<?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-8934788</id><updated>2012-01-21T07:28:56.592-05:00</updated><category term='sixteen'/><category term='fridge friday'/><category term='top 11'/><category term='furnace'/><category term='the basement'/><category term='new look'/><category term='shonda'/><category term='books'/><category term='biggest loser'/><category term='thanksgiving'/><category term='bullets'/><category term='grey&apos;s anatomy'/><category term='jameson'/><category term='bb10'/><category term='end of the year'/><category term='gary sinise'/><category term='phone'/><category term='wargames'/><category term='the biggest loser'/><category 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watchers'/><category term='rock of love'/><category term='walmart'/><category term='Armed and Famous'/><category term='jaw'/><category term='pneumonia'/><title type='text'>Ficken Chingers</title><subtitle type='html'>The blog that sounds dirty...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1141</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-6331980889066251168</id><published>2010-06-15T22:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T22:23:35.415-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='newblog'/><title type='text'>I've moved!</title><content type='html'>Come visit me at &lt;a href="http://anjpanj.blogspot.com/"&gt;my new blog full o' bloggy goodness&lt;/a&gt;! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was time for a change...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-6331980889066251168?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/6331980889066251168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=6331980889066251168&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6331980889066251168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6331980889066251168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2010/06/ive-moved.html' title='I&apos;ve moved!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-6869559440492538748</id><published>2009-09-07T10:27:00.021-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T00:52:20.970-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='american idol'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='concert'/><title type='text'>Facebook Status Updates Killed My Blog!</title><content type='html'>Did you read the title? Sadly, it's true. I usually update my FB status with what is going on in my life and I have more readers there and well, it's made me lazy! There are lots of things I need to write here, however, I'm going to channel my inner Julie Chen and say, but first, I'm going to write a little about my Idol concert experience from Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we walked into Conseco Fieldhouse and some random guy gave us 2ND ROW TICKETS!! Oh man, were we ever stoked! And...um...wait...hang on. That was &lt;a href="http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/08/american-idol-concert-or-how-i-fell-in.html"&gt;LAST year!&lt;/a&gt; Sadly, I did not run into my pretend best friend, greek god, Peter from Marquis Jet this year.  No matter. We still had a great time! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, let me begin at the beginning. Rewind to Thursday and I am at work, doing a job that is out of my normal office so I get to listen to the &lt;a href="http://wlbc.com/"&gt;radio&lt;/a&gt;. The contest for Idol tickets was called "Simon Says."  They played a short snippet of Simon and then you had to be the 19th caller and repeat what Simon said verbatim. Long story short, I WON! Yay, me!!  4 tickets, not 2! Bonus! So, I proceed to email my co-workers and call everyone I know so I can brag and make everyone hate me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked the tickets up that day after work and surprised the kids with them. Brianna was home from college for the long weekend and she already knew about the tickets. Braelyn jumped up and down and Jameson pouted because he thought I was only taking Braelyn like I did last year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FF to Saturday and after getting off work, I ran home and changed clothes and we were off to Indy for the show. It was an uneventful ride to Indy as evidenced here by Jameson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Click any picture to see it larger.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqW00cst65I/AAAAAAAABZM/IamMlMgTjDk/s1600-h/260.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqW00cst65I/AAAAAAAABZM/IamMlMgTjDk/s320/260.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378904143113874322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only $5 to park and we headed into Conseco, past all the crazies who had been lined up to 'meet' the Idols since God knows when. One woman we passed on the stairs, who had to be at least 35 said, "Adam Lambert rocks my world!" I said, (to Brianna, of course, because far be it from me to start something in a crowd of Indiana Glamberts), "Too bad he's gay." Yes, I realize she may have only been speaking of his music, but I doubt it. What I wanted to do was stand in that crowd and yell, "None of y'all are turning him!" Anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, we stood here for at least a half hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXCeaSfzeI/AAAAAAAABZU/pdslldeoImE/s1600-h/souven.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXCeaSfzeI/AAAAAAAABZU/pdslldeoImE/s320/souven.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378919157672693218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kids died at least 13 times during that half hour. DIED, I tell you!! And WHY did it take a half hour?? Because people CUT, that's why! Also, people DIDN'T. BRING. CASH. Oh em gee with the debit and credit cards! It took forever! We had our order ready before we got to the front. The lady in Pacers yellow came to us, we recited what we wanted in over-priced merchandise, she got it, we paid, we moved. The end. It was like the Seinfeld soup nazi episode, I swear. Everyone else in line?  George asking where his bread was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;$20+ worth of pretzels, popcorn and drinks later and we FINALLY headed up to our balcony seats. My knees immediately turned to jello and I cried all the way up to my seat. OK, almost cried. Have I mentioned that I hate heights? Because I do. Have I mentioned that the balcony at Conseco it at DEATH degree of steepness? Because it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXEr598uhI/AAAAAAAABZc/ZnbwM3KT9I8/s1600-h/264.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXEr598uhI/AAAAAAAABZc/ZnbwM3KT9I8/s320/264.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378921588537997842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;This does not adequately show the steepness degree, but trust me.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Behold, $14 dollars worth of pretzels. $5 of it was salt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXFRWn185I/AAAAAAAABZk/ZURNsQQ7qn4/s1600-h/267.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXFRWn185I/AAAAAAAABZk/ZURNsQQ7qn4/s320/267.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378922231885067154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, so our tickets were smack in the center of a row that was otherwise full. Now, as a fat person, this is a nightmare. You have to make everyone stand to let you by and if they don't stand, then you have to maneuver your fat knees past their knees and did I mention steepness? And big fat butt in their faces? Uh uh. Not gonna happen. I was begging the children to just please sit down anywhere, please oh please! So, since we were in the nosebleed giveaway section, there were a ton of empty seats so we picked a row and sat. Thank goodness because my jelly knees? Totally melting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Approximately one minute later, the show started. Stupid debit cards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yay! American Idols Live!! Starting with #10, Michael Sarver. He started with "I'm In Love With A Girl." He was GREAT! I liked him on the show, but he is so much better live! He worked the stage and crowd. His 2nd song was "Closer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXIJ_F1BDI/AAAAAAAABZs/D7XPQqPDVg0/s1600-h/273.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXIJ_F1BDI/AAAAAAAABZs/D7XPQqPDVg0/s320/273.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378925403844183090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan was next and she looked gorgeous! Her hair is a lot shorter than it was and she wore the tight pink dress she's worn during the whole tour. The hooker heels may not be the best idea as she almost fell more than once but she joked about it after her first song, "Put Your Records On." Megan sounded fabulous! She has improved so much since the show! I didn't know her second song but it was fun and her personality shows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXKMiq5ctI/AAAAAAAABZ0/eDZjvz25qao/s1600-h/278.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXKMiq5ctI/AAAAAAAABZ0/eDZjvz25qao/s320/278.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378927646777897682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scott was up next and he came up through the stage with a piano.  They've tamed his hair somewhat, but you can see his hair halo in this photo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXLTwOXBuI/AAAAAAAABZ8/_elr9NjrZnI/s1600-h/284.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXLTwOXBuI/AAAAAAAABZ8/_elr9NjrZnI/s320/284.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378928870187009762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I wasn't a big fan of Scott on the show, but he was really good in concert. he's improved greatly and I enjoyed him. He made some cute jokes about the 'high five heard round the world' and that was funny. I feel kind of bad because right now, I can't remember Scott's songs, but really, he was good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next up was Lil. WOW! She put on a show! She sounded quite hoarse, but it worked. I wasn't a Lil fan on the show, but I'm telling you, in concert, she is fabulous!  She dances and sings her butt off. (and baby DO got back!) "Single Ladies" was crazy fun and she even did some of the Beyonce dance moves. Great! Lil also looked very pretty with long hair and a great outfit. The whole package. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXQCW1f_bI/AAAAAAAABaE/M5upDJ0eAUc/s1600-h/292.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXQCW1f_bI/AAAAAAAABaE/M5upDJ0eAUc/s320/292.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378934068872215986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for Noop Dawg. He started with a slow song and I hate that. I say start upbeat then slow it down, but what do I know? He was in his typical sweater vest/tie combo and his voice was nice, but he kinda bored me. Even when he sang "My Prerogative." I guess I don't 'believe' him as a performer or some goofy thing like that. Oh well. I don't have anything bad to say, really. Good job, Anoop. (Jameson wanted him to sing, "Beat It.")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXRNW0G2tI/AAAAAAAABaM/lxxwQSETvl0/s1600-h/302.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXRNW0G2tI/AAAAAAAABaM/lxxwQSETvl0/s320/302.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378935357356563154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt Giraud. Matt. Giraud. Matt freakin' Giraud!  WOW!!! LOVE!!! He came out singing "Hard To Handle" and it was THE song of the night for me! He commanded that stage, captivated the audience, (well, me, anyway) and brought the house down!! I would watch an entire Matt concert ANY time! He slowed it down with "Georgia" which was so smooth and gorgeous and then sang, "You Found Me" which started...off..and then he pulled it together about :45 in. Not sure if he couldn't hear his monitor or what. I so hope he puts out an album because I am SO there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXS67qcYXI/AAAAAAAABaU/xBnfHmPyAyk/s1600-h/306.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXS67qcYXI/AAAAAAAABaU/xBnfHmPyAyk/s320/306.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378937239853883762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The group song consisting of #10-5 singing was really fun. They were all dressed in black and there was dueling pianos with Scott and Matt which was awesome and even some motown-ish dancing at the end. Loved it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXT010E-II/AAAAAAAABac/XxTioGal6fE/s1600-h/325.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXT010E-II/AAAAAAAABac/XxTioGal6fE/s320/325.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378938234716092546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXUF6CpcuI/AAAAAAAABak/B75SMxF-WQ4/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXUF6CpcuI/AAAAAAAABak/B75SMxF-WQ4/s320/004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378938527908721378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After intermission, and some cotton candy, it was time for Allison. She started with "So What" and I hated it. I can't stand the song, anyway, but Allison didn't sound very good. Also, her mic was too loud. She dropped words and syllables all over the place and that drove me crazy. Even Braelyn commented. "She keeps not saying all the words, Mom." Allison also kind of just runs all over the stage willy nilly. It was just odd to me. Now when she did "Cry Baby" it was MUCH better. Her mic was still bad, but I enjoyed it so much more. "Barracuda" was OK. Just not into Allison in concert, I guess. I wanted to love her a lot but didn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXVhV858-I/AAAAAAAABas/F7O0jBq4TRs/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXVhV858-I/AAAAAAAABas/F7O0jBq4TRs/s320/013.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378940098768925666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel J. Gokey!! LOVE!! Peeee Whyyyyyy Teeeee...I WANT TO LOVE YOU!! Not as growly as on the show, but WOW! He was awesome! I love his "Maria Maria" and his dancing was so fun!! And, whoa! Where did those guns come from?? HOT! "What Hurts the Most" was gorgeous! I've read comments on some other blogs about Danny's 'sermon' before "My Wish For You" and those haters can go suck a lollipop. Danny's comments were nice and heartfelt and a fitting set up for the song. Fantastic Danny set!!! (Boy looks so good in red!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXXVwG_hfI/AAAAAAAABa0/uSZhH4TLKYA/s1600-h/021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXXVwG_hfI/AAAAAAAABa0/uSZhH4TLKYA/s320/021.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378942098655380978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, yes. I knew this moment would come. The Adam set. He slaughtered Zeppelin. And I don't mean that in a good way. It was truly painful. The amount of screeching and weird gyrating was truly awful. Jameson kept yelling for me to cover my ears and Braelyn's face was priceless. I wish I'd gotten a picture.  Braelyn said, and I quote, "Those are girl moves!" Indeed, sister.  Not watching the big screens made the Adam set much more tolerable. The Muse song he did was decent, but wow, he sounded like a woman. I don't necessarily mean that in a bad way, but I did look up to see if the backup singer had started the song and Adam was going to join in at some point. Mad World was good, but Brianna and I spent the entire song giving Pauler commentary about the 'depth of his emotions' and fake crying. Hey, we were up high with people who didn't care. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't forget the Adam and Allison duet. My lord, their mics were still too loud, but it was pretty good. I thought it was better on the show, though. And then Adam had a...what's that?...a WHIP!  A whip with a pink feather on the end. I kid you not. It may or may not have come from the audience, but seriously, a whip?? (upon reading other recaps of shows, I find it did come from the audience. Crazies.) And I am pretty sure he smacked Allison's butt with it. Hmm..inappropriate much??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXbWAeoDuI/AAAAAAAABa8/pNGW7kYAOSU/s1600-h/033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXbWAeoDuI/AAAAAAAABa8/pNGW7kYAOSU/s320/033.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378946501095984866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crotch shots and additional over-gyrating which was displayed on the big screen was too much during his Bowie medley and I felt like I should be covering my kids' eyes. Blech. Also, the screech with tongue. I caught it on the big screen. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then...Brianna went to the bathroom!! ha ha ha ha... High five, girl! She didn't want to miss Kris singing, "Heartless."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay! It was finally time for Kris!!  He opened with "Heartless" which I love! "Ain't No Sunshine" was awesome. The song I don't know was great but the Kris highlight for me was, "Bright Lights!!!!" WOW!!! LOVE!!!! "Hey Jude" was great, as well. Kris has an amazing voice and he really put on a great set. There was no loss of concert energy for me, even though many have reported it as such. Indy loved Kris! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXdxVsxNEI/AAAAAAAABbE/jVJX9ST56Aw/s1600-h/042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXdxVsxNEI/AAAAAAAABbE/jVJX9ST56Aw/s320/042.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378949169672172610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The group finale of "Don't Stop Believin'" was last but not least and was a really great end to the show! The only thing that would have made it better would have been if they had sang it like they did on "Glee."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXeurw-zaI/AAAAAAAABbM/vVDGx6Li8w8/s1600-h/049.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqXeurw-zaI/AAAAAAAABbM/vVDGx6Li8w8/s320/049.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378950223567441314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Lil's wearing a Colt's jersey!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should mention here that ANOTHER whip/flogger made it into Adam's hands during the finale and I just tried not to look at it. He threw it back into the audience at the end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so ends my Idol experience for 2009. I managed to descend the stairs without falling to my death because of the steepness and we made it home all in one piece. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care what any of the Idol naysayers say, an Idol concert is an experience. They always put on a great show with great music. I hope I have the opportunity to go again before the show ends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was definitely an awesome night thanks to my agile dialing fingers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I do not care what the real Zeppelin sounds like. I do not care if Robert Plant screeched and gyrated his way through every song. I was not reviewing a Led Zeppelin show. I also don't care who else in the music industry had diction problems. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P.S. The above P.S. was not meant for you or you or you. Just a chosen few who want to bring certain things up when other things are mentioned. Yeah, that was vague. Sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-6869559440492538748?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/6869559440492538748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=6869559440492538748&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6869559440492538748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6869559440492538748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/09/facebook-status-updates-killed-my-blog.html' title='Facebook Status Updates Killed My Blog!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SqW00cst65I/AAAAAAAABZM/IamMlMgTjDk/s72-c/260.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-3216295790802334126</id><published>2009-08-01T15:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T15:56:03.736-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Reunion</title><content type='html'>I am currently in preparations for my 20th high school reunion. It starts at 7. I am in near panic mode. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as I can meet up with these girls (and a few others), I'm good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SnSdp1axy3I/AAAAAAAABZE/KK0q-oXgb14/s1600-h/zzzgrad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SnSdp1axy3I/AAAAAAAABZE/KK0q-oXgb14/s320/zzzgrad.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365086398144695154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-3216295790802334126?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/3216295790802334126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=3216295790802334126&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/3216295790802334126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/3216295790802334126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/08/reunion.html' title='Reunion'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SnSdp1axy3I/AAAAAAAABZE/KK0q-oXgb14/s72-c/zzzgrad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-1483160635985805181</id><published>2009-06-20T09:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T10:03:21.941-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The leg bone's connected to the...stomach?</title><content type='html'>The dog. He ate a chicken leg last night. Whole. Without chewing. In one swallow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I foresee cleaning up chicken bone dog puke in the near future. Or an expensive vet visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I didn't get a photo at the time, (the incident went down in approximately 2.1 seconds) I'll go ahead and share a photo of doggie cuteness from another time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/Sjzrz4a8KRI/AAAAAAAABY0/iRJJWX-h_io/s1600-h/lapdog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/Sjzrz4a8KRI/AAAAAAAABY0/iRJJWX-h_io/s320/lapdog.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349409733960542482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;He thinks he's a lap dog. Also, this is in the 'man cave.'&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-1483160635985805181?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/1483160635985805181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=1483160635985805181&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1483160635985805181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1483160635985805181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/06/leg-bones-connected-to-thestomach.html' title='The leg bone&apos;s connected to the...stomach?'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/Sjzrz4a8KRI/AAAAAAAABY0/iRJJWX-h_io/s72-c/lapdog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-840532744612708072</id><published>2009-06-19T20:47:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T01:02:27.236-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Alive!! ALIIIVE!!</title><content type='html'>Whoa. My blog has become an abysmal land of awful nothingness!! I'm needin' to change that! I'm hoping to get a blog make-over sometime soon to help me get back in the groove of writing more often. (If anyone out there wants to offer their assistance for a small-ish fee, let me know!) So very much has happened in the last few months and I haven't documented any of it. I feel guilty and sad and I hope to not let it happen again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things which have happened in the last few months~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;My baby finally learned to tie his dang shoes, ride his bike without training wheels, and finished kindergarten. He still cannot recite his phone number. Not sure how we're going to make THAT information stick to his brain.  (Jameson: Um...2? Ummmm...8? 5? 7?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My oldest baby turned 18,  graduated as valedictorian of her class, is headed to college and suddenly is no longer a child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The middle baby finished 2nd grade with all A's and hit no other major milestones, really, but she may have puked a few times in the past few months. She IS the family puker.