept our boredom at bay was arrival of the &lt;strong&gt;“creepy professor”&lt;/strong&gt; who came to breathe heavily over the bookshelf to a rather attractive and very republican (sorry Neocan?) standing directly in front of us. From the conversation which we couldn’t help but overhear, since it was happening right in front of us, that he had been a molester ( I mean mentor) of some kind to her in college. She was highly uncomfortable with the whole (hands unseen) exchange which included his narrative of how he and Chris were skiing and drinking buddies, and he’d met him in an airport bar. At which I later asked David; It isn’t exactly difficult to become a drinking buddy with a Buckley is it?! ( oh I kid hon! )&lt;br /&gt;;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*UPDATE 4/7.  This morning we (stalkers) googled the magazine/thinktank where the girl standing in line infront of us professed to work and found out that she has a profile on &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1442379/photogallery"&gt;IMDB&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[other review of the evening - from Ashton Kutcher look alike &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://scribesandscoundrels.blogspot.com/2007/04/christopher-buckley-at-politics-and.html"&gt;scribes and scoundrels&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;URBANA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Politics &amp;amp; Prose we decided to stop by Urbana for dinner. I should say, I decided, it was my fault. It was the most flavorless meal I have ever eaten. Stay away from the pork shoulder for sure. I was kicking myself for not packing the Tabasco in my purse. They also have weak wine pours and bad service. We spent $130 before tip, and I wish we’d just gone to the Silver Diner instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;EAT BAR - B.Y.O.K.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have just a slight mini rant about EAT bar in Arlington. I love the wine, sliders, tatertots and that weird but tasty steak tare tare there, but the homemade ketchup is awful and must go. I’m going to revolt and bring in a bottle of Heinz from the 7-11 across the street the next time we go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-98047948134107046?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/98047948134107046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=98047948134107046' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/98047948134107046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/98047948134107046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/04/boomsday-buckley-and-urbana.html' title='Boomsday, Buckley, and Urbana'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rpPY5WZ_Jx0/RhaYCoo3tkI/AAAAAAAAAAk/OGSlsuC0sSA/s72-c/boom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-6865933651407203397</id><published>2007-04-04T11:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T12:14:06.880-06:00</updated><title type='text'>30 is the new 20</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;Actually I think my life at 30 is far superior to what it was like at 20. At 20 I would have never thought I could have become so lucky in love and life by 30. Looking back over the last ten years there were:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A few disappointments:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Losing my father at 25&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Not living close enough to my mom to have Sunday dinner once a month&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And a lot of learning experiences:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Moving out of Texas and to the Northeast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Dating someone with a child and an ex wife&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;talk about learning to give and take for 5 years!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Learning the difference between love and settling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Becoming comfortable with living alone and the accepting the unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Having roommates and understanding what a truly wonderful thing privacy is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A minor regret:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Leaving college to pursue a web career&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And a few accomplishments:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Finding the love of my life – my beacon, David&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Building some wonderful friendships with some amazing women&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; On my 4th Fulltime Job since Highschool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(as I was walking to work yesterday I realized I have been working fulltime for 12 years! as well as some part time jobs- no wonder I’m feeling burnt out lately)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Learning how to cook well and getting the timing right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Traveling to some pretty spectacular places (mainstream &amp;amp; out of the way)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Having a good relationship with my mom &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-6865933651407203397?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6865933651407203397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=6865933651407203397' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/6865933651407203397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/6865933651407203397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/04/30-is-new-20.html' title='30 is the new 20'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-7505223467899884597</id><published>2007-02-27T15:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T15:55:49.288-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sNOw more please!</title><content type='html'>I'm so done with winter....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rpPY5WZ_Jx0/ReS2xrmX9mI/AAAAAAAAAAM/d8mKTx-5sMA/s1600-h/IMG_4577.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036351247940580962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rpPY5WZ_Jx0/ReS2xrmX9mI/AAAAAAAAAAM/d8mKTx-5sMA/s320/IMG_4577.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/11927603-7505223467899884597?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7505223467899884597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=7505223467899884597' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/7505223467899884597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/7505223467899884597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/02/snow-more-please.html' title='sNOw more please!'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rpPY5WZ_Jx0/ReS2xrmX9mI/AAAAAAAAAAM/d8mKTx-5sMA/s72-c/IMG_4577.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-117096173482219429</id><published>2007-02-08T12:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T12:08:54.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Austin City Limits Festival Dates for 2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Sept 14-16&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2923/987/1600/757142/logo_fest.gif"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2923/987/320/711137/logo_fest.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dates announced for 2007 ACL fest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006_09_01_webcowgirl_archive.html" tareget="_blank"&gt;I'm just so giddy&lt;/a&gt;.   Hopefully I will get to&lt;br /&gt;see Ben Kweller put another tampon up his nose.&lt;br /&gt;Now that was HOT!&lt;br /&gt;;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-117096173482219429?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/117096173482219429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=117096173482219429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/117096173482219429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/117096173482219429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/02/austin-city-limits-festival-dates-for.html' title='Austin City Limits Festival Dates for 2007'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-117087033952721754</id><published>2007-02-07T10:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T10:47:07.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goo Goo Dolls at the 9:30 club</title><content type='html'>It occurs to me that I might be turning into a grump, and introvert or much worse…OLD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we went to see the Goo Goo Dolls at the 9:30 club.  Besides occasional sound board problems, I’ve normally had fine concert going experiences there.  Maybe I have never been to a sold out show there before.  I usually get there early enough to secure a spot on the railing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got there at 7, doors open at 7:30 and there was a line around the block.  As we entered the line and proceeded to freeze to death in the single digit weather I asked my husband if he’d grabbed the tickets.  A look of utter disappointment flashed back at me and we left the line and drove back to Arlington for the tickets.  When we got back to the 9:30club, it was 8pm, and some of the line was still there, so I hoped it wasn’t too bad inside.  WRONG.  I spent the entire concert enjoying the scenery of fat heads, and tall wide people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there were the unlimited number of cell phones and the digital cameras, and everyone just dying to get a photo to send to their friends or upload to their blog to show how close they were to a band who had it’s hey day in ’93. &lt;em&gt;I gagged. &lt;/em&gt; The whole show was just crap.  I had read reviews of a Goo Goo doll show at 9:30 before and it specifically stated that these guys weren’t going to play the mush songs, but that they really rocked out.  Whatever.  It felt like Valentines night in there last night all the couples singing along with the City of Angels soundtrack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had I actually been able to see the band perform, I may not have been so perturbed…but seriously, worst concert experience of my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-117087033952721754?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/117087033952721754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=117087033952721754' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/117087033952721754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/117087033952721754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/02/goo-goo-dolls-at-930-club.html' title='Goo Goo Dolls at the 9:30 club'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-117045193133365277</id><published>2007-02-02T14:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T14:33:02.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pigeon Front</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2923/987/1600/839526/pigeon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2923/987/400/296966/pigeon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took this on my way to work this morning.&lt;br /&gt;They all looked so cold up there huddled together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-117045193133365277?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/117045193133365277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=117045193133365277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/117045193133365277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/117045193133365277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/02/pigeon-front.html' title='Pigeon Front'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-116983275257490056</id><published>2007-01-26T10:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T10:33:33.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chili Today Hot Tamale</title><content type='html'>As I sit here eating a bowl of chili, &lt;strong&gt;omfg good&lt;/strong&gt;- and shame on me as I don’t believe it’s on my south beach lifestyle plan, but I just couldn’t face a salad today in this weather. I'm starting to feel my inside warm up to what I dream the outside of my body would feel like today. It’s official; horrible, awful, unforgiving winter is here. I'm not whining, I'm from Texas. I was born with a delicate sensitivity to the cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hands are chapped; a scabby substance where my wedding ring normally sits has appeared. &lt;strong&gt;Gross.&lt;/strong&gt; The ring came off last night and will stay off for a couple of days in hopes of healing. I try lotion and everything, but my hands remain as dry as the desert. I’m staring down and my cuticles now which remind me of some movie I saw in the fourth grade about lumber production. You know the one where you see how pencils are made? They start with the tree, then the tree is floating in the water until it’s turn to go into the grinder to be split up into a million jagged pieces. My cuticles look like those pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well what are you gonna do? No a gosh darn thing. Oh the chili comma is starting. I’ll have to have some herbal tea in a minute. I can’t hardly wait for tonight. I will finally have some ammunition to attack the supreme fart monster I live with. &lt;strong&gt;SO watch out hon….&lt;em&gt;there is a Dutch oven in your future&lt;/em&gt; and it’s not Le Cruset!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;;-)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-116983275257490056?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116983275257490056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=116983275257490056' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116983275257490056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116983275257490056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/01/chili-today-hot-tamale.html' title='Chili Today Hot Tamale'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-116923665152504225</id><published>2007-01-19T12:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-19T12:59:16.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>South beach continues &amp; other mindless Friday fodder</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2923/987/1600/676235/EATbar-Logo-smaller.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2923/987/200/681352/EATbar-Logo-smaller.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So with phase 2 you can have wine again. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Thank god.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; When I drink wine, all my sweet cravings subside. Last night I went out with some of the girls and we had some wine at Tallulah. You’d think they’d have discount glasses in the back bar, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://tallularestaurant.com/barandlounge.htm"&gt;EAT&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EAT is their new mini lounge/cheap eats section in the back of the restaurant. I don’t see how it looks any different from the way it always has, but I guess now you can get a burger back there and some tater tots with blue cheese (odd). Anyway, with my diet I had none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We always end up back there because the front bar is usually packed, and the food in the main restaurant is nice, but for the price it’s not someplace you’d go to eat casually every week.  I didn’t even look at the price of my glass when ordering, but when the bill came it was $13 for my glass. Now I don’t mind paying for something exceptional, but this red was not. It was just ok.  Anyway, the company was great- so whatever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-116923665152504225?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116923665152504225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=116923665152504225' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116923665152504225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116923665152504225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/01/south-beach-continues-other-mindless.html' title='South beach continues &amp; other mindless Friday fodder'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-116905638757175885</id><published>2007-01-17T10:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-17T10:53:07.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Phase One Complete</title><content type='html'>The South Beach diet has got to be the easiest one I have ever done.  The cravings during phase one for sweets was tough to take, but I can say I never felt “hungry”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My one big objection to phase one was the headaches.  I got a ton of them.  Some mornings were like waking up with a hangover, only without the fun the night before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David lost 15 lbs during phase one and I lost about 8.  We are now headed cautiously into phase 2 (where you continue to lose, only a little slower than phase 1), where we introduce some soluble carbs into some breakfasts.  But the biggest thrill for me is that wine is back on my list! Woo – hoo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-116905638757175885?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116905638757175885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=116905638757175885' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116905638757175885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116905638757175885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/01/phase-one-complete.html' title='Phase One Complete'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-116838030957481570</id><published>2007-01-09T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T15:05:09.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 8 Headache</title><content type='html'>I think the headaches are more due to my starring at a computer screen all day.  I have 20/20 vision, but I have been doing this over ten years now, so maybe it's time for an eye exam. Urgghh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Today was official weigh in day.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost &lt;strong&gt;4lbs&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband lost &lt;strong&gt;9lbs&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-116838030957481570?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116838030957481570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=116838030957481570' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116838030957481570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116838030957481570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/01/day-8-headache.html' title='Day 8 Headache'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-116831132619462966</id><published>2007-01-08T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T19:55:26.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Haven’t Fallen off the Wagon Yet! Day 7</title><content type='html'>Although I did just have 2 fat free/sugar free fudgesicles that were better than sex.&lt;br /&gt;I thought my main problem with this diet would be the lack of wine.  So far though, that hasn’t been much of an issue past the first two nights.  I also have to admit that it was quite depressing not having wine with our steaks Saturday night.  It would have enhanced the flavor so much.  I also enjoy my wine come Sunday evening; it’s just a nice relaxing finish to the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No the problem lately has been my craving for all things sweet.  After one more week those cravings are supposed to dissipate, but we shall see.  I never ever craved dessert before.  I’m one of those people who crave salt and creamy bready things.  Now I would just about die if I could have a piece of key lime pie, a piece of peach cobbler with ice cream on it (slobber ), or an ice cream sundae. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow morning pre-breakfast is our weigh in.  I’m sure my husband has lost more than me; as men are supposed to loose more than women.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-116831132619462966?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116831132619462966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=116831132619462966' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116831132619462966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116831132619462966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/01/havent-fallen-off-wagon-yet-day-7.html' title='Haven’t Fallen off the Wagon Yet! Day 7'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-116785367882316148</id><published>2007-01-03T12:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T12:47:58.