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My 20 year reunion continues to loom in the not too distant future. I haven't lost a pound. Whatever. Panic attack, here I come!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Work is/has been stressful. I don't really want to talk about it. However, I am thankful to have my job. You know, I have to throw that in there lest I be perceived as an ungrateful B who doesn't deserve a job when so many others have lost theirs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We had a big graduation party for Brianna in May and I survived being around all those people without curling up in the fetal position in the corner. My back, however, decided to 'go out' by the end of the night and I could barely walk. That was fun! Also, Bubba and I had to stand at graduation so everyone could see the parents of the valedictorian. Imagine how fun that was for me. An entire auditorium staring at me. I have chosen to burn it from my memory. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Without getting into specifics, my mom had some issues with her health, was hospitalized, went to a nursing home for some rehab, is now home and is better than she's been in at least 5 years!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;I suppose those are the major points from the last few months. Otherwise, life is the same old thing. Sleep, work, eat, rinse and repeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I'm sitting here trying to think of what's been going on as of late, I'm listening to the new Rob Thomas CD. It's not out yet, but via &lt;a href="http://www.vh1.com/artists/az/thomas_rob/2435091/album.jhtml?source=mp_carousel&amp;amp;source=mp_carousel"&gt;vh1.com and Rhapsody&lt;/a&gt;, you can listen before it's released.  I am loving it. A lot. Rob Thomas continues to be one of my all-time favorites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that's a brief update of life in our house. I'll leave you with a few photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SjxfYioB3YI/AAAAAAAABX0/NP43GMNdTbo/s1600-h/IMG_6003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SjxfYioB3YI/AAAAAAAABX0/NP43GMNdTbo/s320/IMG_6003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349255332625505666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Turning 6&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SjxizRGAJBI/AAAAAAAABX8/7lGBK0KrmDw/s1600-h/IMG_6267.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SjxizRGAJBI/AAAAAAAABX8/7lGBK0KrmDw/s320/IMG_6267.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349259090310734866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Fun at the Children's Museum&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SjxlGwiTtMI/AAAAAAAABYE/jPY2RNx5F2Q/s1600-h/IMG_6428.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SjxlGwiTtMI/AAAAAAAABYE/jPY2RNx5F2Q/s320/IMG_6428.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349261624191726786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Safari Dudes at the zoo&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SjxoZ6sHwnI/AAAAAAAABYM/DSHH16qGbDM/s1600-h/IMG_6525.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SjxoZ6sHwnI/AAAAAAAABYM/DSHH16qGbDM/s320/IMG_6525.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349265251869639282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Prom Time&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/Sjxp7X3L7dI/AAAAAAAABYU/59UCHe3SlMw/s1600-h/IMG_6644.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 282px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/Sjxp7X3L7dI/AAAAAAAABYU/59UCHe3SlMw/s320/IMG_6644.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349266926147988946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Graduation Party--AFTER the kids changed into play clothes&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SjxrCCFnzOI/AAAAAAAABYc/L_hgfgXopw4/s1600-h/IMG_6811.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SjxrCCFnzOI/AAAAAAAABYc/L_hgfgXopw4/s320/IMG_6811.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349268140073667810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Grad speech&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SjxsNOb3veI/AAAAAAAABYk/x4a34Y5oROs/s1600-h/IMG_6853.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SjxsNOb3veI/AAAAAAAABYk/x4a34Y5oROs/s320/IMG_6853.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349269431878401506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Happy Grad&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SjxsoGJyScI/AAAAAAAABYs/jrkLYAwBWkU/s1600-h/IMG_6895.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 258px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SjxsoGJyScI/AAAAAAAABYs/jrkLYAwBWkU/s320/IMG_6895.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349269893511530946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Dog In Trouble&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-840532744612708072?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/840532744612708072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=840532744612708072&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/840532744612708072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/840532744612708072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-alive-aliiive.html' title='It&apos;s Alive!! ALIIIVE!!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SjxfYioB3YI/AAAAAAAABX0/NP43GMNdTbo/s72-c/IMG_6003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-5643883351252412037</id><published>2009-05-05T19:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T21:52:35.728-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 4 --Rock week</title><content type='html'>THIS...is American Idol! Well, it's rock week so that pretty much means that it won't rock very much. But, maybe I will be surprised. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan explains that there were some accidents just before dress rehearsal so the Idols didn't get to practice tonight. Also, there will be duets sung tonight which I predict will be perfect train wreck material. Slash is the mentor this week. I'm not really looking forward to that. Not that I don't like him, but, I'm just not interested in what he has to say. That sounds kind of mean, but whatever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam--"Whole Lot of Love" by Led Zeppelin..is that right? I never can get that spelled right. Do I even NEED to say that I hated...nay...LOATHED it?? No?  OK. 6 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allison-- "Cry Baby" by Janis Joplin. She was good. I don't think it was her best ever. I do like her hair tonight. 8 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st duet of the night is Danny and Kris. "Renegade" LOVE! That was fun! I think they could do a lot of songs together and sound even better! I loved Danny in that red shirt! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kris--"Come Together" Loved it! The judges went out of their way to pick it apart..but it was REALLY good!!  He's adorable, too. Love Kris!  8 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danny--"Dream On" Loved it until he screamed the last note! Bad song choice for that note alone. He looks great in purple, too!  8 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allison and Adam--"Slow Ride" I liked Allison. "Nuff said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-5643883351252412037?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/5643883351252412037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=5643883351252412037&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5643883351252412037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5643883351252412037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/05/top-4-rock-week.html' title='Top 4 --Rock week'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-1938196261919219229</id><published>2009-04-28T20:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T21:29:16.539-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='american idol'/><title type='text'>Top 5 get jazzy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SfetZTkWUqI/AAAAAAAABXs/T28w7PkKld0/s1600-h/zzztop5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SfetZTkWUqI/AAAAAAAABXs/T28w7PkKld0/s200/zzztop5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329919334277337762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight with Jamie Foxx (ick) mentoring, the idols sing jazz standards from the Rat Pack. They look great...at least Kris, Danny, Matt and Allison look great. I am pretty indifferent to Adam. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pauler is wearing one of those napkin dresses but hers has a great big napkin over each boob. Interesting. But she always looks pretty. CAR-uh has some little tank top on which looks displaced next to Pauler's frou frou dress. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jamie Foxx as the mentor is just why-inducing for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kris Allen is up first looking all cute as a button. He's singing "The Way You Look Tonight." I LOVE this song so much! Kris does a great job with it as I knew he would! It's not boring in the least. It's simple then picks up a bit and I love it. Randy says it was his best so far, which I wouldn't really agree with. The girl judges loved it and Simon didn't think it was incredible, just good. Loved the song and love Kris. 8 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allison is the 2nd to sing with "Someone To Watch Over Me." She looks really pretty tonight and just turned 17 yesterday. Love her dress.  Parts of the performance I loved and parts I didn't love so much. She slows it down nicely for sure. However, sometimes, I just can't stand how she puts that H sound in front of her words like she is forcing the sound out. &lt;br /&gt;"SomeHhone to Hhwatch Hhover me..." Great job, though, Allison! 9 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt's in the middle singing "My Funny Valentine." Matt looks great in his suit and hat! Oh my gosh..LOVE! From the first note. LOVE. I absolutely loved it a lot. I don't care what the judges said. 8 1/2 of 10 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danny's 4th singing, "Come Rain or Come Shine." He looks great in his suit like Kris and Matt and he's wearing his glasses which I think he looks better with than without. OMG. AWESOME. LOVE. LOVE.  9 3/4 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam is last singing "Feeling Good." Eh. The beginning was kind of OK. But I am just not a fan. 7 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My number one tonight is Danny! Followed by Matt, Allison, Kris and Adam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't mind Adam leaving though I know he won't. So, I can't make a prediction as I love the other 4. Tomorrow will be sad. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a GREAT night. I am so glad the themes are working well this year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-1938196261919219229?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/1938196261919219229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=1938196261919219229&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1938196261919219229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1938196261919219229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/04/top-5-get-jazzy.html' title='Top 5 get jazzy'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SfetZTkWUqI/AAAAAAAABXs/T28w7PkKld0/s72-c/zzztop5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-5524764223806008630</id><published>2009-04-26T14:21:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T17:51:37.802-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jameson'/><title type='text'>Jameson: The Bounty Hunter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SfSqOUIcAiI/AAAAAAAABXM/gP4ZCa33_D0/s1600-h/zzzdog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SfSqOUIcAiI/AAAAAAAABXM/gP4ZCa33_D0/s320/zzzdog.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329071421985128994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son's favorite TV show is Dog: The Bounty Hunter. He will sit rapt for a half hour and he often talks to the people on the TV. (Like mother like son?) Not long ago he warned one of the hunted that Dog might spray him with his "hot sauce!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best thing was when he asked Bubba why Dog gets bleeped so much since he prays all the time.  Kids notice everything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jameson now wants to grow his hair and get it cut like Leland, Dog's son. In case you don't know, this is Leland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SfTXUXsVNKI/AAAAAAAABXk/rmND-LcUqvg/s1600-h/zzzleland.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SfTXUXsVNKI/AAAAAAAABXk/rmND-LcUqvg/s200/zzzleland.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329121004043449506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because you can't get the full effect with that photo, take a look at this video. You only need to watch about 20 seconds worth to get the impact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AQNozd-r1-o&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AQNozd-r1-o&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you imagine that hair on this boy??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SfTW_N9bC7I/AAAAAAAABXc/wQpLkUwfTfA/s1600-h/IMG_6187.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SfTW_N9bC7I/AAAAAAAABXc/wQpLkUwfTfA/s320/IMG_6187.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329120640653527986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a big NO, son.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-5524764223806008630?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/5524764223806008630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=5524764223806008630&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5524764223806008630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5524764223806008630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/04/jameson-bounty-hunter.html' title='Jameson: The Bounty Hunter'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SfSqOUIcAiI/AAAAAAAABXM/gP4ZCa33_D0/s72-c/zzzdog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-3145469988743124887</id><published>2009-04-21T19:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T21:55:50.650-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 7...Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/Se5yAlMuXKI/AAAAAAAABXE/dLWLxEs_d5g/s1600-h/zzztop7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/Se5yAlMuXKI/AAAAAAAABXE/dLWLxEs_d5g/s320/zzztop7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327320763536923810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the judges used their save last week on Matt Giraud, we're back this week to watch the top 7, again! This week, two people will go home. Bummer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, Ryan didn't mess around...Lil stayed on stage and she's singing already!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lil "I'm Every Woman" Eh. I'm just not a Lil fan. 7 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kris "She Works Hard For The Money" AWESOME! 9 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danny "September" LOVE! 9 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allison "Hot Stuff" Not my favorite of hers but still good. 8 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam "If I Can't Have You"  Nuh uh. Just because he made a "cry" face through the whole song does NOT mean he "feels it." Gag me. Pauler was insane. He's not brilliant. He can sing. Then he screeches. High pitched screeching is NOT singing OR amazing range. 7 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt "Staying Alive"  I loved it! One of his high notes was off, but man it was fun and I would listen to him after the show. 8 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anoop "Dim All The Lights" It was ok. 7 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Top 3: Danny, Kris and Matt&lt;br /&gt;Bottom 3: Lil, Anoop and Adam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope Lil goes home and suspect Matt will go with her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-3145469988743124887?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/3145469988743124887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=3145469988743124887&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/3145469988743124887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/3145469988743124887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/04/top-7again.html' title='Top 7...Again'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/Se5yAlMuXKI/AAAAAAAABXE/dLWLxEs_d5g/s72-c/zzztop7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-6807205326562560442</id><published>2009-04-14T20:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T21:42:59.553-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 7</title><content type='html'>Quentin Tarantino was the "mentor" tonight and I found him pointless. I didn't like the song choices tonight, save for Kris. I love that song!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allison--"I Don't Want To Miss A Thing" Very breathy. Not my favorite of Allison so far, but I would guess it will be a good studio version. Simon called her staying to the end so if she's in the bottom, he will save her. 6 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anoop--"Everything I Do I Do For You."He tried to change it a little bit. I don't know, I wasn't that into it. However, it was pleasant. 7 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam--"Born TO Be Wild" SCREEEEEECH!!!!  SCREEEEEEAAMMMM!! TONGUE!! But the first part was OK. 6 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt--he hit a few clunker high notes, but I just love Matt. I'd listen to him over Adam ANY time, ANY where. 7 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danny--LOVE. I was a little leery of the song but I loved that. It was nice and pretty. 8 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kris--Love! 8 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lil--No. And if you're going to talk back to Simon, please make a valid point. So, you like to sing R&amp;B and gospel....then don't choose a Bette Midler song like The Rose. 5 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, underwhelming. My top 2 are Danny and Kris. &lt;br /&gt;I hope Lil goes home.&lt;br /&gt;That's all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-6807205326562560442?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/6807205326562560442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=6807205326562560442&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6807205326562560442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6807205326562560442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/04/top-7.html' title='Top 7'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-2795436898520832304</id><published>2009-04-13T18:04:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T18:06:14.852-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='white house'/><title type='text'>Bo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SeO3GJKFotI/AAAAAAAABW8/jjnmmUpO_A4/s1600-h/boobama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SeO3GJKFotI/AAAAAAAABW8/jjnmmUpO_A4/s320/boobama.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324300500647387858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; What a cutie! This is the new White House dog. His name is Bo. Bo Obama. Boobama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had to be said. I couldn't help it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-2795436898520832304?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/2795436898520832304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=2795436898520832304&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2795436898520832304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2795436898520832304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/04/bo.html' title='Bo'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SeO3GJKFotI/AAAAAAAABW8/jjnmmUpO_A4/s72-c/boobama.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-5132773039157834733</id><published>2009-04-07T20:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T22:43:21.380-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Short and sweet and to the point</title><content type='html'>Tonight's theme is songs from their birth years. This is usually one of the themes I actually like. Imagine that. Anyway, short and sweet tonight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danny-- "Stand By Me"  YAY! I loved it! He looks great in purple! Sounded great! Woo hoo! NOT cocky at all.  9 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kris-- "All She Wants To Do Is Dance" He changed it up..it was upbeat and fun! Loved it! 8 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lil-- "What's Love Got to Do With It" Not a fan. 6 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anoop-- "True Colors"  Someone at the shoutbox said, "exceedingly meh." I agree. 6 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scott-- "The Search Is Over" Oh, poor Scott. Not good. 5 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allison-- "I Can't Make You Love Me" I didn't NOT like it. I just found it hard to love. What? I don't know. 7 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt-- "Part Time Lover" AWESOME! 9 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam-- "Mad World"  It was ok. I'm just not a fan. I can't really explain it. At least he didn't screech. 7 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Top 3: Danny, Matt, Kris&lt;br /&gt;My bottom 3: Scott, Lil and Anoop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scott or Kris will go home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday, I will actually start blogging again. Oh, how about this? My dog got a whack job at the groomer today. It's totally a WTH kind of thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, until next time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-5132773039157834733?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/5132773039157834733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=5132773039157834733&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5132773039157834733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5132773039157834733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/04/short-and-sweet-and-to-point.html' title='Short and sweet and to the point'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-3208932982840059755</id><published>2009-03-31T19:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T23:52:41.700-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Where are we now? Top 9, I think.</title><content type='html'>My Idol thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anoop "Caught Up." What the H was that?? I hated every second of it. 5 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan "Turn Your Lights Down Low"  Not a great song choice. I liked it yet I didn't. 5 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danny "What Hurts the Most"  The only down thing I can say is, I hate Rascal Flatts more than just about any other band out there. Can't stand them. However, Danny did a great job tonight. Love his voice and personality! 8 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allison "Don't Speak" She looked cute and sounded pretty good. 7 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scott "Just The Way You Are" His best yet. It was very nice. 7 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt "You Found Me"  I love Matt's voice. This was an odd performance but not horrible. 7 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lil "I Surrender"  Not so much. 6 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loathbert "Play That Funky Music"  blah blah blah...SCREEEEEEEAM SCREEEECH. 3 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kris "Ain't No sunshine"  Wonderful. Beautiful. Excellent!! 9 1/2 of 10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-3208932982840059755?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/3208932982840059755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=3208932982840059755&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/3208932982840059755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/3208932982840059755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/03/where-are-we-now-top-9-i-think.html' title='Where are we now? Top 9, I think.