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Carb-A-Holic – South Beach Day 2</title><content type='html'>I never knew what a carbaholic I was until yesterday about 4pm. It was at that point in time that the headache and trembly knees set in. And yes, for those of you who follow this diet, I ate the snacks I was supposed to eat. I had a Crystal Light in hopes to combat it, but by the time I got home, about 7pm I was in full-fledge starvation mode. David wanted us to go to the gym, I briefly thought about killing him, then he offered me some V8 to get the blood sugar back up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which was packed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got off the Elliptical (not my machine of choice, I prefer the treadmill) after my 30 minutes because my feet were numb, I was bored, sweaty, and oh yeah so hungry I was considering sucking the sweat from my t-shirt for nutrients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I practically sprinted home to cook our first low-carb dinner. Scrawny Pork chops with okra and tomatoes, and salad. I did a quick marinade of the pork chops in a cabernet vinegar and garlic then sautéed those in a pan until they shrunk to an almost unrecognizable state. I then took some frozen okra and sautéed that in another pain and added in a can of those Italian stewed tomatoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When David got home we ate like cavemen with pauses between bites to grunt at each other. Isn’t marriage sexy? Best of all was our allowed desert, a fat free, sugar free tofutti fudge pop. Gag. I think I would have rather had warmed up lemon water than another one of those.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2923/987/1600/978750/CavemanDiet.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2923/987/320/299577/CavemanDiet.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-116785367882316148?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116785367882316148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=116785367882316148' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116785367882316148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116785367882316148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/01/carb-holic-south-beach-day-2.html' title='Carb-A-Holic – South Beach Day 2'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-116775984972850701</id><published>2007-01-02T10:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T10:44:09.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>South Beach Diet Day 1</title><content type='html'>Well we spent the last 2 weeks being overly bad.  So now I have 5 more pounds than I thought I had to loose on South Beach.  Let me back up a bit…We knew the diet was starting on Jan 2, so starting a day or so before Christmas we ate like we were on our way to a fat camp, and I worked out maybe once in the last two weeks, which I am usually not awesome at but go 3-4 times a week..  There was a metabolic system shutdown I believe, so when I stepped on the scale this morning (3 times to ensure accuracy) I almost fainted from the shock of the number displayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We bought our south beach books, I shopped at whole foods yesterday to ensure we were properly stocked for week one, so off we go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-116775984972850701?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116775984972850701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=116775984972850701' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116775984972850701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116775984972850701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2007/01/south-beach-diet-day-1.html' title='South Beach Diet Day 1'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-116345608758128149</id><published>2006-11-13T15:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T15:18:00.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Memorable Experience</title><content type='html'>We ran down to the Iwo Jima memorial Friday and continued to run on past to the public entrance of the Arlington Cemetery. There is no jogging allowed in the cemetery, for good reason, so we cooled off as we walked the grounds. It was a very surreal experience, and at the same time very beautiful. It really hit home for me when I saw some maintenance workers setting what looked to be 3 new headstones. I just thought of Iraq and the violence, and felt an ache inside, and then I held David’s hand a little harder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/arlington-cemetary.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photo from the Arlington Cemetery.org Website" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/arlington-cemetary.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-116345608758128149?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116345608758128149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=116345608758128149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116345608758128149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116345608758128149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/11/memorable-experience.html' title='A Memorable Experience'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-116301188211782977</id><published>2006-11-08T11:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T11:52:07.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When is enough - ENOUGH!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tips/getAttraction.php3?tip_AttractionNo==376"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IASTAcup_tony.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why can’t a business just do what they’re good at and leave it at that?&lt;/strong&gt; I completely understand that as a company you need to grow and not stifle. I am talking more about the world domination of all, rather than expansion. Everyone is in bed with everyone else, partnering, branding, and claiming to do it all. Take &lt;strong&gt;Starbucks for example&lt;/strong&gt;; couldn’t they just be happy with their massive over priced (&lt;em&gt;and yes I buy it everyday&lt;/em&gt;) coffee store empire? I understand the reason to expand to the consumer grocery store market with the ability to buy coffee at your local Safeway, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here is what I am getting at. CD Sales? Seriously! And the latest: book sales &amp;amp; some sort of social networking/book club site &lt;a href="http://www.starbucks.gather.com/"&gt;http://www.starbucks.gather.com/&lt;/a&gt; I mean really, why did they go there? Is a Starbucks sponsored talk show next? Don’t even get me started with Rachel Ray, whose cooking show I adore, but talk show I don’t quite get- and she has a magazine too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I’m just small minded about these sorts of things, but if my coffee starts tasting like ass I’ll know its because they are getting distracted and losing focus on what made them super moguls in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;Are they doing this to better the planet, or are they just greedy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-116301188211782977?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116301188211782977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=116301188211782977' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116301188211782977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116301188211782977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/11/when-is-enough-enough.html' title='When is enough - ENOUGH!?'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-116285431966089791</id><published>2006-11-06T15:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T16:05:19.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hurricane season still going Strong</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0890.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/200/IMG_0890.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;D &amp; I were in Texas for the weekend and stopped by one of my favorite greasy New Orleans style restaurants - &lt;a href="http://www.razzoos.com/menu.asp"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Razzoo's&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Yes that is a plastic alligator sticking out of my drink! D, had the &lt;strong&gt;frozen hurricane&lt;/strong&gt;, which was&lt;em&gt; mmmmm..mmm..good&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to the gym tonight for repentance, speaking of which, I never go to Chipotle anymore and today I found out why. Just for the heck of it I looked up nutritional information on the web for the &lt;a href="http://www.chipotle.com/images/nutrition.pdf"&gt;burrito bowl&lt;/a&gt;. I usually get the chicken one. I figured the cheese and sourcream couldn't be &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;that&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; horrible, but the whole bowl worked out to about 940 calories! &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Holy Guacamole&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - which thankgod I didn't get because that would have been another whopping 170 calories! How can something so good be so bad?  It's just not right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-116285431966089791?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116285431966089791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=116285431966089791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116285431966089791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116285431966089791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/11/hurricane-season-still-going-strong.html' title='Hurricane season still going Strong'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-116250118603092970</id><published>2006-11-02T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-02T13:59:46.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicken Vindaloo I Love You</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/tandoori.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/200/tandoori.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;Unfortunately my colon does not.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lusting longingly, and not finding the time the last couple of weeks, hub &amp; I finally made our way to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.tandoorinights.com"&gt;Tandoori Nights&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. I love spicy food, and all my friends will attest to that, and the bottle of Tabasco that compliments just about every meal I have. Last nights experience was nothing short of delightful and my taste buds, along with my stomach left feeling quite satiated. D, had the &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chicken Vindaloo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, which was the best out of our selections. We also ordered a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Chicken Makhani&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, which was still nice, but not spicy enough for me. Because we are such health nuts, we opted for a vegetable as well, the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;Okra Do Piaza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; – &lt;em&gt;delish&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wino in me loved that they used quality white &amp;amp; red style wine glasses, instead of the generic glass that a lot of restaurants seem to use these days. The pours were ample and appreciated as the Pinot Grigio was just the ticket for chasing away too much spice. Is &lt;em&gt;there such a thing?!&lt;/em&gt; The service seems to be group style, so some were gracious and others slow. We had to ask three separate people, some who were not understanding of our English, before getting another round of vino. That’s my only complaint, everything else was very enjoyable. The décor is likened to that of a Cheesecake Factory taken over by Arabian nights.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-116250118603092970?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116250118603092970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=116250118603092970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116250118603092970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116250118603092970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/11/chicken-vindaloo-i-love-you.html' title='Chicken Vindaloo I Love You'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-116231177890250140</id><published>2006-10-31T08:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-31T09:28:45.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>House Ur Ween</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0888.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/200/IMG_0888.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well we moved in approximately 10 days ago. Can I just say it’s been bliss, no really..&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;no really&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all honestly, it’s a hell of a lot of work, but I’m not bitching, at least not much. Most people who make a decent living can’t afford housing in Arlington (or the D.C. metro are in general – &lt;em&gt;which I think sucks),&lt;/em&gt; so I consider us very lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, there is a mountain of boxes left to unpack; and it’s not so much the unpacking as the selection of where will this live in our house for the rest of eternity. I really shouldn’t think of it like that. After all a table can be moved, a dish stored elsewhere, but decision making on this grand of a scale consumes me, so things are left to sit in boxes. I made a good dent in the process over the weekend, while the husband was out of town, but they (the boxes) stare at me with disdain every day. Shelving might help? I don’t know, it tires me out just thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there is the painting, decorating, selecting of furniture that matches. I have no idea where to begin. I got a subscription to &lt;strong&gt;Domino&lt;/strong&gt; (the new decorating magazine), and I really like the Ralph Lauren paint..so I don’t know. D suggested we hire a decorator, but that seems odd and almost offensive to me. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aren’t wives supposed to know how to do this stuff?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Well this one will, if it kills me. Also, I don’t want some stranger deciding how my house will look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I didn’t become the extravert I thought I would in the new park with the dogs. Move somewhere new start a new persona, well no. I’m still shy, considerate, non-confrontational, lovable me. I walk with the girls (Lola &amp;amp; Buggs), mind my own business, and stare longingly at the people hanging in the park during what one resident said was happy our every day at 5:30. A few people have walked up to us with their dogs to say hello. I say hello back, Buggs tries to jump on them, so I embarrassingly look at the ground and slowly walk away dragging the overly excited snorting dogs behind me like a cruel dog mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Halloween is my utmost favorite holiday.&lt;/strong&gt; Every year I have gone mad with the decorations etc., but this year I have not had much energy for it. I still love it, and I can’t wait to see all the trick-or-treaters tonight, but I am wearing a long sleeved old navy t-short that says Boo on it, for my costume (creative), and the dogs costumes are in storage so they will be dressed up in their every day costumes as snorter and farter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-116231177890250140?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116231177890250140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=116231177890250140' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116231177890250140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116231177890250140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/10/house-ur-ween.html' title='House Ur Ween'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-116222304643909070</id><published>2006-10-30T08:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T08:44:06.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Crazy Preacher Guy</title><content type='html'>The crazy preacher guy with his mini megaphone must be a Baptist.  I say this only from experience, and time served in a pew being scared into becoming a believer or otherwise burning in the damnation and fires of hell.  Today’s misguided quote from crazy preacher man, “&lt;em&gt;How long will it take to repent for all your sins?  It will take months my friend; years.&lt;/em&gt;” Well I guess I better get started, as I’ve done more than my share of sinning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this and the &lt;strong&gt;giant blow up Rat on K street&lt;/strong&gt; with the protesters in front.  I want to walk down one day and see what that’s all about.  &lt;strong&gt;Just another Monday at Farragut square.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;;-)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-116222304643909070?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116222304643909070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=116222304643909070' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116222304643909070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116222304643909070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/10/crazy-preacher-guy.html' title='The Crazy Preacher Guy'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-116179601957735441</id><published>2006-10-25T11:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T11:06:59.600-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Higher the Hair The Closer to God</title><content type='html'>Sorry to steal from &lt;em&gt;Greater Tuna&lt;/em&gt;, but I just loved the costumes and wigs in &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0422720/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marie Antoinette&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.  The two girlfriends that attended with me were in unified agreement on this. Sofia Coppola is a master behind the lens, and although the movie felt long towards the end, I never tired of the visual feast which consisted of some of the richest fabrics I’ve seen to date.  The inner girl in me screamed out “I want to wear all the dresses, the shoes, the diamonds!”  while drinking champagne from those adorable glasses!&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, I found the portrayal, of Louis, by the kid from &lt;em&gt;Rushmore&lt;/em&gt;, a little underwhelming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/high-hair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/high-hair.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-116179601957735441?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116179601957735441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=116179601957735441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116179601957735441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116179601957735441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/10/higher-hair-closer-to-god.html' title='The Higher the Hair The Closer to God'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-116128060373484798</id><published>2006-10-19T11:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T11:56:43.750-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is Romantic but You Have to Make the Romance</title><content type='html'>I’m coming up on three months of marital bliss now.  I’ve often heard that if you find the right partner that you don’t have to work at it.  I agree with that to a point, but I also think you don’t just flop on the couch for the rest of your marriage either.  It takes an effort put forth by both people to ensure that the other is made to feel wanted and at times very special and revered, and most importantly attractive.  It’s very easy to fall in a habit of taking the other person for granted.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a couple who I used to know very well.  They have been married thirty years, and I heard through an acquaintance that they were separated.  It left me with a feeling of sadness for both, as I would think if you can make if for thirty years surely you’ve made it.  It’s easy for me to be a newlywed and judge, but I wonder what my marriage will look like in thirty years.  Would I give up on something just because it became tiresome?  I can easily say now I would not.  I can say that I eat, sleep, and breathe my husband and cherish him with all my being.  I wonder how people do it.  I wonder how a successful marriage is achieved.  These are not classes they teach you in school, but maybe they should be.  The subjects could include: learning to compromise, making the romance, not losing yourself…and I am sure many more.  But why don’t they include healthy relationships into some sort of curriculum taught by couples who have been married by 40 or 50 years?  Lord knows we could all use the advice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-116128060373484798?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116128060373484798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=116128060373484798' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116128060373484798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/116128060373484798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/10/life-is-romantic-but-you-have-to-make.html' title='Life is Romantic but You Have to Make the Romance'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-115869380507269503</id><published>2006-09-19T13:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-09-19T13:37:49.336-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Austin City Limits Festival</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/20031738@N00/?saved=1"&gt;Flickr stream&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0803.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/200/IMG_0803.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My liver needs a rest. David’s brother knew the sound guy Brian from Ben Kweller’s band, so we got these amazing artist wristbands which would allow us to hang back stage whenever we liked as well as hang out in the artists’ village with them and drink for free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Musicians are an interesting lot, and I felt as though I were part of some strange safari being close enough to interact but yet a little fearful of the wild animals in their natural habitat. For one, I have never seen people so skinny in all my life. This is not workout skinny, it’s “pass me some of those good drugs” skinny, and I am not talking about pot.&lt;br /&gt;Aimee Mann, whom I adore, looked like Skelator. Nicole Richie has nothing on these musicians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David &amp;amp; I have been very spoiled now, seeing the festival this way, and may never be able to be part of the common public again (grin). But unless Ben is playing at the festival each year, we will have to find some other artist to befriend and ride those coat tails into the behind the scenes areas. I never thought I’d say this, but we have become groupies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did a lot of research on the bands I hadn’t seen from their websites. I thought I had prepared reasonably, but ended up disappointed that many sounded much different(worse) live than from the recordings on their sites. Some of the bands I did like were Gomez, who &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000190/"&gt;Matthew McConaughey&lt;/a&gt; seemed to like as well. He was next to us, and acting like a total dork with his airfisting and hippy dancing and whatnot. He was also with a Penelope Cruze wannabe the whole concert, who wore white jeans. Although I think he is a big dork, I feel as though he should be somewhat commended as he had no entourage with him, and when a security guy asked him if he would like someone to walk around with him, he seemed to shrug it off as though his “artist wristband” was good enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/gomez"&gt;Gomez was great&lt;/a&gt;. Aimee Mann was superb as usual. I also really enjoyed the Raconteurs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-115869380507269503?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115869380507269503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=115869380507269503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115869380507269503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115869380507269503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/austin-city-limits-festival.html' title='Austin City Limits Festival'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-115644391492359640</id><published>2006-08-24T12:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-24T12:25:14.946-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What Flavor is That?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/beef4.png"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/200/beef4.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; As I am typing this I just remembered that I have a low fat entree in the freezer here at the office (grrrr). I went to the Texas Grill to poke around and see what they had. Its right across the street and I was in a hurry and got a small to go carton of a couple of items off their Chinese/everything buffet. Even thought I was in a hurry, I made my selection based on the colors of the sauce. Orange = &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Orange&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, brown = &lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;?&lt;/span&gt; but with &lt;em&gt;broccoli&lt;/em&gt; it's probably ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I get back to the office. Have a bite of this and a bite of that, and it all tasted the same, and it all tasted bleh. In the trash!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-115644391492359640?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115644391492359640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=115644391492359640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115644391492359640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115644391492359640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/08/what-flavor-is-that.html' title='What Flavor is That?'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-115635429411954881</id><published>2006-08-23T11:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-23T11:33:03.646-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Shots - Non Pro</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/wendys_wedding__2[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/wendys_wedding__2%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/wedding_115[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/wedding_115%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/wedding_293[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/wedding_293%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/wedding_252[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/wedding_252%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-115635429411954881?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115635429411954881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=115635429411954881' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115635429411954881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115635429411954881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/08/wedding-shots-non-pro.html' title='Wedding Shots - Non Pro'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-115635232123182155</id><published>2006-08-23T10:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-23T11:12:17.030-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Just Had The Blahs All Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/pug.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 187px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 163px" height="213" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/pug.jpg" width="187" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I have had, at times this week, such minimal motivation. Be it work, or laundry , or anything. I'm just so bummed this week, and I have no idea what's causing it or why. It's like all the gas has been let out of my tires or something. I feel mentally tired, but that makes no sense, because I just got back from a two week vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be very excited, because D &amp;amp; I are attempting to buy a house today. But it just seems as though nothing is uplifting to me. It's not that I feel sad either, it's more like just an out of body experience this week. Maybe its due to the fact that summer is ending and things are winding down. Not sure. Just not myself this week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-115635232123182155?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115635232123182155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=115635232123182155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115635232123182155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115635232123182155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/08/ive-just-had-blahs-all-week.html' title='I&apos;ve Just Had The Blahs All Week'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-115567651031512838</id><published>2006-08-15T15:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-23T11:18:29.613-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Italy</title><content type='html'>Just a few photos from the honeymoon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking down on a cemetary form Cortona&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0788.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0788.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Siena&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0777.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0777.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;David @ our first hotel in Capri - The Ceasar Augustus&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0681.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0681.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Me at the marina in Capri&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0759.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0759.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Two of my favorite things! Tabasco &amp; Champagne&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0730.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0730.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-115567651031512838?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115567651031512838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=115567651031512838' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115567651031512838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115567651031512838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/08/italy.html' title='Italy'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-115385041182572406</id><published>2006-07-25T11:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T12:00:11.893-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Brain is Mush</title><content type='html'>If David and I hadn't gone running this morning, I wouldn't be functioning at all right now. 3 Days and a few hours 'till the wedding.  I'm working this week, which while I'm not very productive, it's good to have something to get my mind off it all.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom is at home trying not to burn down the house as she is making 7 lbs of toffee today for the favor boxes.  Sweet thing.  She's done so much, and is trying so hard to make this a great day for me. I feel so guilty as to how expensive this whole thing has turned out to be.  I feel like we were trying to save money too.  So, I can't even begin to imagine what some of those girls, who can have everything they want end up spending.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-115385041182572406?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115385041182572406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=115385041182572406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115385041182572406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115385041182572406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-brain-is-mush.html' title='My Brain is Mush'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-115351239984169269</id><published>2006-07-21T14:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-21T14:07:42.863-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Last Friday of Work!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/pedicure.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/pedicure.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This time next week I will have just finished a relaxing pedicure, and on my way to a wash and blow-dry from my favorite Italian - Vladdy at Tara (such a great salon). I will be getting a little anxious for the rehearsal at the church and then the rehearsal cocktails and dinner at City Tavern, where I am sure David will say something horrible sappy and make me cry like a Texas storm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it's 4pm. This day has just flown.&lt;br /&gt;I have a weekend full of things to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;font face="verdana,arial,sans-serif" size="1" color="black"&gt;Countdown!!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://daisyPath.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://daisyPath.com/days/060729/4/2/+10/1.png" alt="Daisypath Ticker" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-115351239984169269?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115351239984169269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=115351239984169269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115351239984169269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115351239984169269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-last-friday-of-work.html' title='My Last Friday of Work!!!!'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-115341645948497756</id><published>2006-07-20T11:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-20T11:27:39.666-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A State of Calm Euphoria</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/wreath_church_gate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="214" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/wreath_church_gate.jpg" width="140" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; As the wedding nears, 9 more days, I find myself being less the stressed out bride, and more the "mellow-yellow" bride. This of course drives my mom nuts because she likes it when everyone else is worked up like she is. She is quite the control freak when it comes to this event. But I keep telling myself she just wants it to go smoothly, and has the best of intentions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like an eerie state of calmness has enveloped me.&lt;br /&gt;Work is very hard to concentrate on. I feel like my brain has completely left my body, and my ability to care about the next big sales/marketing pitch is like meaningless bullshit. Maybe it always has been, but now I just seem to notice that I just don't care. Is that wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, and part of this is due to my trip to South Beach last weekend, but I suddenly have an acceptance of my body in a way I have never had before. As I observed the super toned and not so toned bodies , I thought to myself, they are all beautiful. Women are beautiful creatures. Curves are very sexy. I started thinking of working out and of food in a bit of a new light. Instead of working out to lose weight, why not workout to feel good. I love that feeling of leaving the gym and being tired and numb in spots. I love now that whenever I run, it's outside through a nice neighborhood and not on a treadmill infront of a TV, just counting the miles and praying for it to end. Instead of killing myself on diets that don't work, I'm just going to eat when I'm hungry (duh) and eat till I'm full (duh X2) , and eat what I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I guess I better go at least attempt to do some work...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-115341645948497756?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115341645948497756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=115341645948497756' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115341645948497756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115341645948497756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/07/state-of-calm-euphoria.html' title='A State of Calm Euphoria'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-115322909541320566</id><published>2006-07-18T07:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T07:24:55.440-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Melting</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;This is what I felt like when running outside at 6am this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/egg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-115322909541320566?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115322909541320566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=115322909541320566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115322909541320566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115322909541320566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/07/im-melting.html' title='I&apos;m Melting'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-115315660883176259</id><published>2006-07-17T11:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-20T13:42:27.490-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Still recovering</title><content type='html'>David had his big weekend last weekend in D.C., but the (10 gorgeous) girls and I went to South Beach for mine this past weekend. I made it back to D.C., but the veil didn't. It's lying somewhere on Ocean Drive, where I sincerely hope no one decided to try it on as it was covered in....!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a blast!&lt;br /&gt;I'm still trying to decide on the "most memorable" photo.  Until I do that, you can check out the ones on &lt;a href="http://static.flickr.com/54/191378490_42fc4cdf10_o.jpg"&gt;cookie's blog &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-115315660883176259?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115315660883176259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=115315660883176259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115315660883176259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115315660883176259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/07/still-recovering.html' title='Still recovering'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-115229043502755369</id><published>2006-07-07T10:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-07T10:40:35.066-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bachelor Weekend</title><content type='html'>David's Best Man flew into town last night for his weekend of bachelor festivities.  We hit Teds for some Bison and too much wine, and today I'm paying the price.  I'm going to the gym after work and detoxing the rest of the night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Here are the guys list of activities:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fri&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Golf, Baseball, Bars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Golf, Steaks, Bars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sun&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brunch, Death&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-115229043502755369?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115229043502755369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=115229043502755369' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115229043502755369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115229043502755369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/07/bachelor-weekend.html' title='Bachelor Weekend'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-115219541462527964</id><published>2006-07-06T08:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T08:16:54.690-06:00</updated><title type='text'>RSVP Slackers!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/black_bridesmaid_dresses_67.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/black_bridesmaid_dresses_67.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reality is, I don’t like waiting.  I don’t have the patience for it.  Don’t be a chicken, if you can’t come just check the box and make a sad smiley face.  I’ll understand.  I really will.  If you are coming, I’d like to have a nice seat for you, so you don’t have to sit on the grass at River Farm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bridezillette Signing Off&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-115219541462527964?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115219541462527964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=115219541462527964' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115219541462527964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115219541462527964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/07/rsvp-slackers.html' title='RSVP Slackers!'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-115169255424462538</id><published>2006-06-30T12:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-06-30T12:35:54.263-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Count Down</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;29 Days!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0505.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0505.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0405.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0405.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0646.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0646.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-115169255424462538?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115169255424462538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=115169255424462538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115169255424462538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115169255424462538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/06/count-down.html' title='Count Down'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-115020278018815413</id><published>2006-06-13T06:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T06:46:20.206-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Harassed by the Homeless on Farragut Square</title><content type='html'>If I have change, I ususally give it to those in need.  