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-604424410182026374</id><published>2009-03-25T20:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T23:59:33.319-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Motown night</title><content type='html'>All the judges look better than any other week. The girls aren't overly made up and Simon isn't in a cheap looking tshirt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the Idols look pretty great as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Footage of the kids visiting Detroit with Smokey Robinson and Barry Gordy. Cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Matt&lt;/span&gt; "Let's Get It On."  AWESOME! Started behind the piano then worked the stage. GREAT job!! His falsetto is wonderful. He kicked it! 9 of 10!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Kris&lt;/span&gt; "How Sweet It Is."  Woo hoo! Played the guitar and I loved it! He's adorable and he picked a great song. 8 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Scott&lt;/span&gt; "You Can't Hurry Love." I didn't like it much. I was afraid he was going to slow it way down during the whole song. He started it sooo slowly, but sped it up to make it kind of fun. He's SUCH a sweet guy and can play the piano, but I didn't care for this song from Scott.  6 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Megan&lt;/span&gt; "For Once In My Life." I actually think this was a good song choice, even if the judges hated it. I didn't like the backup singers AT ALL. I liked the jazzy take on it. She looked beautiful. 7 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Anoop &lt;/span&gt;"Ooh Baby Baby"  Snoozefest. It was OK. 6 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Michael &lt;/span&gt; "Ain't Too Proud To Beg"  Band was too loud. The song was OK, but not Michael's best yet. 6 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Lil&lt;/span&gt; "Heat Wave" Kinda shouty and a few off notes. Lil can sing, for sure, but I didn't like this that much. 7 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Adam&lt;/span&gt; "Tracks of My Tears" NOT loving his look...slicked back hair. I didn't love it, nor did I hate it. He didn't scream or screech so I was happy with that. 7 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Danny&lt;/span&gt; "Get Ready"  LOVED it. 9 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Allison&lt;/span&gt; "Papa Was A Rolling Stone" I love this girl! She did a great job! 8 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bottom 3: Scott, Michael, Anoop&lt;br /&gt;My top 4: Danny, Matt, Kris and Allison&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could my assessments get any more boring this year??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-604424410182026374?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/604424410182026374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=604424410182026374&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/604424410182026374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/604424410182026374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/03/motown-night.html' title='Motown night'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-4351562433878898124</id><published>2009-03-17T19:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T22:08:21.776-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 11 do it Opry style</title><content type='html'>Ryan wishes everyone a Happy St. Patrick's Day and says maybe after a few pints this show would be really fun. lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Michael&lt;/span&gt;  "Ain't Goin Down Til the Sun Comes Up."  Wow...quite the undertaking. That is a FAST song! He spends the entire song sounding out of breath. But, he's not doing a bad job. It just doesn't show his vocals, which he does have. 6 of 10  (He sassed back to Simon. He broke my number one rule! I would never vote for him.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Allison&lt;/span&gt; "Blame It On Your Heart."  A great performance! She is great on stage and her voice sounded less strained this week. She got a little out of breath a time or two, but otherwise, a good showing. 8 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Kris &lt;/span&gt; To Make You Feel My Love  VERY pretty. I loved it. For some reason, even though it was slow, it wasn't boring. 8 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Lil&lt;/span&gt; "Independence Day."  Big song! Not loving the verses, but she picks it up with the chorus. Definitely not as good as I thought she would do. 7 of 10 (Sass back. Stop it! Plus, Simon kept calling her Little instead of Lil. Dork!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Loathbert&lt;/span&gt; Ew. 5 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Scott&lt;/span&gt; "Wild Angels."  I liked it better than last week. But I am still not a big fan of Scott. 7 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Alexis&lt;/span&gt; "Jolene." I love her voice, but this version was not my favorite. Still, I give her 8 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Danny&lt;/span&gt; "Jesus Take the Wheel." After the first part of the verse, Danny hit it! I loved the 2nd half. 8 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Anoop&lt;/span&gt; "Always On My Mind." He finally showcased his voice. 8 of 10&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Megan&lt;/span&gt; "Walking After Midnight." Oh, I liked that! I just love Megan's voice. And she looked really pretty. 7 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Matt&lt;/span&gt; "So Small."  Awesome! I love Matt and his piano playing self! 8 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I was a little scared going in to Opry night, but overall, I liked it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bottom 3 would be: Adam, Michael and I guess, Lil. I think Michael will go home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-4351562433878898124?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/4351562433878898124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=4351562433878898124&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4351562433878898124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4351562433878898124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/03/top-11-do-it-opry-style.html' title='Top 11 do it Opry style'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-1999181112048178596</id><published>2009-03-10T19:57:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T01:52:10.776-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 13 Perform</title><content type='html'>My Idol thoughts...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big announcer guy calls the judges one by one..they appear from the stage complete with back lighting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan is back in an ill-fitting suit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan chats up the judges...Simon announces double elim tomorrow. Cue the Michael Jackson montage as the Idols will sing Michael's songs tonight.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lil&lt;/span&gt; sings "The Way you make me feel"  Baby got back, that's for sure. I was quite bored. She didn't do much for me, but then I'm not a huge Lil fan. She CAN sing. I'm just not into it. 7 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Scott&lt;/span&gt; sings "Keep the Faith"  I don't like his pouffy hair. (Art Garfunkel, thanks for that, Joyce.) He's playing the piano which I love. I don't know the song, but he did an OK job. 7 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Danny&lt;/span&gt; sings "PYT"  His high register is very nice. He starts slow, making me nervous. Then breaks out and I love him even more than before is that is possible!  Sounded awesome!!! Why were the judges so hard on the dancing. I've seen MUCH worse in previous years. Oh well. I loved every second of it!  9 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Michael&lt;/span&gt; sings "You Are Not Alone."  I was a little worried about Michael, but this was really nice, sweet and soft. He has a great voice. I liked him a lot even if the song was a tad boring. 7 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jasmine&lt;/span&gt; sings "I'll be there."  Nothing extra special, but not bad. 6 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kris Allen&lt;/span&gt; sings "Remember the Time." Kris plays his guitar. Yay! He is just as cute as can be! Great song for his voice! 7 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Allison &lt;/span&gt;sings "Give In to Me."  I don't think I know this song. I don't like her as much as I did last time. She is good but it hurts me when she sings because it sounds like she is straining so much. 7 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Anoop&lt;/span&gt; sings "Beat It"  Didn't like it. He cracked his way through that. He is fun on stage, but no. 5 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jorge&lt;/span&gt; sings "Never Can Say Goodbye." Eh...not so much. 5 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Megan &lt;/span&gt;sings "Rockin Robin."  Love this girl! There is just something about her voice. Fun performance. Love her voice!!  8 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Loathbert&lt;/span&gt; sings "Black or White." Um, ick. 5 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Matt&lt;/span&gt; sings "Human Nature"  Love Matt and his piano. He hits some great high notes. 8 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Alexis&lt;/span&gt; sings "Dirty Diana"  She is just fun and I love her voice. 8 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, it was a fun night. I was pretty generous with my scores. Must be because I am in a good mood! :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MY bottom 3: Adam, Jorge, Anoop&lt;br /&gt;Who will probably go home: Jorge and Allison or Jasmine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, I had to post this video, too. This is part of my Idol interview with my kids tonight. I post this one because it talks about Loathbert. It also cuts off in a weird place because my memory card ran out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-de14aca1d37f2727" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v11.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dde14aca1d37f2727%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330211109%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D325CD7039BBCE62A8904E9048B8D1A86466B87.18B88EBF94B2C6D2D5D5E2493A39C1C90CDB96D6%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dde14aca1d37f2727%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DfEeQGD-tqbv_j-uVY5Dw-ii9Pog&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v11.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dde14aca1d37f2727%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330211109%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D325CD7039BBCE62A8904E9048B8D1A86466B87.18B88EBF94B2C6D2D5D5E2493A39C1C90CDB96D6%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dde14aca1d37f2727%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DfEeQGD-tqbv_j-uVY5Dw-ii9Pog&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-1999181112048178596?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=de14aca1d37f2727&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/1999181112048178596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=1999181112048178596&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1999181112048178596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1999181112048178596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/03/top-13-perform.html' title='Top 13 Perform'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-2187676158353463762</id><published>2009-03-09T20:27:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T20:48:22.365-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I knew there was a reason why I don't like Pepsi.</title><content type='html'>This??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbW0Wnto0zI/AAAAAAAABWk/Qb3LxOhIDuk/s1600-h/IMG_5630.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbW0Wnto0zI/AAAAAAAABWk/Qb3LxOhIDuk/s320/IMG_5630.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311349636263891762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is much too...similar...to this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbW16fy1AEI/AAAAAAAABWs/qlZEMHM1ELM/s1600-h/obamalogo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbW16fy1AEI/AAAAAAAABWs/qlZEMHM1ELM/s320/obamalogo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311351352125096002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What? You don't see it? Just turn it upside down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbW4od0gNII/AAAAAAAABW0/n_Nuh8rLT3w/s1600-h/pepsiO.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 305px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbW4od0gNII/AAAAAAAABW0/n_Nuh8rLT3w/s320/pepsiO.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311354340892488834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skurry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-2187676158353463762?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/2187676158353463762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=2187676158353463762&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2187676158353463762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2187676158353463762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-knew-there-was-reason-why-i-dont-like.html' title='I knew there was a reason why I don&apos;t like Pepsi.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbW0Wnto0zI/AAAAAAAABWk/Qb3LxOhIDuk/s72-c/IMG_5630.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-1717420852941021401</id><published>2009-03-08T18:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T21:20:57.432-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wiggums'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog'/><title type='text'>Introducing Mr. Wiggums Von Beauregard</title><content type='html'>Almost 3 weeks later and I'm finally getting around to introducing you all to our new family member. This one I didn't have to give birth to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet Mr. Wiggums Von Beauregard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbRFQvKTVxI/AAAAAAAABVs/RNC8tFWMCPA/s1600-h/wiggums.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbRFQvKTVxI/AAAAAAAABVs/RNC8tFWMCPA/s320/wiggums.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310946014416557842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've plunged back into the world of pet ownership. It's been about 5 1/2 or 6 years since we had a dog and I was really itching to get one. So, 3 weeks ago today, actually, I started looking online for a dog. Our local animal shelter didn't have any photos listed but our local ARF had some dogs listed online. I saw that face and had to have him! He was already named Wiggums and was listed as possibly being a mix of American Bulldog and German Wire-haired pointer. Or something like that. I knew we needed a sturdy dog because, let's face it, our children are both clumsy and rough. A little bitty yapper dog wouldn't do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kept pulling his picture up and showing Bubba and the kids. I emailed it to Bubba. I &lt;s&gt;begged &lt;/s&gt;hinted. The next day, Monday, I texted Bubba. He'd already checked into it and ARF did not adopt on Mondays but he got an appointment at 1pm the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By about 1:15 the next day, we had our dog! He was $95. (Thank you tax check! Hello, more economy stim!) I didn't have any problem paying that since ARF is a good cause and also it's better than paying hundreds for a breed dog. I have nothing at all against breed dogs. I just can't afford one, that's all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubba spent an additional $40 getting his car unlocked since he left his keys in the car then headed over to the school to pick up the kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wiggums promptly barfed in the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dog food, dog bowls, dog toys, dog leashes, dog brushes = even more economy stimulation. (What recession?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wiggums pluses:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Housetrained. Yay! No running around cleaning up piles and puddles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Doesn't beg (too much) while we are eating.  He'll watch us cook. He'll stand right in the way. When we sit to eat, he sniffs. His head is as tall as our kitchen table so he could grab and run if he so chose. But, once we tell him to sit, he finds a spot and sits/lies until we are done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Is not mean at all. We once owned a dog straight from the Devil himself so this is just amazingly wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Already fixed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Is awesome.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Wiggums not-so-pluses:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sheds white hair EVERYWHERE.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Slobbers. A lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ear-splitting loud bark when he needs to go outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rendered into immobile dead weight once he is asleep meaning he often steals my side of the bed and leaves me with a postage stamp sized area of bed on which to sleep.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Snores almost as loud as, if not louder, than Bubba.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;He's gone through about 8 rawhide bones, one of which was a rather large one, already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, anyway, the very next morning, less than 24 hours after we got him, he got off his chain. And then I died. After resuscitation, I ran out the front door as Bubba went out the back, and I saw him standing across the street. And there was a car coming. Now, you know on TV when a character sees something ominous about to happen and that thing DOES happen, only in slow motion? Yeah, that was almost how it went. I could just see him getting splattered all over the street.  I called him once and he just trotted across the street all nonchalant-like. Dang dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days later, he got off his chain AGAIN. (We've since remedied the problem but not before it happened approximately eleventy times.) Bubba wasn't home so Brianna and I were outside trying to catch him which resulted in me standing around crying, yes, literally, as she chased and eventually watched as the neighbor caught him. Quite easily, I might add. Dang dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wiggums has inserted himself into the family well. He loves for the kids to brush him (it's one of their daily chores, now), he's decided that he does like ice now and comes when he hears the ice dispenser on the fridge, and he has commandeered the new couch(es) which have now had to be covered at all times because of the HAIR. My lord THE HAIR!  He likes for me to blow air on him from my hair dryer and will plop his butt right onto my feet as I am drying my hair to let me know he is ready.  He often goes with Bubba to pick the kids up from school and spends lots of time upstairs in Brianna's room sleeping on her bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, he's officially one of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbRloGwEz5I/AAAAAAAABV0/xWwRLeifMNQ/s1600-h/3290424466_9e66bdfa53.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbRloGwEz5I/AAAAAAAABV0/xWwRLeifMNQ/s320/3290424466_9e66bdfa53.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310981600258084754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;First bath, during which he would only look away.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbRmQCo4CUI/AAAAAAAABV8/GU_AZCPHFOc/s1600-h/3290432966_9b5d8408df.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 219px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbRmQCo4CUI/AAAAAAAABV8/GU_AZCPHFOc/s320/3290432966_9b5d8408df.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310982286348912962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Note the string of slobber hanging from his mouth.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbRnkdJxt9I/AAAAAAAABWE/hkJAWSPAtQw/s1600-h/3333899323_ac975e7579.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbRnkdJxt9I/AAAAAAAABWE/hkJAWSPAtQw/s320/3333899323_ac975e7579.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310983736575244242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Where he stayed while Braelyn was sick.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbRru_eWUuI/AAAAAAAABWM/XIcn4m19SeA/s1600-h/3319215353_6f2a4005bc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbRru_eWUuI/AAAAAAAABWM/XIcn4m19SeA/s320/3319215353_6f2a4005bc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310988315633537762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Brand new pillows!! Dang dog.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbRsD1eBcqI/AAAAAAAABWU/EMZAom4lHLU/s1600-h/3339192515_c1f8785a95.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbRsD1eBcqI/AAAAAAAABWU/EMZAom4lHLU/s320/3339192515_c1f8785a95.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310988673725067938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;He is NOT Bubba's dog. Nuh uh! No way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. The Dyson we now own to combat THE HAIR!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbRs8DkZmrI/AAAAAAAABWc/ldhxoqlHsGA/s1600-h/3301740727_e6818e51b4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbRs8DkZmrI/AAAAAAAABWc/ldhxoqlHsGA/s320/3301740727_e6818e51b4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310989639582587570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Brianna and I were getting a lesson in Dyson use. I SWEAR I was listening.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-1717420852941021401?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/1717420852941021401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=1717420852941021401&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1717420852941021401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1717420852941021401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/02/introducing-mr-wiggums-von-beauregard.html' title='Introducing Mr. Wiggums Von Beauregard'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SbRFQvKTVxI/AAAAAAAABVs/RNC8tFWMCPA/s72-c/wiggums.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-4226334838310594620</id><published>2009-03-02T07:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T07:11:39.089-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Aw, nuts! It's Monday, again.</title><content type='html'>Seen at the local Wal-Mart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/angiedi70/3317801693/" title="IMG_5869 by anjpanj, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3020/3317801693_8e2b9026be.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_5869" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know, this just &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;oozes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; manliness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-4226334838310594620?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/4226334838310594620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=4226334838310594620&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4226334838310594620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4226334838310594620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/03/aw-nuts-its-monday-again.html' title='Aw, nuts! It&apos;s Monday, again.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3020/3317801693_8e2b9026be_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-2854603060805555463</id><published>2009-02-17T20:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T22:43:36.526-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally, we get to the singing!</title><content type='html'>Finally, it's time for the singing on Idol.  Tonight the first 12 sang and these are my thoughts...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jackie Tohn--"A Little Less Conversation"  I didn't like her spandex and I didn't like her rendition of this song. She is, however, very comfortable on stage.  I think she was trying to have fun, but it just came off weird.  5/10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ricky Braddy--"A Song For You" I really do like this guy's voice.  I admit to not remembering him before tonight., but that's OK.  He has some trouble with the high notes but overall I liked it a lot. I would like to hear something a little more upbeat from him.  I don't think he'll make it past tonight.  7/10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alexis Grace--"Never Loved A Man"  Wow!  Alexis was really good! Also, I think she looked great!  I would really like her to stay because I think she could do some really awesome songs later in the show. 8 &amp;amp; 1/2 out of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brent Keith--"Hicktown" I didn't like the song choice at all. I won't remember his performance tomorrow. Or in 5 minutes.  I think other guys will outshine him. PS he sasses back to Simon.  Even if I loved him, I could never vote for him.  5/10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stevie Wright--"You Belong to me" Really bad song choice and wow was she ever out of tune.  Poor Stevie. I wanted her to be good. She just wasn't. 3/10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anoop Desai--"Angel of Mine"  Like Simon said, he has a huge likability.factor.  He could have picked a better song. Pleasant voice, but nothing that stood out, though, I do like him. 7/10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Casey Carlson--"Every Little Thing She(he) Does is Magic"  Nope. Bad song choice. (Though I love The Police's version.) Flat. Off key. Just not good. 4/10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael Sarver--"I Don't Wanna Be"  One of my very favorite songs. He did a pretty decent job but what I loved was that he showed LOTS of personality! 7/10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne-Marie Boskavich--"Natural Woman" Eh. While she was better than Stevie and Casey, she still wasn't that great. 6/10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephen Fowler--"Rock With You" I didn't think it was as bad as the judges made it out to be.  I kinda liked it.  6 1/2 out of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tatiana Del Toro--"Saving All My Love For You." Doesn't much matter because I loathe her. 5 to 6 out of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danny Gokey--"Hero"  Love.  Amen. 9/10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alexis and Danny are my two favorites. If I had to pick a third it would be Michael Sarver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a little bit bummed because so many of these people were disappointing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't like the 'parents-in-the-red room' thing. CAR-uh was a little annoying. And my Simon spoke the truth as always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sort of disappointing start to the singing this year.  I hope it gets better!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-2854603060805555463?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/2854603060805555463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=2854603060805555463&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2854603060805555463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2854603060805555463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/02/finally-we-get-to-singing.html' title='Finally, we get to the singing!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-9196385042563123772</id><published>2009-02-15T00:08:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T01:17:26.306-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stimulating the economy</title><content type='html'>Meet my new baby...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SZeldP6d9sI/AAAAAAAABVc/Fw3WnlE2XWk/s1600-h/acer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SZeldP6d9sI/AAAAAAAABVc/Fw3WnlE2XWk/s320/acer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302889008158602946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;This is Balki.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, how about this for new comfy seating?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SZezJw_2OOI/AAAAAAAABVk/Wxj0mnr_BSE/s1600-h/couch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SZezJw_2OOI/AAAAAAAABVk/Wxj0mnr_BSE/s320/couch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302904066604939490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a matching loveseat, too.  Suddenly, the whole family hangs out together in the living room.  It's funny how new furniture and some simple throw pillows and curtains make such a big difference in one room!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubba and I also got a much-needed new bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How's that for economy stimulation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The big O would be so proud, don't ya think??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-9196385042563123772?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/9196385042563123772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=9196385042563123772&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/9196385042563123772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/9196385042563123772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/02/stimulating-economy.html' title='Stimulating the economy'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SZeldP6d9sI/AAAAAAAABVc/Fw3WnlE2XWk/s72-c/acer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-7487128566086892324</id><published>2009-01-19T00:04:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T00:19:07.759-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='presidentbush'/><title type='text'>Farewell and Thank You</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SXQLbLe1TjI/AAAAAAAABUI/MBzKEBZ9r2Q/s1600-h/bushformal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 297px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SXQLbLe1TjI/AAAAAAAABUI/MBzKEBZ9r2Q/s320/bushformal.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292868023633661490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SXQLU1jFibI/AAAAAAAABUA/twf81fJvgTA/s1600-h/bush911.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 297px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SXQLU1jFibI/AAAAAAAABUA/twf81fJvgTA/s320/bush911.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292867914666707378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SXQLK-35BSI/AAAAAAAABT4/L6-EwGsoXr4/s1600-h/bushflag.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 274px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SXQLK-35BSI/AAAAAAAABT4/L6-EwGsoXr4/s320/bushflag.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292867745371194658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was his biggest supporter. There were missteps as well as good choices and decisions and all along I knew he was doing what he thought was right for the people of this country. After 9/11 I felt more safe than ever. I never lost HOPE. I was always proud of my country and proud to be an American. I will miss him as the president. I hope he enjoys a long and happy life with Laura outside of the White House.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Godspeed, Mr. President.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;ps I have closed comments on this one to keep out the crazies. I am not in the mood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-7487128566086892324?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7487128566086892324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7487128566086892324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/01/farewell-and-thank-you.html' title='Farewell and Thank You'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SXQLbLe1TjI/AAAAAAAABUI/MBzKEBZ9r2Q/s72-c/bushformal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-970604088947758265</id><published>2009-01-04T18:34:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T20:29:05.024-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bullets'/><title type='text'>My first Sunday Bullets of the year!</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am very sad that my Colts lost last night. I couldn't even watch the game because I get too nervous and my stomach hurts. I just waited for Bubba to emerge from the man cave and fill me in. There's always next year, right?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm STILL cleaning in my bedroom. Being a pack rat is not conducive to happiness. I'm just saying. Here is just a teeny tiny small portion of the pictures I have to get organized.  There are 5 boxes in this picture alone. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SWFKsDvf3OI/AAAAAAAABSg/CY00bTZKJSA/s1600-h/pictureboxes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SWFKsDvf3OI/AAAAAAAABSg/CY00bTZKJSA/s320/pictureboxes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287589558288899298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I helped Braelyn start her very first scrapbook today. She really likes it and so far is very good at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tomorrow I am starting back up with counting points a la Weight Watchers. I'll be doing it myself since we really don't have the money for me to join. I would like to know more about their new 'Momentum' program, though. Maybe I'll join and get the info and then not go back. I've done that a million times before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My plan is to start some kind of exercise as well. Walking, I've decided is not really my thing. BUT, we are thinking of getting a treadmill. At least I could read or watch TV while I'm doing that.  Besides that, though, there are some exercise programs on Comcast On Demand, which is cool. Maybe that is what I'll do. Joining a gym is not an option because number one, expense and number two, that whole thing where I don't like to go around people in embarrassing situations. I'll let you know how it all goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I failed with a capital FAIL with the 365 Days thing on my &lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/angiedi70/sets/72157606127355442/" target="blank"&gt; flickr&lt;/a&gt; last year so this year I am doing the 2009 Year In Pictures. It's much easier for me because I can take a photo of anyone or anything.  Let's see if I can manage to shoot one picture a day for a while year. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I had a huge feeling old moment last night. I was watching Poltergeist and I got to thinking too much. Checked out IMDB and did the math. Coach (which is how we refer to Craig T Nelson around here) was MY AGE when he made that movie. Perhaps even a year or two younger. OMG. Freak out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Aaaand, that is about it for this installment of Sunday Bullets. Everyone have a great week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SWFfPJ79QgI/AAAAAAAABSo/mD1Q2GicvvU/s1600-h/IMG_5527.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SWFfPJ79QgI/AAAAAAAABSo/mD1Q2GicvvU/s320/IMG_5527.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287612151479747074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;The kids love that I moved the couch at an angle leaving them a fun play spot.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-970604088947758265?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/970604088947758265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=970604088947758265&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/970604088947758265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/970604088947758265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-first-sunday-bullets-of-year.html' title='My first Sunday Bullets of the year!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SWFKsDvf3OI/AAAAAAAABSg/CY00bTZKJSA/s72-c/pictureboxes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-1837496230107489408</id><published>2009-01-03T10:13:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T10:24:17.947-05:00</updated><title type='text'>3 Days Into the New Year</title><content type='html'>Last night, I was feeling really light-headed. I'm not sure why but it was really annoying. Everyone kept asking if I was pregnant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not. Funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An update on my mayhem and foolishness:  I didn't work on it any yesterday, but I'm getting ready to get my butt up out of this chair and start working on it. There are just so many pictures and papers and stuff to go through. It's overwhelming, but it must be done or I will be mad at myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubba's gone to referee basketball in Indy and I'm bracing myself for Braelyn to puke more. She puked twice yesterday!  She is definitely her sister's sister! Brianna was my barf child and I'm hoping Braelyn just has a bug because I don't do puke very well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other new that's not news, I'm trying to psych myself up for healthy food and lifestyle changes come Monday. I only have a few months until my 20 year reunion. If I don't lose at least a little bit of weight, I know I won't go. I know myself. I'm trying to be all, 'This is me. I love me. Who cares what others might think.' Yeah. That's not really happening. All I know is I am NOT going to be this large at 40. In less than 2 years! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The OREOS don't help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SV-C4bB7AOI/AAAAAAAABSY/o1QVI1AvSZs/s1600-h/IMG_5517.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SV-C4bB7AOI/AAAAAAAABSY/o1QVI1AvSZs/s320/IMG_5517.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287088393396355298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-1837496230107489408?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/1837496230107489408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=1837496230107489408&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1837496230107489408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1837496230107489408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/01/3-days-into-new-year.html' title='3 Days Into the New Year'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SV-C4bB7AOI/AAAAAAAABSY/o1QVI1AvSZs/s72-c/IMG_5517.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-5652857594241806075</id><published>2009-01-01T21:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T22:11:12.938-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First post of the new year</title><content type='html'>Well, I survived New Year's Eve...alone. No one to kiss as Bubba was sick in bed hacking up his lungs and the kids were zonked out and/or not home. I watched New Year's Rockin' Eve which I must say loses a little bit of luster every year as I get older. Dick Clark, bless his heart, needs to hang it up for good. Ryan Seacrest is a decent replacement and even though Kelly Pickler YELLED the entire night and said, "Yeah?" way too much, she was fun. The musical guests were just eh. But I can't not watch the ball drop every year so the show served it's purpose for me. As I watched, I also hijacked the status updates at facebook and rambled mindlessly every couple of minutes or so. My friends really appreciated that. Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a pretty good day as New Year's days go. The kids and I got the Christmas tree taken down and all packed away. I went through a few Christmas decor containers and filled one (plus a little more) to give to a local charity place which is similar to Goodwill. It's all perfectly good stuff but just things I don't use anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also today, I began the long and arduous task of cleaning the mountain of crap out of my bedroom. I would take a photo but it's way too embarrassing. No, it is. I promise. Think of the houses on Clean House, only in 2 square yards of space. Niecy Nash would be so upset at my mayhem and foolishness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first step is admitting it, right?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My main motivator? The panic attacks I'm having at the thought of Brianna's graduation reception. Not because we're having it here, (because we're not) but because I want to have all of her school memorabilia and photos organized for display. I have about 4 and 1/2 months. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my goodness, someone get me a paper bag to breathe into!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have made a dent in the mayhem and foolishness, though and that is a good thing. When I am finished, we're going to rearrange the bedroom and put on our new bedding that we've had for a while but never used. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2009...a year of panic and cha...um...things which are different!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SV2FSwSe6JI/AAAAAAAABSQ/O_IilyYak7k/s1600-h/candycanes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SV2FSwSe6JI/AAAAAAAABSQ/O_IilyYak7k/s320/candycanes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286528094849394834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-5652857594241806075?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/5652857594241806075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=5652857594241806075&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5652857594241806075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5652857594241806075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-post-of-new-year.html' title='First post of the new year'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SV2FSwSe6JI/AAAAAAAABSQ/O_IilyYak7k/s72-c/candycanes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-4017071741862825694</id><published>2008-12-31T21:53:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T00:17:10.325-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's Eve and no one to kiss</title><content type='html'>Oh how dismal the blogging has been around here in December. I am ashamed. But, I am back in the saddle again. At least for tonight.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I type this, it is nearly 10pm on New Year's Eve and Bubba just went to bed because he is sick. Braelyn is dozing on the couch still sick from an all night pukefest last night. Jameson just went to Bubba's 'man cave' to take over that TV and Brianna is at her boyfriend's house. And here I am, now watching Ryan Seacrest on New Year's Rockin' Eve and blogging. Par-tay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December has been a good month. I had quite a few days off work and got the bulk of my Christmas shopping done quickly and easily. Bubba had been buying toys and things since summer so we didn't have much else to buy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas Eve was quite relaxed as Brianna had been wrapping gifts for me for a while and so I didn't have to stay up until 3am wrapping presents and cursing myself for buying so much!  We made cookies and iced and sprinkled them when Brianna got home from her boyfriend's house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SVw4esv1KSI/AAAAAAAABRo/MCx1ah5z1qU/s1600-h/IMG_5388.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SVw4esv1KSI/AAAAAAAABRo/MCx1ah5z1qU/s320/IMG_5388.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286162162685126946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, of course, was the opening of the new jammies. This is always popular and was better this year once Jameson resigned himself to the fact that, NO, we do not open more than one present on Christmas Eve and that one present is always chosen by Mommy. He'll learn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SVw_9oDDc8I/AAAAAAAABRw/4vrB82eHl0Y/s1600-h/IMG_5402.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SVw_9oDDc8I/AAAAAAAABRw/4vrB82eHl0Y/s320/IMG_5402.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286170390580917186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;New Jammies&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And because you can't see Brianna's jammies in that photo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SVxDe96hloI/AAAAAAAABR4/4tvZy9mo72w/s1600-h/IMG_5407.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SVxDe96hloI/AAAAAAAABR4/4tvZy9mo72w/s320/IMG_5407.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286174261921289858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After jammies, we watched some A Christmas Story marathon on TBS and the kiddies all went to bed in Brianna's room. (tradition) I wrapped a few final things and then Bubba and I tackled the Santa cookies and the reindeer carrots. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of reindeer carrots, we always try to think of new ways to leave evidence of Santa's visit. So, I had this awesome inspired thought... Reindeer puke! I know, EW, but it was the funniest thing! Bubba chewed up the carrots and spit them out and made a little pile of puke on the front step. The reaction the next morning was PRICELESS! The kids thought it was the funniest thing EVER.  Santa left a thank you note and mentioned that Blitzen had a belly ache and maybe their daddy could clean it up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I give you...&lt;br /&gt;Blitzen Barf!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SVxMtYnofTI/AAAAAAAABSA/9VZlV-N-ZQU/s1600-h/IMG_5419.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SVxMtYnofTI/AAAAAAAABSA/9VZlV-N-ZQU/s320/IMG_5419.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286184405212626226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please excuse the sorry state of our front steps. Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jameson got the castle he wanted and promptly "fainted."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SVxPXManYGI/AAAAAAAABSI/08JweIucfNY/s1600-h/IMG_5425.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SVxPXManYGI/AAAAAAAABSI/08JweIucfNY/s320/IMG_5425.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286187322514563170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Braelyn got the Barbie house she wanted. Brianna got money to buy a new camera (because she couldn't decide BEFORE Christmas which one she wanted). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me, I got Snuggies blankets. You know, the blanket with sleeves! They are awesome! I got a Wall.E to sit on my desk at work and Die Hard 1 &amp; 2 on DVD. I'm weird, I know.  I got a few other mom type gifts which I loved. But, as all you parents know, I'm just happy when my kids are happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We visited my parents for more gifts then came home and had a yummy turkey dinner. It was a great day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that kind of catches me up to New Year's Eve. One of my resolutions is to blog more, so stay tuned!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-4017071741862825694?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/4017071741862825694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=4017071741862825694&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4017071741862825694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4017071741862825694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/12/new-years-eve-and-no-one-to-kiss.html' title='New Year&apos;s Eve and no one to kiss'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SVw4esv1KSI/AAAAAAAABRo/MCx1ah5z1qU/s72-c/IMG_5388.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-5110787839135817612</id><published>2008-12-18T22:50:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T22:51:10.124-05:00</updated><title type='text'>GASP!!</title><content type='html'>The chosen one has upset the masses! Whatever will we do???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-5110787839135817612?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/5110787839135817612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=5110787839135817612&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5110787839135817612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5110787839135817612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/12/gasp.html' title='GASP!!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-579866965905323561</id><published>2008-12-02T20:13:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T20:28:16.023-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate the news.