I have a soft heart &amp; am probably a huge sucker, but oh well.  Lately, however, I've not been carrying cash around with me.  The only thing I usualy use cash for is my morning coffee, but I filled up a Starbucks card with $20 last week, so I am good to go.  I use my debit card for everythign else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I walked past a guy holding an "I'm Hungry" sign.  I didn't make eye contact as he asked ma'm some change please.  I just kept on walking(laden with guilt), and that is not easy for me to do.   But I had no cash.  So then he says "So you can afford a fancy laptop, but you don't have enough money to give me even a little $%&amp;2*!"    I was steamed.  First of all this is my company's laptop - you ass, secondly I always give whatever I have when I have it.   Of course all of this I thought to myself but didn't say as I walked into Starbucks and used my card to get a tall regular coffee.&lt;br /&gt;;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-115020278018815413?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115020278018815413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=115020278018815413' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115020278018815413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115020278018815413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/06/harassed-by-homeless-on-farragut.html' title='Harassed by the Homeless on Farragut Square'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-115014057919922580</id><published>2006-06-12T13:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-06-12T13:29:39.253-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Showered with love</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/DC%20shower%20106.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/DC%20shower%20106.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; This weekend, my maid of honor hosted a bridal shower for me. A small group of local D.C. friends came, and it was just the right amount. What a great party.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-115014057919922580?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115014057919922580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=115014057919922580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115014057919922580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/115014057919922580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/06/showered-with-love.html' title='Showered with love'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114987521903177036</id><published>2006-06-09T11:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-06-09T11:46:59.053-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Booze Tonight</title><content type='html'>I'm so excited that this is the weekend and that I get to drink.&lt;br /&gt;I've not had one drop of wine all week.&lt;br /&gt;I got on the scale and between the no whine, and calories reduction, and workign out, I lost 2lbs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May not sound like much to some, but when I squeezed into my jeans today, I could still breathe.&lt;br /&gt;And thats damn exciting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait for the honeymoon.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to eat enough pasta that i will just explode.&lt;br /&gt;:-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114987521903177036?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114987521903177036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114987521903177036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114987521903177036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114987521903177036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/06/booze-tonight.html' title='Booze Tonight'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114962786172217318</id><published>2006-06-06T14:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-06-06T15:04:21.746-06:00</updated><title type='text'>No Wine Diet</title><content type='html'>So I am determined to lose 10 lbs before the big day. Nothing has been working.&lt;br /&gt;I've been hitting the gym&lt;br /&gt;I've been eating right, mostly low carb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Now I'm taking out wine during the week (ughhh the horror)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;As well as eating only small meals throughout the day. My plan is to shrink my stomach some so that I do a better job at portion control; which is my big weakness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was my first no wine night.&lt;br /&gt;David was enjoying his Miller Lites and I was just so jealous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and why is it when you try to be good, people bring in goodies. I had a client today bring in a whole loaf of banana bread. I had to eat a bite infront of her and say thank you. But I'll have to throw this away or put it in the kitchen at work. I can't eat this! Hello.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I had my first real dress fitting last night. The dress fit perfectly. But as Mary -Kate sounding as this is, I'd like to look a little emore svelte. Not gaunt, but svelte in it. Is that so wrong? .....ok I'm done ranting&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114962786172217318?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114962786172217318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114962786172217318' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114962786172217318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114962786172217318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/06/no-wine-diet.html' title='No Wine Diet'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114927759882572106</id><published>2006-06-02T13:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-06-02T13:46:38.850-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is like a box of chocolates – damn pricey ones!</title><content type='html'>So I walked into Godiva on my lunch break.  I didn’t buy anything though because I’m on the bride diet till July 29th.  Anyway, I thought since we haven’t bought favors for the wedding yet, I’d see what Good ol Godiva had to offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear god.  I mean I always knew they were pricey, but $7 for a plain four piece box of candy with plain white ribbon.  We are talking tiny folks.  Take that and multiply it by 150 and that $1050 dollars!  For favors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holy Crap –o-li&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114927759882572106?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114927759882572106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114927759882572106' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114927759882572106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114927759882572106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/06/life-is-like-box-of-chocolates-damn.html' title='Life is like a box of chocolates – damn pricey ones!'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114917208984224756</id><published>2006-06-01T08:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-06-01T08:28:09.866-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Month - A Fresh Start</title><content type='html'>Well May brought with it a horrid and busy time in my life.  But today I'm going to leave it all behind me and start anew.  Last night David and I kicked it off our new month of positive energy by looking at a house, which looks promising.   Not fabulous, but definitely promising, and it’s about 150k less than the one we signed the contact on , which we are now trying to get out of (insert negativity about awful builder here).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then drove down to Tallulah for a wonderful dinner and a bottle of so so wine and talked openly about a few things we hadn’t had a chance to discuss since the accident/moving in together.  We had a nice walk around Lyon Park, and then headed home to watch Batman and start stuffing our wedding invitations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m looking forward to the gym after work and the Office marathon tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lola has surgery on her poor little mouth tomorrow.  She has developed some lump by her left front fang that the vet needs to remove.  He says it is a simple procedure, but it’s hard not to be alarmed when it’s your furbaby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114917208984224756?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114917208984224756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114917208984224756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114917208984224756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114917208984224756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/06/new-month-fresh-start.html' title='A New Month - A Fresh Start'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114805851939427089</id><published>2006-05-19T10:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T11:10:31.350-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Can we really have it all?</title><content type='html'>Can we really have it all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Successful Job that you love with a good commute&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fantastic Family Upbringing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A love filled marriage/partnership &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Financial Security&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Intelligence, especially the emotional kind&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Your Health&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Last night via a variety of sources, I began to contemplate this. We are all told, from the time we are old enough to comprehend, that the world is your oyster. Especially the generation following ours, "You can have it all". This message, however is one of the most dangerous out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I have a pretty good grasp on life and a maturity that some of my friends have yet to reach, and even I am bogged down by this slogan from time to time. I wonder why I can't have a dream job(or make my current job into said dream job), I worry that it takes me too long to achieve financial independence and pay off my bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to my friend S last night and she was telling me about the recent loss of her brother. How he found out he had cancer in Jan and was gone by Easter. On top of that she lost her parents in a car accident in 93. 'S has an extreme amount of compassion for others and is a great friend to have. I lost my own father in 2002, and that experience combined with life over the past four years and the recent trauma in Davids family has (as I'm sure it does most) really caused me to think "what is it all about?" &amp;amp; "what's most important?". I told S that David is definitely the best thing I have going for me right now, in that list of "can you have it alls".&lt;br /&gt;But that's ok, infact that is better than ok. Of all the things on the list, I think that's definitely one of the most important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my advice to myself right now, that I hope I keep reminding myself of for years to come. It's ok "not" to have it all. Or maybe that its ok to have it all in one spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just something to think about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114805851939427089?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114805851939427089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114805851939427089' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114805851939427089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114805851939427089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/05/can-we-really-have-it-all.html' title='Can we really have it all?'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114365993275106015</id><published>2006-03-29T12:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T12:18:52.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I ordered the wedding invitations today!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/invites.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/invites.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more thing off the to do list. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;YES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114365993275106015?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114365993275106015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114365993275106015' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114365993275106015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114365993275106015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-ordered-wedding-invitations-today.html' title='I ordered the wedding invitations today!'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114349636504916322</id><published>2006-03-27T14:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-27T14:52:45.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dance Fever</title><content type='html'>D and I had our first pre-wedding dance class this past Saturday at The Dance Factory across from Virginia Square.  We started learning steps for the Tango &amp; Waltz.  To my surprise and disgust we had to switch partners quite often.  Lucky I popped some minty fresh gum right before class,   but compliments of two of my dance partners I was on the receiving end of some &lt;strong&gt;stink bouquet breath&lt;/strong&gt;.  There was &lt;strong&gt;liquor breath guy&lt;/strong&gt;.  In all honesty, I was just jealous that I had no mimosas before class.  Then there was, &lt;strong&gt;just ate a can of catfood guy(COCF).&lt;/strong&gt;   COCF guy also liked to dance &lt;em&gt;close&lt;/em&gt;, and told me as my dancing progressed in class, that we would have the opportunity to do the Tango “with nothing but a sheet of paper between our bodies”.  Eeeew.  So an hour later, we left with a few new moves and actually had a good time.  I haven’t danced to a count since high school drill team. &lt;br /&gt;;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114349636504916322?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114349636504916322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114349636504916322' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114349636504916322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114349636504916322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/03/dance-fever.html' title='Dance Fever'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114321775770394534</id><published>2006-03-24T09:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T09:29:17.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Just Pretend It's Summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/whitesangrialarge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/200/whitesangrialarge.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick and tired of wearing a coat. So this weekend, I'm goign to turn up the heat in my house and make some &lt;strong&gt;WHITE SANGRIA&lt;/strong&gt;. and watch something lame ( that I love ) like Mystic Pizza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 (750 ml) bottles inexpensive white wine (nothing too sweet) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 bananas, peeled, sliced in 2-inch slices &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 orange, rind reserved, cut in segments &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;6 peaches, peeled, sliced in 6 wedges each &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 red apple, center removed, chopped medium &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;dice 6 plums, sliced in 6 wedges each &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 lemons, reserve rind, juiced &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;1 cup red grapes &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 cups ice Sugar &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;8 ounces seltzer or lemon-lime soda, optional &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Place all fruit in a glass pitcher. Add 2 cups ice, lemon juice, orange and lemon rind, all the white wine and allow to sit in the refrigerator until just before serving.&lt;br /&gt;At the last minute, add sugar, to taste and soda, if desired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114321775770394534?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114321775770394534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114321775770394534' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114321775770394534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114321775770394534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/03/lets-just-pretend-its-summer.html' title='Let&apos;s Just Pretend It&apos;s Summer'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114314452769977333</id><published>2006-03-23T13:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-23T13:08:47.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>29 Going on 40</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/read%20the%20sign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/read%20the%20sign.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yesterday I celebrated my &lt;strong&gt;29th birthday&lt;/strong&gt; with friends at Rio Grande.&lt;br /&gt;The margaritas were awesome, but&lt;br /&gt;there was no pole dancing afterwards...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a blast from the past:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114314452769977333?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114314452769977333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114314452769977333' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114314452769977333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114314452769977333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/03/29-going-on-40.html' title='29 Going on 40'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114296294607877006</id><published>2006-03-21T10:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-21T10:42:26.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love My Mom - Why do I want to kill her?</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;ok - not literally.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she is making my life much more stressful with the wedding than I think it needs to be.  Why must she make comments like: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;"5 ft round tables, well we will be cozy wont we?!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;{ME THINKING BUT NOT SAYING}&lt;br /&gt;Mom I can't help that.  The caterer says that is standard.  Whats the problem?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I go to the trouble to go to AC Moore last weekend and by a square vase(because she told me to), that the centerpeice flowers will go in and I mail it to her, she moans: "&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why did you pick the 5X5 vases, we will need an extra dozen roses to fill them.  You should have picked the 4X4."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{ME  SAYING} &lt;strong&gt;I'm sure it will not take that many, why dont you go to the grocery store and buy a dozen and see if that fills it up.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Mom} &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What do you think I'm made of money?  That I can just go buy flowers anytime I want.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Me} &lt;strong&gt;A dozen roses at the grocery store is only like $9 or $10.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Mom} &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Think of all the groceries I could buy with that.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Me thinking} &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Not much&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Mom change of subject} &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;So did you find a veil you liked at the bridal store.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Me} &lt;strong&gt;Yes, a short one for $88 and a long one for $189.  But the short one is fine, and it's cheaper.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Mom} &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Why would you want something plain for $88, why dont you just get the one for $189, I'll send you a check tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Me thinking} &lt;strong&gt;Ughhhhhhhh!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114296294607877006?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114296294607877006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114296294607877006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114296294607877006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114296294607877006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-love-my-mom-why-do-i-want-to-kill.html' title='I Love My Mom - Why do I want to kill her?'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114229720415846027</id><published>2006-03-13T17:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-14T08:03:57.