</title><content type='html'>I was sick ALL weekend. Since Friday afternoon, even. It sucked donkey butt, too. Fever, chills, aches, sore throat but thank goodness no puking! I spent the entire time in bed or in the recliner. (we do NOT have a comfortable couch and that sucks even more when you're sick and just want to lay on the couch and fade in and out of consciousness while watching so-bad-it's-good TV.) I watched no news. I checked my email a couple of times and changed my status on Facebook and MySpace to something sick and whiny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can imagine my disgust, my repulsion, even,  when I emerged from my sickly fog on Monday (only because I had to go to work) to find out that freakin' Obama added freakin' Hillary to his little entourage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will this nightmare NEVER end? And it hasn't even started!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, to cleanse my palate, a photo of something completely unrelated...an out- take of all the kids in the family on Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/STXf_wded4I/AAAAAAAABRg/UMlPZMx9xHs/s1600-h/IMG_4936.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/STXf_wded4I/AAAAAAAABRg/UMlPZMx9xHs/s320/IMG_4936.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275368824967690114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-579866965905323561?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/579866965905323561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=579866965905323561&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/579866965905323561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/579866965905323561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-hate-news.html' title='I hate the news.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/STXf_wded4I/AAAAAAAABRg/UMlPZMx9xHs/s72-c/IMG_4936.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-2451675825406587639</id><published>2008-11-26T20:24:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T21:17:06.970-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='board games'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pink'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ouija'/><title type='text'>Wait, it's Wednesday, NOT Friday?</title><content type='html'>This feels like a Friday, no?  I don't really have much to talk about but I had the itch to write a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, oh! I know what I planned to talk about here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole pink girly pink pink girly girl thing is so getting old with me. EVERY dang thing comes in a pink version 'just for girls' these days. It all just makes me roll my eyes. (but what &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; make me roll my eyes, right?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now? The pink thing has invaded the world of board games!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;LIFE&lt;/span&gt;: Come on girl friends! Hop in my car and travel with me in my game of LIFE! Who needs a man??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Twister&lt;/span&gt;: Left hand PINK! Right foot PINK! And it comes with a pink cherry bag to carry it in! Please. Stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Monopoly&lt;/span&gt;: Pink frickin' boutique edition! Comes with a pink box to hold everything. Hang on a sec while I dab the tears of desecrated board game sadness from my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Scrabble&lt;/span&gt;: You, too can spell girly words such as PINK, manicure, tampon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jenga&lt;/span&gt;: Pink sticks of wood. I've got nothin.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And freakin' UNO&lt;/span&gt;: Actually called UNO Chic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is NOTHING sacred?? What's next?? Clue at the MALL??? (Mrs. White in Macy's with the fuzzy pink boa!) I'm so disgusted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, but it gets better. Oh yes it does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Click it to see what the pretty pink princess is saying.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SS38Z5ny2TI/AAAAAAAABRU/Wvbdjhd8r14/s1600-h/scan0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 333px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SS38Z5ny2TI/AAAAAAAABRU/Wvbdjhd8r14/s400/scan0001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273148260615379250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;I swear if that doesn't say "Mystifying Oracle!" Ask the questions girls want answered!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look, I know it's marketed as a toy. I know it's just a piece of plastic. However, I was raised to never touch a Ouija board. (and yes, that IS pronounced Weejee, thank you.) They're from the devEEL! Brianna knows I would skin her hide if she partakes in the spirit conjuring. I remember in the 6th grade, a girl in my class brought a Ouija board to class and the teacher let us play with it. (Yeah, NOT gonna happen these days, thank goodness!) When I say us I mean not me. I stood back and watched the devil slide right inside all my classmates! Right before my eyes.  I swear!  Peer pressure be damned, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;was not touching that thing! Basically it was two or three people touching the planchette and accusing each other of moving it. 'You're moving it! No I'm not, YOU are! Huh uh! YOU are moving it!' No way. Nuh uh. No how. Creepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now they are marketing it with PINK! Just for girls!! You'll get a warm fuzzy pink feeling when Uncle John who was killed in a tragic chicken farm incident visits you in your pretty pink bedroom to share ssssecrets from the other side!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No thanks, Toys R Us. You can keep that little bit of PINK! fabulocity to youRselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now excuse me while I go play UNO with cards of PRIMARY colors.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-2451675825406587639?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/2451675825406587639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=2451675825406587639&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2451675825406587639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2451675825406587639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/wait-its-wednesday-not-friday.html' title='Wait, it&apos;s Wednesday, NOT Friday?'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SS38Z5ny2TI/AAAAAAAABRU/Wvbdjhd8r14/s72-c/scan0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-8536142857932389744</id><published>2008-11-25T19:53:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T00:09:18.098-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday post part deux</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSyyGrvmr_I/AAAAAAAABQM/7FiuQFvBUc0/s1600-h/cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 294px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSyyGrvmr_I/AAAAAAAABQM/7FiuQFvBUc0/s320/cake.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272785091635359730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I had a pretty good birthday today. Kisses and wishes from the family in the morning plus Bubba had gotten me some clothes. (Don't worry, it was stuff I'd picked out already.) When I got to work, my friend/co-worker, Carey had a nice birthday spread for me. Cake, mexican dip and chips and gifts! She made a watch for me and also gave me a yummy smelling gingerbread cookies candle, smell goods from bath and body works, a calendar for my cubicle at work, Dove chocolates, and a Christmas bulb Coke. (Have you seen those??)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN, when I got home, my little kids had made me a cake all by themselves (see photo) and Bubba was making homemade pizza for dinner. Mmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents called me and acted all goofy about their baby turning a year older and I got tons of birthday wishes from my online friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel all special and warm and fuzzy! It's been a really great birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I'd sort of steal my friend &lt;a href="http://jr-brainfreeze.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-now-qualify-for-medicare.html" target="blank"&gt;Drillah's&lt;/a&gt; idea and share some info about the year I was born. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some famous people who were also born on November 25th, just not in my year, as no one famous was born on this date in 1970 and also I think I've mentioned all of these people in previous birthday posts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe DiMaggio--some guy who used to sell Mr. Coffee :)&lt;br /&gt;Ricardo Montalban--boss to Herve "da plane!" Villechaize on Fantasy Island&lt;br /&gt;Ben "Beuller? Anyone?" Stein&lt;br /&gt;John Larroquette-- Dan Fielding on Night Court&lt;br /&gt;Amy Grant-- "Baby, Baby"&lt;br /&gt;JFK Jr.-- Gone too soon. :(&lt;br /&gt;Christina Applegate-- Kelly Bundy&lt;br /&gt;Barbara and Jenna Bush-- Daughters of Dubya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing too eventful happened on this day in 1970, or really any other year for that matter. However, there were some notable things which did happen during the year of 1970. Like...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first episode of All My Children was broadcast.&lt;br /&gt;Black Sabbath's debut album was released.&lt;br /&gt;President Nixon signed a law banning cigarette ads on US television.&lt;br /&gt;AMC introduced the Gremlin.&lt;br /&gt;The Apollo 13 mission was launched then had to be aborted just 2 days later. &lt;br /&gt;The Kent State Shootings happened in May.&lt;br /&gt;The Beatles' final album was released. &lt;br /&gt;Voting age is lowered to 18.&lt;br /&gt;Jimi Hendrix died and Janice Joplin died both due to drug overdoses.&lt;br /&gt;The north tower of the World Trade Center is completed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzQtf9dyoI/AAAAAAAABQU/eKvAGTAZaBs/s1600-h/IMG_4808.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzQtf9dyoI/AAAAAAAABQU/eKvAGTAZaBs/s320/IMG_4808.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272818743836002946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;A few of mah birthday goodies.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzUEHeys3I/AAAAAAAABQc/0KMbvpHK4Vg/s1600-h/scan0005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 315px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzUEHeys3I/AAAAAAAABQc/0KMbvpHK4Vg/s320/scan0005.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272822430936773490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Me at almost 1 year old. Look! I survived one of those killer walkers!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzUTukEgpI/AAAAAAAABQk/ZKxMAyDLn-k/s1600-h/scan0006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 261px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzUTukEgpI/AAAAAAAABQk/ZKxMAyDLn-k/s320/scan0006.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272822699125932690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;At my grandma's for my 3rd birthday.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzUiSjImqI/AAAAAAAABQs/jnXSMVG19VA/s1600-h/scan0007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzUiSjImqI/AAAAAAAABQs/jnXSMVG19VA/s320/scan0007.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272822949303851682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;At my grandma's in Tennessee for my 9th birthday.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzUwWjEtbI/AAAAAAAABQ0/pnXNQZPC4g4/s1600-h/scan0008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzUwWjEtbI/AAAAAAAABQ0/pnXNQZPC4g4/s320/scan0008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272823190895506866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Me, on the right, with my sisters in about 1983.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzVgcjtcBI/AAAAAAAABQ8/3fLCNbD7jI0/s1600-h/461415417_19ad67f5e9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzVgcjtcBI/AAAAAAAABQ8/3fLCNbD7jI0/s320/461415417_19ad67f5e9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272824017142509586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Heavily made up and blonde in 1985 or 1986.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzZaNkXOhI/AAAAAAAABRE/oxcN-hNFslk/s1600-h/angiesr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzZaNkXOhI/AAAAAAAABRE/oxcN-hNFslk/s320/angiesr.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272828308086012434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Senior year&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzZmXxfYHI/AAAAAAAABRM/cP0PrJSqxH4/s1600-h/3060736970_6d95e15bd0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSzZmXxfYHI/AAAAAAAABRM/cP0PrJSqxH4/s320/3060736970_6d95e15bd0.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272828516983857266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Today. In which my tongue looks Bessie the cow LARGE.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus ends my life in photos for today. Thanks for playing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-8536142857932389744?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/8536142857932389744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=8536142857932389744&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/8536142857932389744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/8536142857932389744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/birthday-post-part-deux.html' title='Birthday post part deux'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSyyGrvmr_I/AAAAAAAABQM/7FiuQFvBUc0/s72-c/cake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-8213039206008665378</id><published>2008-11-25T07:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T07:09:03.054-05:00</updated><title type='text'>third E ate</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSvqWRQdFjI/AAAAAAAABQE/1vGxrX-bMl4/s1600-h/ThirtyEight.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSvqWRQdFjI/AAAAAAAABQE/1vGxrX-bMl4/s320/ThirtyEight.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272565457077737010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That's me. Today I am 38. It feels a little strange to say it out loud. It sounds kind of old but I don't feel old so I guess that is a good thing, right? I'm off to work, but gifts and money will still be accepted in my absence!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-8213039206008665378?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/8213039206008665378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=8213039206008665378&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/8213039206008665378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/8213039206008665378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/third-e-ate.html' title='third E ate'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSvqWRQdFjI/AAAAAAAABQE/1vGxrX-bMl4/s72-c/ThirtyEight.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-8509128312622210651</id><published>2008-11-24T18:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T18:51:16.931-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Overheard conversation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSs9culpxdI/AAAAAAAABP8/t0gMRQ-4ARA/s1600-h/pinkpoodlewebkinz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSs9culpxdI/AAAAAAAABP8/t0gMRQ-4ARA/s200/pinkpoodlewebkinz.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272375352518886866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Braelyn:&lt;/span&gt; "Daddy, did you know that yesterday was my Webkinz birthday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Daddy:&lt;/span&gt; "No, I didn't. How old is she?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Braelyn:&lt;/span&gt; (with a look of 'DUH!' on her face) "A year older than she was!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-8509128312622210651?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/8509128312622210651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=8509128312622210651&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/8509128312622210651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/8509128312622210651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/overheard-conversation.html' title='Overheard conversation'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSs9culpxdI/AAAAAAAABP8/t0gMRQ-4ARA/s72-c/pinkpoodlewebkinz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-2500782871430526892</id><published>2008-11-22T10:05:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T10:33:55.507-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just curious</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSgl25KszxI/AAAAAAAABP0/7DtoK4NXqVo/s1600-h/B.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 75px; height: 75px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSgl25KszxI/AAAAAAAABP0/7DtoK4NXqVo/s200/B.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271504988826029842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSglxOjCf5I/AAAAAAAABPs/AsJsfajBgss/s1600-h/A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 75px; height: 75px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSglxOjCf5I/AAAAAAAABPs/AsJsfajBgss/s200/A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271504891486044050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSglq82PqNI/AAAAAAAABPk/i0YMskys0ig/s1600-h/B2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 75px; height: 75px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSglq82PqNI/AAAAAAAABPk/i0YMskys0ig/s200/B2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271504783655545042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSgllidflUI/AAAAAAAABPc/aKRw_knUFNk/s1600-h/E.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 75px; height: 75px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSgllidflUI/AAAAAAAABPc/aKRw_knUFNk/s200/E.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271504690673063234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What sort of endearing names do you have for your significant other??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are a woman, do you call your man, "Baby?" I find that a little odd, but I hear it a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not sure what triggered this particular question, but now I want to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave comments!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS I'm so boring, I usually just say, "Hon" or "Honey."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-2500782871430526892?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/2500782871430526892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=2500782871430526892&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2500782871430526892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2500782871430526892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/just-curious.html' title='Just curious'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSgl25KszxI/AAAAAAAABP0/7DtoK4NXqVo/s72-c/B.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-1518153861162714390</id><published>2008-11-20T07:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T07:25:21.875-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='phone'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jameson'/><title type='text'>And they call it Puppy Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSVV1V7_4cI/AAAAAAAABPM/9hAUTAnDYvw/s1600-h/IMG_4703.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSVV1V7_4cI/AAAAAAAABPM/9hAUTAnDYvw/s320/IMG_4703.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270713313817256386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That's my son, Jameson, talking on the phone. To his girlfriend! He's 5!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's kind of odd that I caught him sitting still because when they talk on the phone he usually paces all around the house. One night he was talking to her after she called him back because she'd been in the bathtub. He said, "What did you do in the bath?" I thought that was pretty funny. He says stuff like, "What else have you been doing?" "What's your middle name?" There are lots of long silences, too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time they talked was when we were freezing without a furnace. I had the TV muted so I could listen. (I'm the mom and I can do what I want!) The next thing I know he says, "Do you have a heater at your house?"  Needless to say, it was time for him to get off the phone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSVW_OQ3XnI/AAAAAAAABPU/Wxndgv4QhVE/s1600-h/IMG_4702.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSVW_OQ3XnI/AAAAAAAABPU/Wxndgv4QhVE/s320/IMG_4702.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270714583067614834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-1518153861162714390?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/1518153861162714390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=1518153861162714390&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1518153861162714390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1518153861162714390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/and-they-call-it-puppy-love.html' title='And they call it Puppy Love'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSVV1V7_4cI/AAAAAAAABPM/9hAUTAnDYvw/s72-c/IMG_4703.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-6273285647147397414</id><published>2008-11-17T22:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T23:19:23.902-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Carte de Noel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSI_1-QRgrI/AAAAAAAABPE/PARXRRzbb5Y/s1600-h/christmascards1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 192px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSI_1-QRgrI/AAAAAAAABPE/PARXRRzbb5Y/s320/christmascards1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269844710453772978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's that time of year again! Time to plan my Christmas cards. Would you like to get a Christmas card from me and my family? If so, send me an email at angiedbATgmailDOTcom and I'll add you to my list! Come on, you know you want to! Last year I had lots of fun sending and receiving cards from my friends in the computer so I want to continue the 'tradition.' (Does 2 years in a row make it a tradition?) Get into the Christmas spirit early and send me your address! :) You never know what kind of picture you may get this year. Heh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-6273285647147397414?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/6273285647147397414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=6273285647147397414&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6273285647147397414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6273285647147397414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/carte-de-noel.html' title='Carte de Noel'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSI_1-QRgrI/AAAAAAAABPE/PARXRRzbb5Y/s72-c/christmascards1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-4849854878195353712</id><published>2008-11-16T23:48:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T01:30:00.423-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Carbs in a ding dong</title><content type='html'>I'm not going to talk about carbs or ding dongs but I thought that was funny as heck. Someone found my blog by searching for 'carbs in a ding dong.' I saw that and I was all, "I've never talked about carbs in ding dongs before."  But...I &lt;a href="http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2005/08/ding-dong.html" target="blank"&gt;HAVE!&lt;/a&gt;  Well, I talked about ding dongs and my readers talked about carbs in a ding dong. (TARA, I'm looking at YOU!)&lt;br /&gt;OK, so enough about ding dongs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a whole lot to talk about but I thought I would go ahead and do a few Sunday Bullets while it's still Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Colts won!! How awesome was that last interception??&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ball State is still kicking butt and taking names. Go Cards!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I had to work Saturday and today. I hate working weekends because I feel like I missed out on something. You know, like being lazy at home. Thank goodness both days went by quickly. Even though I feel like I forgot to do something today. I hate that feeling.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am quite sure that Pepsi is phasing out my liquid crack. It pains me to say that it is getting harder and harder for me (read:Bubba) to find Diet Dr Pepper Cherry Vanilla in stores around here. I am in panic mode. Kind of like when Elaine frantically searched the city for The Sponge on Seinfeld, that will be me running around town buying up every last drop of my caffeine fix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How is it that half of November is already gone??  Time goes too quickly these days. I'll be 38 soon. (the 25th for those keeping track. I'm easy to buy for.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I wonder if I can lose 50 pounds between January 1st and July 10-ish? (My 20 year reunion is sometime this summer. Lord, help me.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Remind me that my next post is Christmas related. Don't let me forget.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Brianna went to Sadies on Saturday. The Sadie Hawkins Dance. You know, the one where the girl asks and pays and the couple wears matching shirts? Pictures next.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSEO5-raznI/AAAAAAAABO0/Zg-V0INr1Is/s1600-h/sadies08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSEO5-raznI/AAAAAAAABO0/Zg-V0INr1Is/s320/sadies08.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269509428240633458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Jeremy and Brianna--Sadies '08&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSEPIymDCGI/AAAAAAAABO8/-SufxZao_Ws/s1600-h/sadies88.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSEPIymDCGI/AAAAAAAABO8/-SufxZao_Ws/s320/sadies88.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269509682694916194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Angie and Bubba--Sadies '88&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-4849854878195353712?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/4849854878195353712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=4849854878195353712&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4849854878195353712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4849854878195353712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/carbs-in-ding-dong.html' title='Carbs in a ding dong'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SSEO5-raznI/AAAAAAAABO0/Zg-V0INr1Is/s72-c/sadies08.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-2769642917832762988</id><published>2008-11-14T18:51:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T21:37:15.465-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Peek Into the Life of a Fat Girl</title><content type='html'>I hate to shop and I hate to try on clothes. I've said this before. It should come as no surprise, then, that my favorite pair of black pants (favorite = most comfortable) was approaching the end of it's life. (wait, were approaching the end of their lives? nevermind) I held out as long as I could, but, um, yeah. They were pretty bad. See?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SR4sP72R82I/AAAAAAAABOs/Sq4tYr52gdA/s1600-h/IMG_4533.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SR4sP72R82I/AAAAAAAABOs/Sq4tYr52gdA/s200/IMG_4533.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268697266345079650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kind of sad and pathetic, huh?  I FINALLY broke down and bought a new pair of black pants last weekend. I don't like them even half as much as I loved those old pants! No other pants will ever live up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I should probably give you a little black pants history.  I got those pants 8 years ago when I was pregnant with Braelyn. Yep. They were maternity pants. But OMG so comfortable! They didn't have one of those weird panels in the belly area, they were just more roomy there. So, I just folded them over and wore them as normal pants. Like, twice a week for 8 years. And as my fellow fat-girls can testify, the leg rubbage, well, I refer you back to the photo. They wore a tad thin, don't ya think?  That's what 8 years of thunder thigh rubbage does to innocent pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now, I am self-humiliated AND sad. Those were the most awesome pants EVER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I said, the new pants don't live up. I settled. I shouldn't have. The new pants have pockets. I HATE pockets! Fat girls don't need pockets which rest in places they shouldn't! Gah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I shall continue my quest for the perfect pants which won't be so easy since...I hate to shop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-2769642917832762988?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/2769642917832762988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=2769642917832762988&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2769642917832762988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2769642917832762988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/peek-into-life-of-fat-girl.html' title='A Peek Into the Life of a Fat Girl'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SR4sP72R82I/AAAAAAAABOs/Sq4tYr52gdA/s72-c/IMG_4533.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-6832859565548425498</id><published>2008-11-12T19:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T19:38:45.623-05:00</updated><title type='text'>8th</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRt03zA4JLI/AAAAAAAABOk/jHnqFEIdfdU/s1600-h/8thday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 127px; height: 54px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRt03zA4JLI/AAAAAAAABOk/jHnqFEIdfdU/s400/8thday.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267932691075441842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And on the 8th day, God created a new furnace to heat Angie's house. And he saw that it was good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have heat!! Heat that doesn't come from a space heater! I am wearing normal lounge-around-the-house clothes! My fingers aren't frozen to the computer keys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 days with no heat was no fun. But, we made it and now we are comfy and toasty warm and thanking the good Lord for the miracle of high efficiency heat pumps. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-6832859565548425498?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/6832859565548425498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=6832859565548425498&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6832859565548425498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6832859565548425498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/8th.html' title='8th'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRt03zA4JLI/AAAAAAAABOk/jHnqFEIdfdU/s72-c/8thday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-4652932092801440484</id><published>2008-11-11T20:03:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T20:49:43.270-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='furnace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cold'/><title type='text'>Icicles are hanging off my nose.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRoxVM8hWyI/AAAAAAAABOc/I2hjedckBqg/s1600-h/icicles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRoxVM8hWyI/AAAAAAAABOc/I2hjedckBqg/s320/icicles.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267576954485300002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My cold temperature tolerance has reached it's peak and now I'm done. I can't take it any more. It's a dang good thing they start putting in the new furnace tomorrow! I'm kinda thinking about taking the day off so I can properly thank the furnace man. If you know what I mean. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My current attire: black long sleeved t-shirt, navy blue sweatshirt, green sweatshirt on top and green pj pants with black sweats over that on the bottom. Am currently looking to add a pair of socks over the ones I'm wearing as well as searching the house for a scarf and gloves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this, I will never ever ever take heated air for granted ever ever again. Ever. As long as I live. Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. That nasty blue team on The Biggest Loser makes me sick. Nasty bunch of people. Nasty. Mean and nasty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-4652932092801440484?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/4652932092801440484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=4652932092801440484&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4652932092801440484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4652932092801440484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/icicles-are-hanging-off-my-nose.html' title='Icicles are hanging off my nose.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRoxVM8hWyI/AAAAAAAABOc/I2hjedckBqg/s72-c/icicles.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-1630257172993641253</id><published>2008-11-11T18:00:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T21:06:52.719-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, wasn't that fun?</title><content type='html'>I've spent a HUGE part of my life worrying about what other people might think about what I say, or do or think. Part of the problem was my parents.  I had great parents, but, they were just always worried about what other people, especially people at church, would think about what we said or did. That rubbed off on me in a big way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, at 37 (almost 38), I am getting to the point where I don't care. And when I say I don't care, I just mean that I am finally realizing that it's OK for me to have an opinion on anything and everything without being scared to voice it. It's OK for me to &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;NOT&lt;/span&gt; agree with what everyone around me is thinking. It's OK for me to even be the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;ONLY&lt;/span&gt; one with a different opinion. I don't have to have anyone else validate me in any way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew my post about Obama wouldn't be popular and that was OK. It's still OK. I'm allowed to have my own opinions about him and what he plans to do as president. I'm allowed to be worried. I'm allowed to not like him. I'm allowed to not like how people seem to be worshiping him. Just because my opinion makes others angry, it's OK. I'm not ashamed of my feelings, my beliefs, or what my heart and mind are telling me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had a lot of time since last Tuesday to think about the election and everything about Obama. I've read the Obama website from "cover to cover."  I've been reading everything I can get my hands on so I will know what he's planning to do.  I'm still worried, scared, leary...I still feel the way I felt when I wrote my post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote a blog post. A blog post that a tiny handful of people even read. I'm not out on the street corners screaming my disdain. I'm not standing outside the White House screaming like a fool that "THE END IS NIGH!!!"  I wrote a blog post. That's all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing I can say is that if I DIRECTLY singled YOU out and hurt your feelings, I am truly sorry. My intention was not to make people mad. It was to voice my opinion. I was very careful not to make blanket statements. Why?  Because there ARE normal people who voted for Obama. Normal people who think he's an admirable man who will do our country a lot of good. That? Is awesome.  In NO way would I ever say he has &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;ALL&lt;/span&gt; of America hoodwinked. I also would not say that every single person who voted for Obama voted because he was black. I believe I said that I'd heard people say it around me and during interviews and such on television. That is hardly millions of people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the fact of the matter is, Obama was elected and he'll be the president, come January. All I can do is hold on for the ride. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I just don't have to LIKE that ride.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinda like that Tomb Raider ride at King's Island which I hated...but that's another blog post altogether.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-1630257172993641253?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/1630257172993641253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=1630257172993641253&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1630257172993641253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1630257172993641253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/well-wasnt-that-fun.html' title='Well, wasn&apos;t that fun?'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-7629015016168392424</id><published>2008-11-10T20:54:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T21:05:58.451-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What else can I write about??</title><content type='html'>Apparently, my ranting against the new messiah gets me hits and comments and &lt;a href="http://kellyology.net/?p=705"&gt;linkage!&lt;/a&gt; Who knew? (Did ya'll see that? I'm wrong but not ignorant. Hmm..I kind of like that 'not ignorant' part but I have to beg to differ on the 'wrong' part. I got a rep to protect.) Whatever you do, don't click that link! Because then you will click on her link of me, then come back here and click on my link to her and you will get stuck in a scary blog loop from which you may never recover!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By no means do I post to this blog to grow a great big readership or to get comments. (Obviously.) But sometimes, it's nice to get a few more comments than normal.  Even if those comments are from people arguing with me. I don't mind. It's kind of fun.  I need to find something equally as nerve-hitting just to get people to comment.  Just not in THIS post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm currently freezing my patootie off as we still don't have a new furnace and probably won't until Wednesday or Thursday. This is not very fun. But there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  I've never loved blankets and sweatshirts as much as I do right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRj22A-OT8I/AAAAAAAABOU/eX6m2p9vPcI/s1600-h/CastAway_raft_small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 290px; height: 161px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRj22A-OT8I/AAAAAAAABOU/eX6m2p9vPcI/s320/CastAway_raft_small.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267231172044148674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On Saturday night, we were watching 'Castaway' for the eleventieth time and it got to the part where Tom Hanks' character has left the island and is drifting at sea in the dark of night. The whale surfaces and looks at him and Jameson thought that was pretty cool. He said, "He's saying, 'Hey, do you want a ride somewhere?'"   I'm tellin' ya, that kid and his thought processes. He's pretty dang cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, I'm off to hibernate under multiple covers in my igloo of a bedroom. If Bubba turns the fan on tonight, he dies!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-7629015016168392424?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/7629015016168392424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=7629015016168392424&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7629015016168392424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7629015016168392424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-else-can-i-write-about.html' title='What else can I write about??'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRj22A-OT8I/AAAAAAAABOU/eX6m2p9vPcI/s72-c/CastAway_raft_small.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-7033959089813489193</id><published>2008-11-09T19:24:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T20:17:48.850-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Because we all like to be pretty!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SReKy_gts8I/AAAAAAAABOM/ob-952GrDhc/s1600-h/currentcontest.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 190px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SReKy_gts8I/AAAAAAAABOM/ob-952GrDhc/s320/currentcontest.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266830897879823298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was visiting blogs I've never been to and I found a link to a wonderful blog design website called, &lt;a href="http://sochicdesign.com/"&gt;So Chic Design.   &lt;/a&gt;I can't remember whose blog had the link so I'm sorry I can't link to her! Anyway, the lovely designers at So Chic are having a giveaway for November. If you have a blogger/blogspot or wordpress blog, you should go right now and enter this contest! They're giving away a FREE custom blog makeover! Go! Now! Enter to win!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my purty blog (thank you, Tara!) but now I'm bored. I need something new. If I don't win, who wants to make over my blog?? Anyone? Bueller?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-7033959089813489193?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/7033959089813489193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=7033959089813489193&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7033959089813489193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7033959089813489193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/because-we-all-like-to-be-pretty.html' title='Because we all like to be pretty!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SReKy_gts8I/AAAAAAAABOM/ob-952GrDhc/s72-c/currentcontest.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-1744470254399142375</id><published>2008-11-09T17:01:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T18:37:16.965-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Bullets 5</title><content type='html'>Yes, Sunday Bullets is back! I know you've missed it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I survived the Week of No Bubba 2008 and lived to tell about it! I cooked! I cleaned! I did laundry! I rocked a mean meatloaf! I am awesome! I like exclamation marks!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why must it be European-American? African-American? Drop the hyphens. Just be American. Be proud of your heritage, but just be American.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No, I don't feel any better about the election than I did last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got my flu shot this week. We get them free at work so after I picked up the kids at school on Tuesday, off we went. They were VERY excited to see mommy get a shot. (It's very unsettling, I must say. I've been sleeping with one eye open.)  Miss Shot-Giver, I believe, was showing off for them and punctured my arm so hard I almost yelped! I did, however, make a face which made the children laugh.  Don't worry...they'll get theirs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We haven't had heat since Tuesday. Fun times. The heating and cooling place came to inspect our furnace as we have them do every autumn because the furnace in this house is as old as Methuselah, as my mother would say. Well, it finally bit the dust. When I say bit the dust, I mean it has a large crack in the right heat exchanger and BY LAW(!) had to be shut off because it is unsafe to run.  OMG! Panic! Mayhem! Bubba out of town! HALP!&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, almost all of last week saw temperatures in the 70s so we were relatively comfortable.  Estimates for new furnace were gotten, turned in to landlord, discussed and landlord will talk to H&amp;amp;C place tomorrow.  Meanwhile, we are frozen solid. OK, not quite, but it IS freakin' cold! We have space heaters (I HATE kerosene heaters because they are both stinky and scary.) which I religiously monitor for any sign of catching fire.  We purposefully bake things so the kitchen stays warm. We take multiple hot showers so we can take advantage of the sauna-like conditions. We have blankets strategically placed throughout the house and around our bodies. We have layers of clothing on. We're good. No really. We're good.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Please to be bring new furnace tomorrow?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;What is this, like, the 5th blog post in 3 or 4 days for me? What's up with that?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do you follow people on &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/"&gt;Twitter&lt;/a&gt; who drive you so crazy you want to stab things and/or people?  I read their tweets and roll my eyes and scream, "OH WHATEVER! SHUT UP!" Yet I just can't quit them.  I'm not mentioning who those 2 or 3 people are. Not that it would matter because they don't follow me back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Here's a &lt;a href="http://craftastrophe.net/"&gt;blog I bookmarked this week.  &lt;/a&gt;I can't make it 2 or 3 posts without snorting and laughing until I cry. Thank you to &lt;a href="http://kentuckygurl.com/"&gt;Kentucky Girl&lt;/a&gt; for sharing the link on twitter. If I didn't stalk people there, I'd have never come across this hilarity! It's totally worth clicking. Click it! And make sure you read all the commentary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And so concludes this fifth installment of Sunday Bullets. Enjoy the following cuteness.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Oh...almost forgot. Good for Sarah Palin for calling out the cowardly jerks who anonymously came forth with stupid lies and tall tales about her after the election was over! You go girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRdwJzmFoUI/AAAAAAAABNs/PyPXh3LcdPA/s1600-h/3009542438_2f1e1411ef_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRdwJzmFoUI/AAAAAAAABNs/PyPXh3LcdPA/s400/3009542438_2f1e1411ef_b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266801603004178754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Braelyn really was having fun, though it doesn't seem so in this picture.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRdwvl3gLhI/AAAAAAAABN0/hVHCjgZD0w8/s1600-h/3009543420_555fec673a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRdwvl3gLhI/AAAAAAAABN0/hVHCjgZD0w8/s400/3009543420_555fec673a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266802252154154514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRdw7_fzKqI/AAAAAAAABN8/JbHuzZYVmsA/s1600-h/3009544008_ff92352744.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRdw7_fzKqI/AAAAAAAABN8/JbHuzZYVmsA/s400/3009544008_ff92352744.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266802465192487586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;That would be my son using a shovel to gather leaves.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-1744470254399142375?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/1744470254399142375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=1744470254399142375&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1744470254399142375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1744470254399142375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/sunday-bullets-5.html' title='Sunday Bullets 5'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRdwJzmFoUI/AAAAAAAABNs/PyPXh3LcdPA/s72-c/3009542438_2f1e1411ef_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-2700249277113385067</id><published>2008-11-09T14:46:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T15:19:38.869-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bubba'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='florida'/><title type='text'>How can he have been married to ME for 18 years and do THIS?</title><content type='html'>Bubba went to Florida for a week. Here are the &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;two &lt;/span&gt;photos that exist of him actually being in Florida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRc-jExT1jI/AAAAAAAABNc/eByCF-RnqrE/s1600-h/IMG_4458.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRc-jExT1jI/AAAAAAAABNc/eByCF-RnqrE/s320/IMG_4458.