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Better Than the Sopranos!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/biglove_logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/biglove_logo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you passed out early from too much vino &amp;amp; sausage, and you missed the premier of &lt;strong&gt;Big Love&lt;/strong&gt;, then you definately need to Tivo this so you dont make the same mistake twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hbo.com/biglove/?ntrack_para1=feat_sec1_image"&gt;http://www.hbo.com/biglove/?ntrack_para1=feat_sec1_image&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having read &lt;em&gt;most of&lt;/em&gt; Jon Krakauer's &lt;strong&gt;Under the Banner of Heaven&lt;/strong&gt;, I must say I was well primed for this show exploring modern day polygamy. It's a somewhat comidic take on the perils of a man and his 3 wives and seven children. Think VIAGRA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114229720415846027?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114229720415846027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114229720415846027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114229720415846027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114229720415846027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/03/better-than-sopranos.html' title='Better Than the Sopranos!'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114229518406063449</id><published>2006-03-13T17:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T17:13:04.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Shamrock House Party I wasn't Invited to</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0638.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0638.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;;-) Saw this after leaving Rio Grande Saturday. Their backyard was pumpin' I honestly almost shed a tear. A most functional use of this years best blow up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114229518406063449?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114229518406063449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114229518406063449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114229518406063449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114229518406063449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/03/shamrock-house-party-i-wasnt-invited.html' title='The Shamrock House Party I wasn&apos;t Invited to'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114229376728554521</id><published>2006-03-13T16:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T16:49:27.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our New House - It's Almost Complete</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0640.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0640.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114229376728554521?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114229376728554521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114229376728554521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114229376728554521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114229376728554521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/03/our-new-house-its-almost-complete.html' title='Our New House - It&apos;s Almost Complete'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114082600194127752</id><published>2006-02-24T16:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T17:08:38.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahh Weekend</title><content type='html'>It's Friday at 7pm, and I am still stuck at the office. It's been a &lt;em&gt;loooong &lt;/em&gt;4 day work week. Thank god for President's day or else I may have had a complete mental breakdown. I'm getting ready to shut down and &lt;em&gt;walk two cold blocks&lt;/em&gt; to the metro [Isn't &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;March&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; next week..&lt;strong&gt;spring&lt;/strong&gt; is coming shortly right?] &lt;em&gt;hop on the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;orange&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; line&lt;/em&gt; a few stops and get off then &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;drive&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; another ten minutes home. Not a bad commute compared to most who work in D.C., but still after 7pm on a Friday it's kind of depressing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David is out now getting beers with his bosses, because traffic is awful. I used to make that commute last summer, and Friday's can be a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow consists of the gym and hopefully not much else.&lt;br /&gt;I should go to a girlfriends birthday "&lt;em&gt;concert thing&lt;/em&gt;". I dont think I will make it to the 9:30 club though. Some band from Pennsylvania playing that most of my friends seem to like. Eh.. maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sunday&lt;/strong&gt; we have to register at William &amp;amp; Sonoma and check out a DJ prospect later that night.&lt;br /&gt;I know - taxes! I can do that, what fun. Not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, signing off, - brain dead , mentally fried etc. etc.&lt;br /&gt;Time for some wine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114082600194127752?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114082600194127752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114082600194127752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114082600194127752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114082600194127752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/02/ahh-weekend.html' title='Ahh Weekend'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114066005245385217</id><published>2006-02-22T18:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T19:00:52.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Pissing Everyone Off Today</title><content type='html'>I think it must be stress related, but I got into it with my mom today..I've been on edge at work all day.  I even got grumpy with David- and that never happens.  Lola even pooped on the floor tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just going to crawl in bed and hope everyone forgives me tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;:-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114066005245385217?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114066005245385217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114066005245385217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114066005245385217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114066005245385217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/02/im-pissing-everyone-off-today.html' title='I&apos;m Pissing Everyone Off Today'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114065905144196181</id><published>2006-02-22T18:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T18:44:11.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We have a house</title><content type='html'>It's still more dirt than anythign, but I'm so happy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114065905144196181?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114065905144196181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114065905144196181' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114065905144196181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114065905144196181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/02/we-have-house.html' title='We have a house'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-114003373630542144</id><published>2006-02-15T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-15T13:03:36.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Post Valentine’s Bloat</title><content type='html'>I’m paying for the damage done over the weekend. I stepped on the scale this morning and noticed an extra 2.5 lbs being displayed. Eeeeek. 2.5 lbs wouldn’t normally bother me, but I already had 10 lbs to lose before the wedding(july 29), and now I get to lose 12.5, so hell I might as well round that up to 15.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On another note: From today’s DC The Knot Forum, many local brides to be were sharing their First Dance songs they have picked out for the big day.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;:-)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Your Side by Sade&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;Oh, that's a great song! We are having Someone Like You - Van Morrison...&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;Ours is "It Had to Be You" by Harry Connick, Jr. which is appropriate since we're getting married in New Orleans.&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;Love of My Life by Jim Brickman&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;Deciding between a Strauss waltz and Johnny Cash's "Would you lay with me in a field of stone".&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;Daniel Beddingfield- If you're not the one..&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;Come What May (Ewan McGregor &amp;amp; Nicole Kidman)&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;We are going to use All I Want is You by U2&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;Either Sade By Your Side or Roberta Flack- The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;We just changed ours - "Home" by Depeche Mode&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;"Love of my Life" by Dave Matthews and Santana&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;I think it's going to be Our Love is Here to Stay, Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;Somebody by Depeche Mode is also a good one.&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;Dreamgirl, DMB&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;I believe in love, dixie chicks&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;"If It Wasn't For Your Love" by Heather Hedley&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;I think we finally decided on "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel. Our other runner-up is "Come What May" from Moulin Rouge.&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;Steady as We Go - Dave Matthews Band&lt;br /&gt;Time of Our Life - Lionel Richie&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;Til There Was You - The Beatles&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;Songbird - Eva Cassidy, #6 on the Love Actually soundtrack&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;At Last by Etta James. Fitting b/c we have been dating for 10 years! :)&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;"What a Wonderful World' by Louis Armstrong or "Heaven" by Bryan Adams&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-114003373630542144?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114003373630542144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=114003373630542144' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114003373630542144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/114003373630542144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/02/post-valentines-bloat.html' title='Post Valentine’s Bloat'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113986882300244844</id><published>2006-02-13T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T15:13:43.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The weekend was fantabulous.</title><content type='html'>Friday, we met with a builder to discuss a hole in the ground which could possibly be our new house.  I’m not thrilled with the neighborhood, which consists of Indian neighbors living in a small brick house to the right that were videotaping the snow yesterday. &lt;br /&gt;He he he&lt;br /&gt;We went to RIO GRANDE afterwards for some margaritas which always makes me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday we got up and hit the gym like the superstars we are.&lt;br /&gt;My upper body is still sore today.  Especially my chest. ouch!&lt;br /&gt;Then we hung out with the realtor all afternoon looking at many POS and feeling quite depressed by the whole afternoon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew things would be looking up though because David decided to cash in his latest company award ( a night and dinner in D.C.)  He’s just such a rock star at work!&lt;br /&gt;We checked into the Ritz in Georgetown around 5, and got a room overlooking the church that we are getting married in later this summer (awwww).  After consuming a wonderful bottle of champagne, we got ready and caught a cab to a great little French restaurant off 15th called Gerard’s  it’s directly across the square from Georgia Browns.&lt;br /&gt;It was absolutely to die for!  Yum.  We had a great seat, with superb people watching, and saw a couple come in who had just gotten engaged.  They didn’t look nearly as in love as D and I are.  The guy had this look  of servitude and boredom on his face as his fiancé, placed a few cell phone calls and seemed to glare at her rock.  I’m thinking hey chick that rock isn’t nearly as important as the guy sitting across from you.  But it’s easy as an outsider to pass silent judgment, so I move on and stare intently into the love of my life’s eyes for the rest of the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday we stalked the hole in the ground neighborhood to get a different perspective.&lt;br /&gt;Then we went to Barnes &amp; Noble in Clarendon where the entire population was hogging up the Starbucks café (damn, everyone else had the same idea).  Here in the land of originals (including me) I swear.  After walking around numb in Williams Sonoma and Crate and Barrel, we hit Harris Teeter for some dinner fixins.  The rest of the evening I just got caught up on my TIVO  (CSI/Invasion/Law &amp; Order) Wild times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great weekend though!  Lots of relaxin couple time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113986882300244844?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113986882300244844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113986882300244844' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113986882300244844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113986882300244844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/02/weekend-was-fantabulous.html' title='The weekend was fantabulous.'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113949808060916227</id><published>2006-02-09T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T08:14:40.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Colder Than A Well Diggers Too Too</title><content type='html'>Don’t ask me what it means, my Granny Pat used to say that along with the ever popular, “Colder Than A Witches Tit”. NICE. Wonderful language to use in front of an obviously impressionable seven year old. It stuck didn’t it?&lt;br /&gt;;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m on my fifth cup of gut warming coffee this morning, hoping that I will warm up soon. Dear god, how many more days of this? I think my body is very confused. Sixty degrees one week then twenty five the next. Isn’t Virginia technically supposed to be the south? What gives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night David and I went to see a DJ show and hopefully get an idea of what style we might want at our wedding. I think they were all just a little more exuberant that what we were looking for. They also had props such as leis, blow up electric guitars, tamborines, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/john_lovitz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/john_lovitz.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Oh god I just had a flashback to the move The Wedding Singer and John Lovitz auditioning as one of the possible wedding singers.. “oh yes it’s ladies night – oh what a night” LOL&lt;br /&gt;Isn't he a sexy man?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/john_lovitz.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113949808060916227?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113949808060916227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113949808060916227' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113949808060916227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113949808060916227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/02/colder-than-well-diggers-too-too.html' title='Colder Than A Well Diggers Too Too'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113943910660971697</id><published>2006-02-08T15:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-08T15:54:39.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Burnt-out but I’m back</title><content type='html'>The insanity of this job combined with wedding planning and house hunting has taken its toll. I’ll stop my whiny ass complaining now though because life could be a whole lot worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally made it out of hiding for two count them two separate events this past weekend.&lt;br /&gt;Tallulah and a Super bowl party. My exciting social life.&lt;br /&gt;:-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something that has filled me with a sense of unrest lately are the &lt;strong&gt;pro-life picketers&lt;/strong&gt; hanging out at Farragut Square the last two Fridays in a row. I believe that everyone has the right to free expression, but those posters (dear lord) – they just gross me out. Are they really necessary to get the message across? &lt;strong&gt;Why do they have to be so gory?!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never had an abortion myself, but I’m not against it.  It's not like a disgusting poster is going to change my point of view.  How about a different approach?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113943910660971697?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113943910660971697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113943910660971697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113943910660971697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113943910660971697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/02/burnt-out-but-im-back.html' title='Burnt-out but I’m back'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113926344502800712</id><published>2006-02-06T14:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T15:09:09.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arlington Parking Ticket Fairies a.k.a. Idiots!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0624.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0624.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt; David ran downstairs Saturday morning at 8am with a pocket full of quarters, but joyfully announced upon returning, (my head sleepily poking out of the covers), that parking was free at the meter I had parked at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;AWESOME&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I awaken and walk downstairs to leave, only to find a bright green ticket on my truck. Pissed? You betcha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see it clearly states &lt;strong&gt;FREE PARKING&lt;/strong&gt; SAT, SUN, &amp;amp; HOLIDAYS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank god I had the digital camera with me. &lt;em&gt;Jerks!&lt;/em&gt; I have several more photos other than this one, so at least I can contest the damn thing. What I don't get back is the time it takes me to play the email game with Arlington County. I repeat again. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;JERKS!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113926344502800712?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113926344502800712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113926344502800712' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113926344502800712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113926344502800712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/02/arlington-parking-ticket-fairies-aka.html' title='Arlington Parking Ticket Fairies a.k.a. Idiots!'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113657333370403773</id><published>2006-01-06T11:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T12:26:56.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>House Hunting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/tt-trailerblue.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/200/tt-trailerblue.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; D and I are meeting with our new realtor tonight. We found her at an open house back before Christmas and both recognized immediately her energy and expertise in the Virginia housing market. In my own opinion, I don't feel like there is much out there right now that that we can afford or better yet fall in love with. We shall see. Perhaps she is the housing sherpa. Cross your fingers. We have to have a new (pug friendly) roof over our heads by end of March, since my current landlord will be building a massive addition on the house that I am currently renting now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Once we become home owners we will no longer be able to partake in those upscale happy hours with the pricey martinis...so I have found alternative and affordable solution for our favorite drinks, especially since that is our main activity outlet.