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266747061529990706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Note the palm trees which is proof, I guess.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRdBmOMyzcI/AAAAAAAABNk/aczS-MTx6YQ/s1600-h/IMG_4442.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRdBmOMyzcI/AAAAAAAABNk/aczS-MTx6YQ/s320/IMG_4442.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266750414135676354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I not taught him a thing about taking pictures? Not that &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; am ever in photos, but I'm just sayin'!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-2700249277113385067?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/2700249277113385067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=2700249277113385067&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2700249277113385067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2700249277113385067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/how-can-he-have-been-married-to-me-for.html' title='How can he have been married to ME for 18 years and do THIS?'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRc-jExT1jI/AAAAAAAABNc/eByCF-RnqrE/s72-c/IMG_4458.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-5327570719240271825</id><published>2008-11-08T09:36:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T20:03:21.384-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brianna'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scholarship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iupui'/><title type='text'>Uh oh. Wait. What?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRWm5aGawDI/AAAAAAAAA5g/KNexfdGb8X8/s1600-h/2502.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 160px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRWm5aGawDI/AAAAAAAAA5g/KNexfdGb8X8/s200/2502.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266298844468658226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember when I was all, "&lt;a href="http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/10/stay-in-school-kids.html" target="blank"&gt;$40,000! Woo hoo!&lt;/a&gt;"?  Yeah, so the other day, we get yet another letter from IUPUI saying, "Congratulations, Brianna! You have been awarded the Valedictorian/Salutatorian scholarship in the amount of $7,000 a year for four years." Um, what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A day or two later, we got a third letter (re)stating that she would receive $10,000 a year for four years. Again, I say, um, what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I immediately emailed the Office of Student Scholarships and explained the situation and asked them to straighten out the confusion and let us know the amount of Brianna's scholarship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am happy to report that the school got right back with me and Brianna will be receiving the $10,000 scholarship!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you hear that sound?  That's the sound of relief!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-5327570719240271825?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/5327570719240271825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=5327570719240271825&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5327570719240271825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5327570719240271825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/uh-oh-wait-what.html' title='Uh oh. Wait. What?'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRWm5aGawDI/AAAAAAAAA5g/KNexfdGb8X8/s72-c/2502.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-8825669951686733114</id><published>2008-11-07T11:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T12:04:44.728-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm in a mood today.</title><content type='html'>I'm in an "I don't give a crap what other people think" mood today. My last two posts would probably give you a heads-up on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Discovery Channel stuff. I love TLC and Discovery Health. But I won't be watching &lt;a href="http://health.discovery.com/tv/pregnant-man/pregnant-man.html" target="blank"&gt;THIS.&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did watch a part of The Crazy Loon Show (AKA Oprah) back when this woman was on. I was beyond speechless at that time. Now there's an entire documentary-ish-like show about the pregnancy and birth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world has gone completely MAD and I refuse to go with it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I have to say is, SHE is NOT a man if SHE had a baby. Stop calling HER a pregnant MAN.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-8825669951686733114?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/8825669951686733114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=8825669951686733114&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/8825669951686733114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/8825669951686733114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-in-mood-today.html' title='I&apos;m in a mood today.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-7379068901016301477</id><published>2008-11-07T07:55:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T12:24:47.160-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sarah palin'/><title type='text'>Nice. I love discussing these things first thing in the morning.</title><content type='html'>Something came on the news this morning about one of those "unnamed sources" bad mouthing Sarah Palin now that the presidential campaign is over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 7 year old daughter said, "Mommy, some people think Sarah Palin is stupid."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I explained to her that Sarah Palin is a very smart woman. I told her that in no way could she have become a mayor or governor and be stupid at the same time. I told her that people are mean. I told her that some people will say mean things so the candidate they like the most will win. I told her that none of the presidential candidates are stupid. That one can't be a governor or senator and be stupid. I said that everybody won't always agree with what the politicians say, but that in no way makes them stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "Wendy thinks Sarah Palin is stupid." (Wendy is the somewhat mean girl next door, who is 9.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Braelyn that Wendy most likely heard that from her parents or other adults. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "Uh huh! Yeah! Wendy said her mom and dad think Sarah Palin is stupid, too!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suggested that the next time Wendy mentioned something like that she should tell her that there is no way Sarah Palin could be stupid and be the Governor of a state or run for higher office for that matter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw her wheels turning. She said, "Yeah! I will!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS is exactly why politics and campaigns and mudslinging drives me up a wall. Kids are so impressionable.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm no feminist, but you'd better believe that my daughters know they are capable of succeeding in life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRREqtlT9jI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/_r87R2IjxDA/s1600-h/235-adn_photo_9.1225824244.standalone.prod_affiliate.7.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 245px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRREqtlT9jI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/_r87R2IjxDA/s320/235-adn_photo_9.1225824244.standalone.prod_affiliate.7.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265909364884239922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Girl can wear herself some jeans and a Carhart! :) &lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS read my No I Didn't post. It's all KINDS of fun and games!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-7379068901016301477?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/7379068901016301477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=7379068901016301477&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7379068901016301477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7379068901016301477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/nice-i-love-discussing-these-thing.html' title='Nice. I love discussing these things first thing in the morning.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRREqtlT9jI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/_r87R2IjxDA/s72-c/235-adn_photo_9.1225824244.standalone.prod_affiliate.7.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-5798798155809428214</id><published>2008-11-06T22:48:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T10:16:05.473-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='president'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mccain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='palin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='election'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='no i didn&apos;t'/><title type='text'>NO I DIDN'T!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRPrHr7WqiI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/G9WFfou9Lrk/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 199px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRPrHr7WqiI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/G9WFfou9Lrk/s200/untitled.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265810906609527330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No I Didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not vote for Obama. That's right. I said it. I am not ashamed. I don't feel empty inside. I feel proud that I voted with my head and my heart. I am proud to be a VERY conservative Republican. I'm one of those right-wingers which people like to make fun of. McCain wasn't even conservative enough for me, but he was the closest thing. At no time EVER did I even once consider voting for the so-far-left Obama. Why?  Because I was informed. It was a fully informed decision. I read up on Obama and McCain. A lot. A great big lot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leading up to the election, I knew. I knew that Obama was going to win. I prepared myself. I was OK with it. OK with it in the sense that I was accepting of the fact that he would win. I am not OK with him being the next president. That's right. I said that, too.  I. Am. Not. OK. With. It.  I can't change it. All I can do is hope that God has his hand in this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He will be 'the' president, but not 'my' president. Yes, that sounds a little bit like I'm stomping my feet because I didn't get my way. That is not it. Not at all. It was the same with Clinton. I loathed Clinton with everything in my being. For many, many, many reasons. None of them having to do with that stupid Lewinsky thing.(He was not MY president, either.) While I can't say that I loathe Obama, I am not drinking the kool-aid. I'm not on the bus. I will not participate in the love fest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of the &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/groups/messageforobama" target="blank"&gt;love fest&lt;/a&gt;.(and that is only part of it.)  Oh. My. God. I can hardly stomach it. I am watching and listening and reading and my mouth is hanging open. It's as if they are worshipping at the altar of Obama. That scares me to death. It's Oprah times 500. (Oprah is a crazy loon and that is a whole other post.)People are saying things like, "He makes me want to be a better person!" and "He makes me proud to be an American again!" Seriously? Seriously? No one besides Jesus has ever made me want to be a better person.  Plus, I've always been patriotic so I can't relate to being proud to be American AGAIN.  The president does NOT define me as an American. As I watch all of this, my mind keeps going to the 'Left Behind' series of books. Carpathia. Wolf in sheep's clothing. Charismatic man leading the world astray. That is what this all reminds me of. Ever since Tuesday night, I've had a sick, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's not the disappointment, though I certainly was disappointed. It's not 'boo hoo I didn't get my way.' It's fear. It's dread. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on to race. I want you to know that race has nothing at all to do with my feelings. I came from a racist home, but I am not racist. I think it's a great thing that a black man could be elected president, however, that shouldn't have been &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;THE &lt;/span&gt;reason. I've heard people around me say it. There have been people interviewed in newspapers and on TV who have pretty much summed it up with, 'because I want a black president.'  How can that be the only reason? Voting for him just because he is black is just as racist as someone not voting for him because he's black. My frustration level with this is at it's peak. Seriously with the &lt;a href="http://michellemalkin.com/2008/11/06/new-national-anthem-my-president-is-black/" target="blank"&gt;my president is black stuff??&lt;/a&gt;  I just want to say, 'No sh**, Sherlock."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indiana ended up 'going blue' on election night and that made me sad. I loved being a part of a red state. But that's ok. I'll happily be a red dot in a blue state. (I was VERY happy that Indiana re-elected our governor, though. That is a very good thing!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't stomach television on the night of the election, but since then I've watched the news and clips of election night elsewhere. I've got to tell you, watching all these little bitty kids jumping up and down and cheering kind of turned me off. I have a 5 and 7 year old. They knew of the election. They knew that daddy was going to vote for "Orock Obama" and mommy was voting for McCain. We talked about it a lot. The 7 year old talked about it at school, too. They went to bed before the results came in. The woke up the next morning and asked who won. They felt sorry for McCain and happy for Obama. Then, they went about their 5 and 7 year old lives. I didn't put them in t-shirts that said McCain/Palin. I didn't make them wear buttons. They didn't cheer or dance.  They are little kids. As they get older, they will know plenty about elections and government and all that. For now, they are kids. Happy-go-lucky kids. I want them to stay that way a while longer. So, more power to you if you involved your little bitties more than that. It's not MY cup of tea. (However, they were very much involved in the 'Sign Wars of 2008.' That was just silly fun. They just wanted to hide the signs from mommy/daddy in a better place each time. It was more hide and seek than political anything.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, before everybody touts Obama as some big hero, he needs to get into office and do his job. Period. After 4 years, then MAYBE you can call him a hero. After 4 years, MAYBE you can compare him to other great presidents, but not before he's done an ounce of work. He has said he's going to do lots of things. You know what? He probably will do some of them. I doubt he will do what many people are expecting. You know what else? I never expected McCain to do everything he said either. They are POLITICIANS. They tell taller tales than anyone else in the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before you tell me that I am hating, I'll beg to differ right now. I don't trust Obama. That's the bottom line. As my online friend, &lt;a href="http://www.concrete-angel.com/" target="blank"&gt;Salena&lt;/a&gt; said, he has a majority of America hoodwinked. I sincerely believe that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, wouldn't it have been fun for McCain to win, if only to witness the mass exodus to Canada/Europe of the Democrats! (yeah, right) That was so old and tired during the campaign season. "If McCain wins, I'm leaving the country!!" Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do know this. I don't ever want to hear or use the words 'hope' or 'change' ever again. Yes, there's some snark in that statement, but there is sincere truth, too. &lt;br /&gt;I was never more sick of two words in my life than I was during this campaign. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something I forgot to mention-- I was very happy with the high voter turnout. It should ALWAYS be like that. Always. Voting is something one shouldn't ever take for granted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more thing. The way Sarah Palin was treated during the campaign was completely and utterly ridiculous. The way she is being tossed under the bus after the election is beyond disgusting. It's a good thing she is a strong woman. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I've forgotten some of what I had planned to say, but I'll just leave it at what I've already said. I don't apologize for my feelings and beliefs. I put this out there because I had to get it off my chest. I love my blog and love being able to post whatever I feel like posting. If you don't agree with me, that's alright. You are allowed. You have the right. If you dish it out, I can take it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God help us all for the next 4 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NO. I. DIDN'T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-5798798155809428214?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/5798798155809428214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=5798798155809428214&amp;isPopup=true' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5798798155809428214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5798798155809428214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/no-i-didnt.html' title='NO I DIDN&apos;T!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SRPrHr7WqiI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/G9WFfou9Lrk/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-3292639345428738540</id><published>2008-11-01T21:36:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T22:02:30.839-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='halloween 2008'/><title type='text'>If it's November first, it must be a Halloween post!</title><content type='html'>Oh! Hey! Yesterday was my blog birthday. Happy blogging birthday to me! I've officially been blogging for 4 years. Go me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I think that last night may have been one of only 2 times we've ever trick or treated without Bubba. That makes me sad. But, we did have fun! Brianna and Jeremy dressed up as Sweeny Todd and Mrs. Lovett and walked around with the little kids and me. Jameson was an 'army guy' and Braelyn was Super Girl. Unfortunately, &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/angiedi70/1813841940/in/photostream/" target="blank"&gt;no fun and unique, homemade-by-Bubba costumes this year.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I was off work yesterday, I was able to get the kids from school and then have plenty of time to get them all ready before trick or treating started at 5pm. (WAY too early! When I was little, we did NOT start that early!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started by visiting my parents then walked around their neighborhood. Went to another neighborhood where we go every year where we began our trek by seeing a dead kitten on the side of the road. Nice. Before the night ended we headed to Brianna's boyfriend's neighborhood. And then my ankles gave out and they had all had to drag me back to the van. Or something like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended the night at Taco Bell then went home so the kids could sort out their candy and go to bed with an extreme sugar high.  No middle of the night puking, either! Bonus!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only got a few photos on Brianna's digital camera since SOMEBODY took my camera to Florida with him. *cough*bubba*cough* Otherwise, I took several photos on my film camera which I will get developed sometime in July of 2010.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SQ0H6p_14sI/AAAAAAAAA44/qt9lGmu9J8g/s1600-h/100_6783.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SQ0H6p_14sI/AAAAAAAAA44/qt9lGmu9J8g/s320/100_6783.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263872243753411266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SQ0IgK2cNCI/AAAAAAAAA5A/CN-vmzbiGJs/s1600-h/2990256053_be78829308.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 243px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SQ0IgK2cNCI/AAAAAAAAA5A/CN-vmzbiGJs/s320/2990256053_be78829308.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263872888227509282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SQ0JruZlmoI/AAAAAAAAA5I/LkDhzhaYdtA/s1600-h/2991112320_5216016ec7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SQ0JruZlmoI/AAAAAAAAA5I/LkDhzhaYdtA/s320/2991112320_5216016ec7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263874186260355714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;His legs were tired so he was taking a rest. In. The. Street.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-3292639345428738540?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/3292639345428738540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=3292639345428738540&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/3292639345428738540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/3292639345428738540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/11/if-its-november-first-it-must-be.html' title='If it&apos;s November first, it must be a Halloween post!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SQ0H6p_14sI/AAAAAAAAA44/qt9lGmu9J8g/s72-c/100_6783.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-5375032094535641303</id><published>2008-10-14T15:53:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T16:41:37.480-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Proud to be an Amreican!</title><content type='html'>While driving to work over the weekend, I saw a sign with an obvious misspelling so yesterday morning, I took my camera with me so I could capture it forever on my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPT5ziJ_knI/AAAAAAAAA3w/LdVnUQTYD8I/s1600-h/IMG_4124.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPT5ziJ_knI/AAAAAAAAA3w/LdVnUQTYD8I/s320/IMG_4124.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257101328785576562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. Maybe it's just me, but I'm thinking that I would check and recheck any sign I was putting up for the general public to read. Also, that's a pretty important word, don't ya think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other patriotic news, I finally got my McCain/Palin sign for the yard! And when I say I, I mean Bubba went and got it for me. Because he is such a funny man, he came in and got me and told me he'd put my sign up.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Be sure to click so you can enjoy the visual aids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPUCC_9jkMI/AAAAAAAAA34/hcFuHMbDtgk/s1600-h/IMG_4129.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPUCC_9jkMI/AAAAAAAAA34/hcFuHMbDtgk/s320/IMG_4129.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257110390577533122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;The 'blatant eyesore' is an old mailbox post that hasn't been pulled out of the yard yet.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That situation has been remedied, though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPUCeUkT0MI/AAAAAAAAA4A/vKcdpiMYrrE/s1600-h/IMG_4130.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPUCeUkT0MI/AAAAAAAAA4A/vKcdpiMYrrE/s320/IMG_4130.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257110859965255874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Yes, we need to mow and weed-whack.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure I'm not going to know ANYTHING when Bubba gets home tonight and the Obama sign is replaced with another McCain sign.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-5375032094535641303?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/5375032094535641303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=5375032094535641303&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5375032094535641303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5375032094535641303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/10/proud-to-be-amreican.html' title='Proud to be an Amreican!