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Screwdriver:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vodka and Tang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rum and Coke:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;rum and cola (because name-brand soft drinks are for rich folk).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Whiskey Sour:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;bottom shelf, rotgut whiskey and flat, generic lemon-lime soda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Long Island Iced Tea:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the dregs from all the liquor bottles you have lying around the house mixed with Crystal Light or any other powdered tea substitute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bloody Mary:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vodka mixed with watered-down ketchup combined with Taco Bell hot sauce packets. Garnish with crackers, government cheese, Snickers or whatever else you have handy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Margarita:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tequila and lime juice concentrate. Add tap water to taste. Drink out of one of them fancy glasses, you know, the ones that ain't plastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vodka and Red Bull:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;a handful of coffee grounds washed down with a shot of vodka. (Because it's not just trendy city slickers who get sucked into ordering $5.50 "poor man's speedballs" that taste like ass just because it's the current fad.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;recipies stolen from Boulder Weekly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113657333370403773?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113657333370403773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113657333370403773' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113657333370403773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113657333370403773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/01/house-hunting.html' title='House Hunting'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113648468691781078</id><published>2006-01-05T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-05T11:11:26.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Forget to VOTE</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The 2006 Bloggies&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2006.bloggies.com/"&gt;http://2006.bloggies.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113648468691781078?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113648468691781078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113648468691781078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113648468691781078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113648468691781078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/01/dont-forget-to-vote.html' title='Don&apos;t Forget to VOTE'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113641433034446937</id><published>2006-01-04T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T15:38:50.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Phlegm-bot</title><content type='html'>..and I am not alone. Most of the Washington area metro commuters were hacking with avengance yesterday. Bleh..bring on the Lysol an Purel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113641433034446937?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113641433034446937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113641433034446937' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113641433034446937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113641433034446937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2006/01/phlegm-bot.html' title='Phlegm-bot'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113509448897729388</id><published>2005-12-20T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-20T09:07:10.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not A Rock'in Good Time - The Family Stone</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/thefamilystone_bigearlyposter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/200/thefamilystone_bigearlyposter.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; If your looking for a feel good holiday movie, this one may not be it. Infact the woman in the row behind me, was sobbing during the whole second half. But, I went alone and that always makes me more perceptive of those around me (I would like to shout out a &lt;em&gt;thank you&lt;/em&gt; to &lt;strong&gt;wiggle foot guy&lt;/strong&gt; for shaking the whole row).&lt;br /&gt;Sarah Jessica Parker does not exude Carrie's personality even once(so if you think it's going to be an extension of Sex &amp;amp; The City, think again). She does not portray a sexy-cute woman but instead plays a cold, uptight investment analyst on her way to meet her "&lt;em&gt;future&lt;/em&gt; fiance's" parents for the first time. I found myself &lt;em&gt;not really&lt;/em&gt; rooting for her. She looks haggard, it's hard for the audience to believe that a guy as hot as Dermot Mulroney would be into her. (I know that sounds shameful) If you've seen any of the trailers, you can imagine that everything that can go wrong during a significant event such as this DOES. I will say that this movie doesn't sugar coat family personalities. &lt;strong&gt;That part I loved.&lt;/strong&gt; Rachel McAdams portrayed a very snotty mean sister, Amy. My favorite character was brother Ben, who is played by Luke Wilson. He is this lovable character from Berkley, who spends a good portion of the movie getting high with various characters. &lt;strong&gt;This movie is more frosting than the cupcake, but if you can live with that going into it, you shouldn't be disappointed.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113509448897729388?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113509448897729388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113509448897729388' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113509448897729388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113509448897729388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/12/not-rockin-good-time-family-stone.html' title='Not A Rock&apos;in Good Time - The Family Stone'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113502410111029931</id><published>2005-12-19T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-19T13:29:56.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Peppermint Martini</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/top_extreme_cherry_holiday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/top_extreme_cherry_holiday.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Ingredients&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;5 ounces of Chopin vodka &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2 ounces of white Creme de Menthe&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1/2 ounce of Peppermint Schnapps &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mini candy canes &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The mix&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Pour all of your liquid ingredients into a shaker 1/2 full of cracked ice.  &lt;br /&gt;Give a good 20 vigorous shakes and let the shaker rest for half a minute.&lt;br /&gt;Strain your lucious peppermint martini into 2 freezing martini glasses.&lt;br /&gt;Add a candy cane in each glass for garnish.&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just came across these fabulous new websites - &lt;strong&gt;martini of the week&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.martiniart.com/index.asp?PageAction=Custom&amp;ID=37"&gt;http://www.martiniart.com/index.asp?PageAction=Custom&amp;amp;ID=37&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cocktail times&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cocktailtimes.com/party/christmas_party.shtml"&gt;http://www.cocktailtimes.com/party/christmas_party.shtml&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113502410111029931?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113502410111029931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113502410111029931' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113502410111029931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113502410111029931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/12/peppermint-martini.html' title='Peppermint Martini'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113485642395103778</id><published>2005-12-17T14:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-17T14:53:43.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>80 Never Looked So Grand!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/Jack%20sailor%20picture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/Jack%20sailor%20picture.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today my Grandpa Turned 80!&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I hope I make it at least that long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a shot of him at 20.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113485642395103778?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113485642395103778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113485642395103778' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113485642395103778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113485642395103778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/12/80-never-looked-so-grand.html' title='80 Never Looked So Grand!'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113485602546933235</id><published>2005-12-17T14:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-17T14:48:49.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All is Well in Who who'ville</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/CLandGrinch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/CLandGrinch.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well, now that the &lt;strong&gt;grinch&lt;/strong&gt; has been removed, it's now time to celebrate the holidays. I'm moving in a rather poky way today, but it was good to be couch bound because it gave me the opportunity to send out some Thank you notes &amp;amp; Christmas cards. Normally I find Christmas card writing to be a tedious process. I usually only like to do them two or three at a time because I want to express my sentiment in an individual way. This year took even more creativity on the the writing side, especialy since I didn't have embarrassing photos of the dogs to distract the recipients. I just didn't have the time or the mindset with all this medical scariness going on to dress up the dogs in humiliating outfits and have David help me pose them just so. (oh yes - just wait till there are kids in the picture) I just have one thing to say, no matter how lame, or how cheap they are, everyone loves to get Christmas cards from their friends. You don't have to spend a lot of money to send a lot of cheer to someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much Love,&lt;br /&gt;oxoxo&lt;br /&gt;- Cindy Lou Who&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113485602546933235?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113485602546933235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113485602546933235' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113485602546933235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113485602546933235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/12/all-is-well-in-who-whoville.html' title='All is Well in Who who&apos;ville'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113465935688509572</id><published>2005-12-15T07:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-15T08:09:16.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chill in the Air</title><content type='html'>I'm filled with malevolent feelings today as I contemplate tomorrow's horrific outpatient ordeal. I know I am probably making this whole thing into a much bigger deal than it is, but it's just the fear of the unknown that I am battling with. I guess I'm always scared of secretly being aware and in pain while I am under anesthesia (especially this anesthesia known as twilight). I actually talked to the anesthesiologist yesterday who informed me that I will conk out and wake up in what will feel like seconds. These doctors and nurses do this all the time; why then can I not trust that all will be well? I think part of the problem is that my OB/Gyn has the bedside manner of a cold mackerel. After this, I am finding a new doctor. One that takes the time to explain my diagnoses in a warmer way, and answers all my questions without herding me out the door in five minutes. This one is clinical and cold. Wish me luck, I should be out by 11:30 tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;Then back to the holidays (which I have totally put off because of this) and back to dreaming about my wedding to D.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113465935688509572?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113465935688509572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113465935688509572' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113465935688509572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113465935688509572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/12/chill-in-air.html' title='Chill in the Air'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113458503335736058</id><published>2005-12-14T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-14T11:30:33.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ICE HARVEST - hilarious &amp; demented</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/john_cusack1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/john_cusack1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ice Harvest has not been highly publicized, infact I was shocked that it was playing at a mainstream theater such as Lowes in Georgetown - it seems more like the type of gritty movie that normally plays in Shirlington. I hate that theatre by the way, but it shows many great flicks. I could actually do an entire post about why I cant stand most of the movie theatres in this area, but I'll come back to that at a later date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the movie, which stars John Cusak, Billy Bob Thornton &amp; down the list Oliver Platt (who stole all the scenes and had us busting up the whole movie)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been a John Cusak fan since Better Off Dead, I must admit I love all of his lame ass movies. Charlie is not one of his typical characters though, with the exception of his self deprecating attitude. So if you think your going to see a remake of Serendipity, think again. The backdrop of most of the scenes, is a plethora of stribclubs from Wichita, Kansas. A little more T&amp;amp;A than I like to see, but I survived. Charlie is a lawyer for the mob who steals 2 million from his boss(Randy Quaid) with a plan to leave town that same night. I don't want to give anymore away, because I think you should go see it. I haven't been to a movie that kept me this interested in quite some time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113458503335736058?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113458503335736058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113458503335736058' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113458503335736058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113458503335736058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/12/ice-harvest-hilarious-demented.html' title='ICE HARVEST - hilarious &amp; demented'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113407855824857344</id><published>2005-12-08T14:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-08T14:49:18.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby It's Cold Outside</title><content type='html'>I'm thinking of distributing mini bottles of hooch to the homeless folks on Farragut square.  I'm layered and sober at the moment, so I can only imagine how they are feeling today.  Brrr...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113407855824857344?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113407855824857344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113407855824857344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113407855824857344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113407855824857344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/12/baby-its-cold-outside.html' title='Baby It&apos;s Cold Outside'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113389175194447798</id><published>2005-12-06T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-06T10:55:51.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ok, I'm Starting to Freak Out</title><content type='html'>I just hate most doctors.  Why do they have to be so clinical all the time?  I need some warm fuzzy right now. Hey lady I realize you do this every day, but I don't.  Ughhh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113389175194447798?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113389175194447798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113389175194447798' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113389175194447798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113389175194447798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/12/ok-im-starting-to-freak-out.html' title='Ok, I&apos;m Starting to Freak Out'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113189151661885592</id><published>2005-11-13T09:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T07:18:36.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How Did I Ever Live Without...</title><content type='html'>With the upcoming holiday season vastly approaching, I find the need as most women do to hunker down and nest with those closest to me.  Part of this ritual almost always includes cooking and consuming mass quanities of harvest goodness in the forms of turkey, ham, brisket, and as my mom says, pies all around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What led me to today's post was actually a need for a new duvet cover.  So I'm flipping through the pages of the latest Bed Bath &amp; Beyond flyer when I stumbled upon the As Seen on TV page.  Lo &amp; Behold - &lt;strong&gt;The Betty Crocker Bake N' Fill&lt;/strong&gt;!  I must admit I am absolutely facinated with deserts with hidden layers. David hon, if you are reading this stop now...because I think Santa might bring you one!  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.bakenfill.com/bakenfill/_images/homepage.jpg" align="left"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113189151661885592?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113189151661885592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113189151661885592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113189151661885592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113189151661885592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/11/how-did-i-ever-live-without.html' title='How Did I Ever Live Without...'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113085426578121212</id><published>2005-11-01T09:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-01T07:12:07.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Howwwwlloween</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0531.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0531.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0535.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0535.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls put on a fashion show for the neighbors dropping by.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113085426578121212?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113085426578121212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113085426578121212' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113085426578121212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113085426578121212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/11/happy-howwwwlloween.html' title='Happy Howwwwlloween'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113041898836618579</id><published>2005-10-27T09:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T07:16:28.393-06:00</updated><title type='text'>1 Year of Wow</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/SOX.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/SOX.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is how I feel, when I think about one year since David first perked my interest.  &lt;em&gt;AKA- Steph's Birthday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;October 27th While Watching the Sox Kick Butt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wow!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;How Unexpected!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hurray The Curse has been lifted!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;It’s about DAMN time!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113041898836618579?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113041898836618579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113041898836618579' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113041898836618579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113041898836618579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/10/1-year-of-wow.html' title='1 Year of Wow'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113034938411512889</id><published>2005-10-26T11:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T12:07:33.813-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bridesmaids</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/bouquet1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/bouquet1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Introverted Tomboys Make Poor Girly Brides&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my life, as far back as I can remember, I have been friends with boys. I blame my dad for this, since I was basically raised like a boy. I learned how to hunt, ride, and vaccinate cows instead of how to wear makeup. I didn't really identify well with other girls from the start. My best friend (other than David) is a guy, albeit a very girly guy. Even in college, (since I worked full time), I joined no sororities or member organizations. I was very down to business and did what I needed to do and went home. Plus I'm sort of a loner by nature, so it's really hard for me to make socializing a priority.&lt;br /&gt;I really enjoy being alone most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pre-D.C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always had one or two decent girl friends pre-D.C. But after I moved, I found it hard to stay in touch with them. Lifestyles in Texas are very different from here, and my favorite mode of communication is email. My very best friend since middle school Peyton, is all but computer illiterate. Plus she took up with some Dr. Phil cult a couple of years back and well is no longer the booze slugging hound I remember from our younger days. Not that -that is bad, we all must grow up..just not in a culty way. I also have another very close friend, Kristi, who signs all her emails to me with God Bless. I swear if the bible belt runs down the middle of the country, then Texas is definitely the belt buckle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Segregating Myself&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after I moved to D.C. I was involved in a pretty intense relationship with a guy who wanted me to spend every waking moment with him. It's really more my fault that his, that I let him segregate me off from the possibility of making girlfriends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karen &amp;amp; The Infamous ARL's&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Move ahead four years, relationship ends painfully, and I decide to rent at house that, at the time, I couldn't afford alone..thus requiring me to get a roommate. The house was so sunny and had a yard for my dogs, so I took it. I had seen many Craigslist postings for roommates, so I didn't think I would have a problem finding someone that was at least decent and paid their bills on time. I really lucked out when I found Karen. Karen was the least judgmental mental friend I have ever made. She took me under her wing (which I really needed post-breakup) and she introduced me to a group of fabulous absolutely &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/18428552@N00/28504468/" target="blank"&gt;non-catty women&lt;/a&gt;.I have had wonderful times with all of them. They are teaching me the joys that come along with women friendships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the kicker, one of the ARL's I have asked to be in the wedding, but I am not sure who else to ask, or if they would even be interested. I enjoy them all, and I think they would indeed enjoy it, but I'm feeling a bit insecure about it. I could think of no one else I would rather have around me than the ARL's. Ughh, what a conundrum! If only men could be bridesmaids, I'd have all my positions filled up. David has I think five people, including his best man on his side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What to do what to do.....?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113034938411512889?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113034938411512889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113034938411512889' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113034938411512889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113034938411512889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/10/bridesmaids.html' title='Bridesmaids'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-113018727646684925</id><published>2005-10-24T17:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T14:55:52.693-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Knot is taking over my life</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.theknot.com/topnav/logo.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for the lack of recent posts, but I have been in discussion forums with a different (and sometimes psycho lot) &lt;strong&gt;The Knotties&lt;/strong&gt;.  I'm sure it will just be a &lt;em&gt;temporary&lt;/em&gt; insanity of sorts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-113018727646684925?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/113018727646684925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=113018727646684925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113018727646684925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/113018727646684925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/10/knot-is-taking-over-my-life.html' title='The Knot is taking over my life'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112957465805363394</id><published>2005-10-17T14:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T12:46:56.930-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Momma in D.C.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/maggianos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/maggianos.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mom arrived on my doorstep Thursday afternoon and I didn't sit down until after I dropped her at the airport at 6 last night. She also brought her dear friend from England, Valerie with her. Val comes over once a year for her annual shop-a-thon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally Mom &amp;amp; I carve out a weekend once a year someplace beachy just for the two of us. We weren't able to do that this year however, because my stepdad had some sort of crazy unplanned surgery around our normal gal-timeslot. Usually we do this trip in places I like to refer to a &lt;strong&gt;"&lt;em&gt;neutral turf&lt;/em&gt;".&lt;/strong&gt; This way neither of us is stressed by the normal activities from our daily lives, and can truly enjoy and appreciate each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this year, the trip involved her in D.C., at a bussy time for me. I just started a new job two months ago, just trying to get over a cold, just got engaged. Whew. I'm not being self centered here, I actually just wish it had come at a time when I could devote more to entertaining her. But, as I said, she had a compadre in tow, and Friday the two of them did the monument/museum tour, while I worked. I was just so proud of them the way they took to the metro with their large print maps and owned the city!&lt;br /&gt;:-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friday&lt;/strong&gt; evening had us at Tysons Mall for more shopping. We even checked out the Victorias Secret store. Didn't seem racy to any of us, it just looked more like a Fredericks of Hollywood than anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saturday&lt;/strong&gt;, after they begged, I indulged them with a trip to Davids bridal, where we were only "&lt;em&gt;supposed to look&lt;/em&gt;". They found some atrocious dress, and I think it was because I was weak from my cold, but they beat me into submission to try the thing on. I just have to say I looked like a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Giant Peep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, or a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Hostess Snowball&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Val was going to town with her digital camera, and I was being molested in places, by a sales lady named Tiggy, that I feel like I should normally at leats get a cocktail first. It was so demeaning, but all in good fun for mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saturday evening&lt;/strong&gt;, we had a nice dinner at &lt;strong&gt;Maggianos&lt;/strong&gt; and then out to the &lt;strong&gt;Barns at Wolftrap&lt;/strong&gt; to see &lt;strong&gt;Karla Bonoff&lt;/strong&gt;, who is a songwriter for most of Linda Rondstats singles. So it was right up the old gals alley! David is so tolerable. &lt;strong&gt;:-) &lt;/strong&gt;Plus he was very good at bringing me more wine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sunday&lt;/strong&gt; we took them to brunch at Whitlows, then another afternoon of pain at a Bridal Expo at the Renaissance Hotel. David had to work (lucky dog!) There was a fashion show, which was nice, but after about 10 min, everything started to look the same. I now have 12 bridal magazines from this show 5 of which are just devoted to DC weddings! Who knew?! What a racket! I'm all for eloping to Vegas, but the folks would just kill us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I just melted on my couch with David, a glass of Syrah, and Pretty Woman on the TV. What a weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112957465805363394?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112957465805363394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112957465805363394' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112957465805363394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112957465805363394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/10/momma-in-dc.html' title='Momma in D.C.'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112905017828219521</id><published>2005-10-11T01:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T11:04:18.556-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Head is about to POP</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/kleenex1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/kleenex1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinus preassure is the WORST! I drove to Clarendon and metro'd the rest of the way in today. I had to wait for 4 freaking full trains before I found one that I could barely squeeze myself into!&lt;br /&gt;All this and it's rainy and there is a chill in the air. I feel like going home, but I left early yesterday because of this cold - so I am going to stick it out - cause I'm from Texas and I'm tough dang it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I have no idea when or where David and I are going to get married. It's like there were a few days of calm...now people are asking and I'm not much of a bridal magazine chick.&lt;br /&gt;;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112905017828219521?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112905017828219521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112905017828219521' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112905017828219521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112905017828219521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/10/my-head-is-about-to-pop.html' title='My Head is about to POP'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112897739354485288</id><published>2005-10-10T16:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T14:49:53.553-06:00</updated><title type='text'>White Trash Mom</title><content type='html'>I found this by accident the other day and LMAO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.whitetrashmom.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://www.whitetrashmom.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112897739354485288?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112897739354485288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112897739354485288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112897739354485288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112897739354485288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/10/white-trash-mom.html' title='White Trash Mom'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112871692708821525</id><published>2005-10-07T16:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-10-07T14:34:26.543-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I LOVE THIS MAN!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/wdb1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/wdb1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the couples that make you gag, because they are just so disgustingly cute and in love. I have to admit - that is US.   It's ok for me to say this, because last night below the Washington Monument he popped the question and this cowgirl said - yeehaw, I mean - YES!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112871692708821525?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112871692708821525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112871692708821525' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112871692708821525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112871692708821525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-love-this-man.html' title='I LOVE THIS MAN!!!'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112870025702567274</id><published>2005-10-07T11:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-10-07T09:52:11.870-06:00</updated><title type='text'>National Review 50th Anniversary</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/wfb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/wfb.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David and I don't normally swing in these circles, but we went.  I have to say that it was a fabulous event.  The National Building Museum is a sight to behold.  Mr. Buckley was a captivating vision, even at 79.  His blue eyes sparkled out into the audience of more than a thousand. The drinks, the dinner, the dancing (that I didn't do).  What a success!  May this &lt;a href="http://www.nationalreview.com/"&gt;publication&lt;/a&gt; live on for future generations to embrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112870025702567274?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112870025702567274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112870025702567274' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112870025702567274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112870025702567274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/10/national-review-50th-anniversary.html' title='National Review 50th Anniversary'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112852016112431753</id><published>2005-10-05T09:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-10-05T07:57:16.906-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Willow - Exquisite</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/wine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/wine.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; One would not expect to find such a beautiful culinary experience on Fairfax Dr.  Yet tucked away in the former space once occupied by Gaffneys, there it is - &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.willowva.com/" target="blank"&gt;Willow&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night David and I enjoyed an amazing dinner with his parents, and I have to say that both the menu and atmosphere were memorable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started out with salads, soups(and great cocktails).  I have to admit, that my heirloom tomato salad with avocado was not as impressive as I had hoped, but David's corn chowder was delectable in a most whimsical way. The corn chowder came with a miniature crabcake floating in the center. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next came the entrees, I had the Mustard Crusted Miniature Rack of Pork with smoked ham hock jus, caramelized onions and spinach tart.  Although it was delightful, it was a little heavier than I normally go for(breaded as well- which the menu did not depict).  But the delightful bottle of Rioja helped it to go down smoothly.  David dined on bacon encrusted salmon.  Although I am not a salmon fan, I enjoyed it very much.  It practically jumped off the fork and melted in your mouth.  The parents had halibut and a ribeye, that looked equally amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finished off the evening with an caramelized apple tort with nutmeg icecream.  There was not a crumb to be had within five minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a classy new addition to Arlington!  With Tallulah, Boulevard Woodgrill, and now Willow, I feel as though Arlington is coming into its own with not only great edibles, but also great atmosphere for the over 30 crowd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112852016112431753?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112852016112431753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112852016112431753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112852016112431753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112852016112431753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/10/willow-exquisite.html' title='Willow - Exquisite'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112843417948757096</id><published>2005-10-04T10:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-10-04T07:59:01.770-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One Wedding &amp; A Music Festival</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0481.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0481.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My old roomate and dear friend tied the knot with her dream man last weekend.  The wedding was absolutely beautiful.  Candles and flowers as far as the eye could see, and so so very romantic, well except for the 2 yr old infront of us during the ceremony who kept talking loudly and spilling goldfish all over the floor.  It was a small venue, and the goldfish sounded like marbles hitting the floor. This racket caused me to miss my friends vows. (Anyway as to not ruin this moment, I'm not going to go into my opinion that weddings are for adults) Honestly I wish I had taken more photos, but we were just having too much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0480.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0480.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we flew to Austin for the ACL festival.  The festival kicks off Thursday evening, but we were only able to attend Saturday and Sunday this year.  One of my favorite bands, was some funky ho down band called the &lt;a href="www.thewearyboys.com"&gt;Weary Boys&lt;/a&gt;. The other big acts included Coldplay, Wilco, and Dirks Bentley.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The festival was freaking HOT.  108 Degrees!! Hardly any shade, and everyone was in it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0509.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0509.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an amazing trip, and D and I had a great time.  Especially walking around the capital building at sunset.  It's just such a beautiful structure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0510.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0510.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0512.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0512.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112843417948757096?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112843417948757096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112843417948757096' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112843417948757096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112843417948757096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/10/one-wedding-music-festival.html' title='One Wedding &amp; A Music Festival'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112843284794423427</id><published>2005-10-04T09:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-10-04T07:34:08.040-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What A Sweetie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0518.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0518.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112843284794423427?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112843284794423427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112843284794423427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112843284794423427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112843284794423427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/10/what-sweetie.html' title='What A Sweetie'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112810023415196482</id><published>2005-09-30T14:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T12:23:06.913-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Jet Setting Cowgirl</title><content type='html'>Updates &amp; photos coming next week on Karen's wedding, Austin City Limits Music Festival, and Coldplay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a non-stop week for me since this time last Friday.&lt;br /&gt;New Hope, PA&lt;br /&gt;Philadelphia&lt;br /&gt;Austin&lt;br /&gt;-way to much time in the Cincinnati Airport - terminal of hell&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; Chicago for work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm surprised I have enough energy to tailgate before ColdPlay tonight.&lt;br /&gt;But, I will summon up the strength to drink some of David's homade hurricanes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=200 border=1 align=center bgcolor=#ffffff cellpadding=4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 parts OJ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 parts pineapple juice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 parts light rum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 parts dark rum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 part amaretto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;splash of grenadine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Opening tonight for Coldplay is a band called Rilo Kiley. I saw them in Austin Sunday, and they seemed to put on a good performance. Although they were whining about the 106 degree temperature. Hello, we were directly in the sun as well, and weren't being paid ungodly amounts of money to be there. Who knew rockers were a big bunch of cry babies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least, I have got to check out the new expansion at Tysons corner mall. They have an AMC theatre that has something like 16 screens!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112810023415196482?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112810023415196482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112810023415196482' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112810023415196482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112810023415196482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/09/jet-setting-cowgirl.html' title='Jet Setting Cowgirl'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112741400236729856</id><published>2005-09-22T14:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-09-22T12:33:22.376-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Johnny Cash was never this HOT</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/joaquin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/joaquin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/joaquin2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/joaquin2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112741400236729856?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112741400236729856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112741400236729856' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112741400236729856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112741400236729856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/09/johnny-cash-was-never-this-hot.html' title='Johnny Cash was never this HOT'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112741006156104525</id><published>2005-09-22T01:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-09-22T11:42:15.973-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Looking Good for Our Trip to the Austin City Limits Music Festival</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/storm_PATH2.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img  src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/storm_PATH2.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David &amp;amp; I were planning on flying to Austin Sat mroning and catching the last two days of the Austin City Limits festival. Now, the chances of that happening are pretty slim. Stupid stupid Hurricane season. Now we will just have tohang out in Arlington and listen to his CD collection and drink hurricanes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112741006156104525?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112741006156104525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112741006156104525' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112741006156104525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112741006156104525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/09/not-looking-good-for-our-trip-to.html' title='Not Looking Good for Our Trip to the Austin City Limits Music Festival'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112697078111824165</id><published>2005-09-17T11:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-09-17T09:30:35.053-06:00</updated><title type='text'>He's No Good He's No Good He's No Good..Honey..he's NO GOOD</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/no.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/no.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It never ceases to astonish me the lengths people will go to not be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point in case: Sweet, Cute, intelligent, Successful Career girl - age 30, tolertates very long distance relationship with divorced 36 yr old possessive jackass with kid. The man does well for himself, very well financially, but he is lacking in the relationship and social etiquette skills department. Did I mention he's very possessive and insecure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole thing is just very sad. She's reached a point where she thinks that this is a good as she will ever get. She's settling. She's told me that to my face. They never make it through a weekend together without an argument, not just disagreeing, but yelling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can do is stand back and watch it happen. There's nothing I can do but let it run it's course right? It's just such a weird pattern. I don't get it. Any thoughts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112697078111824165?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112697078111824165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112697078111824165' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112697078111824165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112697078111824165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/09/hes-no-good-hes-no-good-hes-no.html' title='He&apos;s No Good He&apos;s No Good He&apos;s No Good..Honey..he&apos;s NO GOOD'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112629044993851317</id><published>2005-09-09T02:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T15:27:21.830-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Metro Queen</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/metro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/metro.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah the metro, foreign to me except for sporting events, concerts, and the occasional class downtown. Due to the new job, I have been riding the metro a total of three weeks now. The first few days were filled with nervous anticipation: will my card work, should I stand on the escalator or walk, is my bag too big(yes), do I start moving for the exit before the train comes to a stop?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I feel as though I am in the swing of things. Just in time for the new season of commuters! Oh my lord. I have never sweat before work before now. That is just foul. People shoved together like cattle, and smelling not much better. "Oh yes, I think someone forgot to brush their teeth this morning." Why are these trains so crowded? Why is everyone grumpy? Why is the orange line filled with quiet stiffs while the blue line is bubbling with conversation and laughing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say, I have only had two awful incidents, and they both involved broken down trains. I'm a patient person compared to most waiting...but people will just push and shove. What is wrong with you people? Have some humility, we are all human beings here. We are all anxious to get home! I find that I will wait a couple of trains rather than get on one where I can't even turn around. Hey whose armpit is in my face today? Blehhh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not metro fashionable either. It's a flashback to all those times I was the nerd. My bag is not cool. It's a freebie lands end that does not match my outfit. My shoes are not metro cool. I have blue and orange nike tenis shoes on under my suit pants, while the fashionable people seem to either be gritting their teeth from the pain of their heels, or wearing flip flops. I'm anxious to see what the fashionable, "I walk 10 minutes to the metro then another 8 to work" winter footwear will be. If it's still flip flops, people are going to need some toe implants from the frostbite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangely today, I am feeling chipper. I think it's because I drove!&lt;br /&gt;;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112629044993851317?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112629044993851317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112629044993851317' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112629044993851317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112629044993851317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/09/metro-queen.html' title='Metro Queen'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112567014709467445</id><published>2005-09-02T10:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-09-02T08:09:07.103-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank God for the Weekend</title><content type='html'>Ever have one of those Fridays that you just feel like collapsing?  I feel like tonight, after I get the lawn mowed, that I will just melt into a pool of butter and not move for at least 12 hours.&lt;br /&gt;I admit,  that I have a sensitive soul.  I feel that when I witness awful things - that I can't erase them easily.  It sticks to my soul and thus dampens my mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all this hurricane madness.  I just feel so sorry for those poor people, and just the madness.  I found myself getting all teary eyed on the metro while reading the paper this morning.  I had to compose myself, and not the waterworks flow like a hydrant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I got off the metro at Farragut West and walked past the Farragut Noth stop only to see a woman had this chocolate lab; a guide dog.  Now who knows if there is any validity to this (thats the sad thing) But she had this sign that said injured homeless guide dog.  It looked very hurt.  I think it might have been missing a foot or something awful.  Ughh hurt animals are like a knife in the heart to me.  So I am sure if she is still there at lunch, I will give her some money.  Hopefully it will go towards helping that poor dog, otherwise it's coming home in a cab with me tonight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I just miss seeing David throughout the day.  When he and I used to work together..our coffee breaks were the highlight of my day.  I work very hard at this new job, so usually the day passes by fast, but not without thinking of him.  We just hit our 10 month mark, and with every month it seems as though we just get better.  That's weird, because in my past relationships, they have started out hearts and cupids, then reality sits in and everyone's baggage starts to seep through, and you start to get tired of one another and they get on your nerves.  Now David and I both have our baggage, but we are always honest with one another, and we talk to each other, and takle issues as a team. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been out of town on weekends the last month, so I am looking forward to a nice, quiet, weekend at home.  Ahhhh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112567014709467445?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112567014709467445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112567014709467445' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112567014709467445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112567014709467445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/09/thank-god-for-weekend.html' title='Thank God for the Weekend'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112558365390669381</id><published>2005-09-01T10:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-09-01T08:07:33.916-06:00</updated><title type='text'>If you love seafood - try this place!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Black Salt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seafood, Eclectic&lt;br /&gt;Palisades 4883 MacArthur Blvd., NWWashington, DC202-342-9101&lt;br /&gt;Open Tuesday through Sunday for lunch and dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The menu is divided into small plates, appetizers, and main courses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over drinks, one might order several of the &lt;strong&gt;small plates&lt;/strong&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;·        a single white anchovy over microgreens, dressed with lemon and black-olive oil;&lt;br /&gt;·        a wood-grilled sardine with olive persillade;&lt;br /&gt;·        braised baby octopus with chilies, garlic, and tomato;&lt;br /&gt;·        a single fried oyster crusted in cornmeal and served with a sauce of sour orange and Tupelo honey;&lt;br /&gt;·        or a broiled shrimp wrapped in Serrano ham.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Appetizers &lt;/strong&gt;are more substantial.&lt;br /&gt;·        Fried Ipswich clams are nicely fried and served with aïoli and romesco sauce.&lt;br /&gt;·        Wild rockfish cheek with foie gras is an unusual treat, tender, flavorful, and served with a crisp potato gaufrette.&lt;br /&gt;·        A dish of yellowfin tuna with Japanese cucumber, papaya, Asian pear, and a mignonette made from sweet rice wine and the citrus fruit yuzu sounded busy but was a delicious combination of flavors and textures set off by the pristinely fresh tuna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The menu of &lt;strong&gt;main courses&lt;/strong&gt; consists of some items repeated from day to day and others that vary depending on the fresh fish available.&lt;br /&gt;·        There's usually a wood-grilled dorado served over creamy polenta with roasted shallots, sun-dried tomato, and a rosemary butter sauce. The fish has been perfectly cooked, and the treatment, whose plethora of ingredients might offend purists, is delicious.&lt;br /&gt;·        A star of the menu is the whole black sea bass, fresh, moist within, perfectly crusted, and served with a combination of sweet-corn salsa, chipotle rice, and black-bean sauce. On some evenings it has been garnished differently, but the Mexican combination is hard to beat.&lt;br /&gt;·        The menu includes an appealing trio of fish stews--an Italian cioppino, a French bourride, and a Spanish zarzuela. The bourride, while chock full of first-rate fish, shellfish, fennel, and potatoes, was almost cloyingly rich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most popular of pastry chef Susan Wallace's &lt;strong&gt;desserts&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;·        is a refined Key-lime pie topped with whipped cream and surrounded by a compote of huckleberries.&lt;br /&gt;·        Her sampler of crèmes brûlée--orange vanilla, pistachio, and chocolate cinnamon--is also delicious, and the&lt;br /&gt;·        chocolate hazelnut crunch cake with caramel and chocolate sauces is the dessert of choice for chocoholics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Excerpt taken from Washingtonian Online&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112558365390669381?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112558365390669381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112558365390669381' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112558365390669381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112558365390669381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/09/if-you-love-seafood-try-this-place.html' title='If you love seafood - try this place!'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112550158726728842</id><published>2005-08-31T11:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-08-31T09:19:47.276-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Red Cross Support for Victims of Katrina</title><content type='html'>In the wake of Katrina, the Red Cross has the largest natural disaster mobilization in its history, larger than services for last year's four Florida hurricanes combined.&lt;br /&gt;If you want to help, here is the link to the Red Cross' donations page --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="https://www.redcross.org/donate/donation-form.asp" href="https://www.redcross.org/donate/donation-form.asp"&gt;https://www.redcross.org/donate/donation-form.asp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112550158726728842?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112550158726728842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112550158726728842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112550158726728842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112550158726728842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/08/red-cross-support-for-victims-of.html' title='Red Cross Support for Victims of Katrina'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112543856941319447</id><published>2005-08-30T18:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-08-30T15:57:58.750-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Some - Hill People</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/31770.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/31770.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Live on their own planet. I mean seriously, I don't care which Republican congressman works out at your gym.  Get some new conversation topics...Get a life. NEXT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another sad note...Journey is sold out for next Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so bummed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112543856941319447?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112543856941319447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112543856941319447' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112543856941319447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112543856941319447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/08/some-hill-people.html' title='Some - Hill People'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112505939322748801</id><published>2005-08-26T08:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-08-26T06:29:53.236-06:00</updated><title type='text'>FRIDAY</title><content type='html'>Driving into work today, so I'm just sitting here slacking with my coffee.  Better get a move on.&lt;br /&gt;Happy Friday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112505939322748801?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112505939322748801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112505939322748801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112505939322748801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112505939322748801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/08/friday.html' title='FRIDAY'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11927603.post-112491155180389669</id><published>2005-08-24T15:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-08-24T13:29:54.156-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I had LUNCH today, and other interesting facts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/1600/IMG_0391.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2923/987/320/IMG_0391.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I have been killing myself at the new job. But, after a meeting with my predecessor, I had determined that I needed to chill the heck out (just a little). I'm an over achiever by nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I got on the metro at 8:55, and cruised it peacefully into the city. I ran some reports, and sent David's mom a thank you card(They welcomed me in warm hospitality and open arms this past weekend), and hit CVS for some much needed cleaning items and Purell, which my roommate says is a life saver when riding the metro. I'm a germophobe, so this past week has really grossed me out. Yesterday , I was on a train that broke down in Rosslyn. The fun never ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, not to compete with Kathryn's flowers, but I thought I would show the beautiful arrangement that David sent me here in the office. Is he great or what?&lt;br /&gt;;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11927603-112491155180389669?l=webcowgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/feeds/112491155180389669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11927603&amp;postID=112491155180389669' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112491155180389669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11927603/posts/default/112491155180389669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://webcowgirl.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-had-lunch-today-and-other.html' title='I had LUNCH today, and other interesting facts'/><author><name>webcowgirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15942906042843655206</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/6/8458204_0c8f07d92f_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