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPT5ziJ_knI/AAAAAAAAA3w/LdVnUQTYD8I/s72-c/IMG_4124.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-5528576553368524172</id><published>2008-10-12T20:38:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T23:14:38.150-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Bullets Quatre</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;My baby lost his first tooth this week. And then my heart broke. He's just a BABY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPKbH8vhfgI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/sGsIr_6XKh0/s1600-h/IMG_4114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPKbH8vhfgI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/sGsIr_6XKh0/s200/IMG_4114.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256434275961634306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Speaking of my baby, he has really been into his blocks lately and builds stuff all the time. He often sings while building and last night? This is what he was singing--"If you like pina coladas, and gettin caught in the rain..." Yep.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love &lt;a href="http://www.hulu.com/"&gt;hulu&lt;/a&gt;. (don't click or you may become addicted!) Especially for the News Radio.  Oh, and Chicago Hope! (Oh how I've missed Dr Geiger walking around his office in his boxers!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I think I have my husband guilted into going to the Republican headquarters to get me a &lt;a href="http://www.goptrunk.com/ProductDetails.asp?ProductCode=YSR4023&amp;amp;Redirected=Y"&gt;yard sign&lt;/a&gt;.   Even though he swears he is going to sandwich it between two '&lt;a href="http://www.democraticstuff.com/ProductDetails.asp?ProductCode=YS23239&amp;amp;Click=37298&amp;amp;gclid=CIbrwZmXo5YCFQNaFQod8VY76Q"&gt;bin laden&lt;/a&gt;' signs. I'm sure the neighbors will have fun watching us chase each other around the yard trying to one up each other with the best spot for our sign.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My brain is mush. I can't even remember the things I was going to bullet tonight. I'll blog more this week. I promise!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-5528576553368524172?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/5528576553368524172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=5528576553368524172&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5528576553368524172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5528576553368524172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/10/sunday-bullets-quatre.html' title='Sunday Bullets Quatre'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPKbH8vhfgI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/sGsIr_6XKh0/s72-c/IMG_4114.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-7169085126214609441</id><published>2008-10-11T06:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T06:41:43.789-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This is controversial?</title><content type='html'>Why is &lt;a href="http://omg.yahoo.com/news/angelina-brad-changed-my-mind-about-getting-pregnant/14041?nc"&gt;THIS&lt;/a&gt; photo &lt;a href="http://omg.yahoo.com/news/jolie-apparently-breastfeeding-on-w-magazine-cover/14027?nc"&gt;causing a stir?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see way more boob on the covers of about 50 other magazines at the grocery store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world has gone mad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-7169085126214609441?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/7169085126214609441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=7169085126214609441&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7169085126214609441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7169085126214609441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-is-controversial.html' title='This is controversial?'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-6509979515555041563</id><published>2008-10-01T19:22:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T21:26:19.662-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay in school, kids!</title><content type='html'>This is a 'my kid is awesome' kind of post, so be warned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I have to say that I completely forgot to blog about my oldest daughter, Brianna, being accepted to &lt;a href="http://www.iupui.edu/"&gt;IUPUI&lt;/a&gt; for next year. (She's a senior in high school right now.)  IUPUI is her first choice because they have her major, which is not quite as a popular as, say, elementary ed or something like that. Her major is Tourism, Conventions and Event Management. She'd like to be an event coordinator and maybe do some wedding planning on the side.  Anyway, IUPUI has a good program so she applied and got in. I didn't think there'd be any question, anyway, because she is on track to be one of the valedictorians of her class this year. A couple of weeks ago, she got her acceptance letter and she was happy and so were we.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brianna is extremely organized and she has really taken the bull by the horns when it comes to applying for college and scholarships, etc. She has done every last bit of it and I haven't had to do anything. (It's a good thing, because I am NOT the organized type. Not at all.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to yesterday. Brianna got a packet in the mail which looked exactly like her acceptance package.   It was a usual afternoon in our house with the kids making noise and Jeremy (the boyfriend) hanging out and just whatever.  Brianna was opening her mail and all of the sudden she SCREAMS and says, "I got the scholarship! The Valedictorian scholarship!"  So we all run to her and there may have been dancing and singing, not sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Valedictorian scholarship is... $40,000!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SOQaqayfVfI/AAAAAAAAA20/8oIZCFh88YM/s1600-h/scan0023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SOQaqayfVfI/AAAAAAAAA20/8oIZCFh88YM/s320/scan0023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252352381468759538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I KNOW! I couldn't believe it either!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, here's our dilemma. How the H are we going to pay for housing??  Well, Brianna is also part of the&lt;a href="http://www.in.gov/ssaci/2345.htm"&gt; 21st Century Scholars&lt;/a&gt; program.  Now, if the scholarship can be applied to housing also, 21st Century Scholars will cover the remainder of the tuition. Cross your fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my kid is awesome! See?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SOQjIxuSw1I/AAAAAAAAA28/2AcqHVO3Rv8/s1600-h/brikai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SOQjIxuSw1I/AAAAAAAAA28/2AcqHVO3Rv8/s320/brikai.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252361699114271570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-6509979515555041563?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/6509979515555041563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=6509979515555041563&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6509979515555041563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6509979515555041563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/10/stay-in-school-kids.html' title='Stay in school, kids!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SOQaqayfVfI/AAAAAAAAA20/8oIZCFh88YM/s72-c/scan0023.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-38660955349206518</id><published>2008-09-28T20:30:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T23:40:30.645-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bullets'/><title type='text'>Sunday Bullets 3</title><content type='html'>Because I can't be bothered to blog during the week, obviously, I'm indulging in bullets again.  Here are some things I've seen, heard, thought and done lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I found &lt;a href="http://www.kookyliberals.com/sarah-palin/sarah-palin-corn-maze/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; quite funny.  There is just nothing out there that somebody won't do. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://bitsandpieces.us/wp-content/uploads/2008/03/imagesbroc-20obama.jpg"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt; make me giggle every time I see it. And it has nothing to do with me being a conservative. I just find the picture funny. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My friend Laura sent this picture to me as she knows I am a Sarah Palin fan.  Laura's daughter Maybree must have different feelings.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SOAqglg-DXI/AAAAAAAAA2s/fPxj2uPrdSY/s1600-h/palinscribble.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SOAqglg-DXI/AAAAAAAAA2s/fPxj2uPrdSY/s200/palinscribble.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251243904828575090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It's never a bad time to watch &lt;a href="http://www.funnyhub.com/videos/pages/snl-more-cowbell.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. No matter if people say it too much, that skit will always be funny!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.80smusicvids.com/"&gt;THIS&lt;/a&gt; is for my fellow lovers of the 80s!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.centurynovelty.com/detail_168_400-010.html"&gt;Vanilla Tootsie Rolls&lt;/a&gt; rock!  I freely admit to sifting through my kids' parade and halloween candy and hording them for myself! What they don't know while they sleep will never hurt them.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Will Smith turned 40 this week. I was all, OMG he's getting old! Then I realized that I will be 38 in November. 40 isn't really old at all. Not. At. All.  When I was 18, though, 40 was a senior citizen! 40 is the new 30 so I will really only be 28 in November.  See how that works?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If you live in IN (or CO, FL, OH, PA or VA) you can only register to vote until next Monday. Otherwise, you are SOL on November 4th. Get registered!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Because a presidential candidate won't appear on a talk show I'm supposed to be all upset? I don't think so, Dave. I personally don't need or want to see any of the candidates on comedy talk shows.  Some people around 'teh internets' were all, 'Oh hell yeah! Letterman rips McCain a new one! Rock ON!' Whatever, dudes.  I'm over the trash talk. I'm now just counting down the days 'til the election.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Friday, I took the kids to their big sister's high school homecoming parade.  They had a good time and got a little bit of candy. We were lucky enough to stand by a group of parents with kids who chose to stand about 4 feet into the street and the adults ran around picking up all the candy for their kids. AND, one of the parents practically tackled the people who were giving out Ice Pops. It was annoying and just..annoying. Bunch of mooches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Friday night we went to the football game. We only stayed until after the half-time activities because it was windy and cold and mama didn't bring a jacket. I don't know about anyone else, but back in the 80s at my high school, homecoming was not a formal affair! It's just so weird to me that it has become so now. High heels and dresses that could pass for prom attire. Back in the day, the Queen and court candidates wore sweaters and jeans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Saturday morning we were up bright and early for the Ball State homecoming parade.  The kids got tons of candy. (and I've already picked out the vanilla tootsie rolls!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;And, I guess that's it for now. I'll try to do some actual blogging this week but I can't promise anything. Have a good week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-38660955349206518?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/38660955349206518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=38660955349206518&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/38660955349206518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/38660955349206518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/09/sunday-bullets-3.html' title='Sunday Bullets 3'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SOAqglg-DXI/AAAAAAAAA2s/fPxj2uPrdSY/s72-c/palinscribble.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-1611436131118105704</id><published>2008-09-23T18:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T19:06:03.024-04:00</updated><title type='text'>They should rename it "DUH! Magazine"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SNlxHmdFcuI/AAAAAAAAA2k/-6mkpp0SbbU/s1600-h/peopleclay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SNlxHmdFcuI/AAAAAAAAA2k/-6mkpp0SbbU/s320/peopleclay.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249351216072585954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, who cares? And? That is one cute baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. And when I say who cares, I mean, who cares whether he, or any other celeb is gay or straight??  Jeez... If I were a Clay fan, which I am not, I'd still be a fan no matter. Like, if Matthew McConaughey were gay, I'd still find him SMOKING hot! See how that works? Who cares??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-1611436131118105704?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/1611436131118105704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=1611436131118105704&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1611436131118105704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1611436131118105704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/09/they-should-rename-it-duh-magazine.html' title='They should rename it &quot;DUH! Magazine&quot;'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SNlxHmdFcuI/AAAAAAAAA2k/-6mkpp0SbbU/s72-c/peopleclay.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-4066817913742305007</id><published>2008-09-21T10:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T12:32:02.451-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bullets'/><title type='text'>Sunday Bullets</title><content type='html'>Does two Sundays in a row make this a regular feature on my blog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm watching "&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=8934788"&gt;Bridge to Terabithia&lt;/a&gt;" and I like it about 10 times more than &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Chronicles_of_Narnia"&gt;Narnia&lt;/a&gt;.  But, come to think of it, I really didn't like Narnia much at all.  If I were 15 years old, I'd totally have a crush on the boy in the lead role. As it is, I am too old and I do not. Because that would be creepy and gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;One of the coolest things ever? &lt;a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3265/2875828434_81593530fa.jpg"&gt;Curved shower curtain rods&lt;/a&gt;. Seriously, we just got one and last night I felt like I was in a giant, luxurious shower! So cool! (I don't get out much.)  Oh, and I guess they are actually called &lt;a href="http://www.signaturehardware.com/class224"&gt;Crescent Rods&lt;/a&gt;. Whatever.  You MUST get one if you don't have one already!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm going to a wedding shower later for one of my co-worker/friends. We're getting together at Johnny Carino's. Yum.  Bread and oil, bowtie festival and cannoli here I come! It's no wonder I 'can't' lose weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Last week's Sunday Bullets brought out at least one foolish anonymous commenter.  Wonder what I can say this time to bring out the fun?  How about this? I think &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=US8UUC0lEzI"&gt;Sandra Bernhard is an idiot&lt;/a&gt;. The end. Amen.  ( &lt;a href="http://dizzy-girl.net/?p=1580"&gt;Dizzy Girl&lt;/a&gt; said it in a much more awesome way than I ever could.) No matter the politics, people. No matter.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My good friend, &lt;a href="http://slimtainment.com/idolblog/"&gt;Slim&lt;/a&gt;, and his wife Milissa had their baby this week! (Milissa did all the work, of course.) Congratulations and welcome to the world, &lt;a href="http://slimtainment.com/idolblog/?p=2085"&gt;Gracie Lee&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Um, in TV news, &lt;a href="http://popwatch.ew.com/popwatch/2008/09/bb-10-winner-da.html?iid=top25-20080918-%27Big+Brother+10%27+winner+Dan+Gheesling+on+house+hygiene%2C+the+Judas+comment%2C+and+his+future+plans"&gt;Dan&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; did&lt;/span&gt; win BB10&lt;/a&gt; (yay!) and The Biggest Loser did not disappoint. I cried through the whole dang thing.  The life of a fat girl is Kuh-RAZY, huh?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've got a memorial service to go to tomorrow. A co-worker's mother died early Friday morning.  Very sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Galaxy Glue, Galaxy Glue! What would we do without Galaxy Glue?! Yes, I was just watching &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Incredible_Shrinking_Woman"&gt;that movie&lt;/a&gt;. (With distractions and such, it takes me a LONG time to do a post.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go Colts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-4066817913742305007?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/4066817913742305007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=4066817913742305007&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4066817913742305007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4066817913742305007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/09/sunday-bullets_21.html' title='Sunday Bullets'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-5744601461580108807</id><published>2008-09-20T16:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T16:29:23.209-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jameson'/><title type='text'>What'd you say? I can't hear you!</title><content type='html'>This past Monday, I had to work at 6am so I wasn't able to see the kids off to school. I got home and saw Jameson's winter coat lying by the door. Now, mind you, it was cool Monday morning. I think it was in the 50s, but certainly not winter coat weather. So, I asked him if he'd worn it to school and he confirmed my suspicion. Silly boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A day or two later, they were getting ready to leave for school and I told him to get a jacket, but NOT his winter coat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jameson: "OK, Mommy. I don't like to wear my winter coat to school anyway."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Why not?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jameson: "Because I can't hear on the monkey bars."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: **blink blink**  "Um, what?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jameson: "I can't hear on the monkey bars!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then he demonstrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SNVcxGvxp0I/AAAAAAAAA2c/wJI4RRTHXwY/s1600-h/IMG_3527.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SNVcxGvxp0I/AAAAAAAAA2c/wJI4RRTHXwY/s320/IMG_3527.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248202939464525634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jameson: "Everything sounds like mmfmphmmm."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not argue with that reasoning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-5744601461580108807?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/5744601461580108807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=5744601461580108807&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5744601461580108807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5744601461580108807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/09/whatd-you-say-i-cant-hear-you.html' title='What&apos;d you say? I can&apos;t hear you!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SNVcxGvxp0I/AAAAAAAAA2c/wJI4RRTHXwY/s72-c/IMG_3527.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-6598831108788006145</id><published>2008-09-14T15:15:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T16:49:34.043-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='colts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bullets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bb10'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the biggest loser'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Sunday bullets</title><content type='html'>I've got nothing worthy of an entire post so what better way to fill a post than with BULLETS?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have to work early tomorrow because my co-worker has to have her 18 year-old cat put to sleep. That really sucks. (the thing about the cat, not about having to work early.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The &lt;a href="http://www.colts.com/"&gt;Colts&lt;/a&gt; are NOT having a good game today. At least they scored.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am craving...something. I'm just not sure what that something is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I really want all the political bullsh** to stop. And I am not talking about the bullsh** from the candidates. I'm talking about mean people online.  Yes, I will gladly tell you &lt;a href="http://www.johnmccain.com/"&gt;who I will vote for, &lt;/a&gt;but I will not sit here and say horrible demeaning things about the other guys. I might tell you why I vote the way I do but I won't tell you why &lt;a href="http://my.barackobama.com/"&gt;the other guys&lt;/a&gt; are so 'horrible.'  I won't continue to go on and on and on about how 'scary' the other ones are. Mainly because I don't find any of them to be scary. They are just politicians. All politicians lie in some way shape or form. Deal with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I really need a McCain/Palin sign for my yard. Even though Bubba laughs at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I hope &lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/big_brother/bio/dan_10/bio.php"&gt;Dan&lt;/a&gt; wins &lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/big_brother/"&gt;BB10&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No good TV premieres this week except &lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/The_Biggest_Loser/"&gt;The Biggest Loser&lt;/a&gt; which I will watch and then cry and then get depressed.  I am a glutton for punishment.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've got nothing else, right now.  Everybody have a good week!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Edited to add&lt;/span&gt;: The Colts won!! Yee Ha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-6598831108788006145?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/6598831108788006145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=6598831108788006145&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6598831108788006145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6598831108788006145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/09/sunday-bullets.html' title='Sunday bullets'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-4432841037204695252</id><published>2008-09-13T16:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T17:28:33.381-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Beyond ridiculous</title><content type='html'>I'm a simple girl. I don't wear heels. (they hurt!) I don't wear much jewelry. (too poor!)  I think the trend of expensive shoes/purses/jeans etc. is stupid. If I can't get it for a cheap price at Wal-Mart or some place similar, I don't buy it. I don't buy expensive make-up or hair products. I don't get nails put on or my hair colored. (I know. Poor Bubba! lol)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same with my kids. They each look nice in what they wear, but I certainly don't go to great lengths to clothe them in crazy expensive designer labels. While my kids may find that cruel at some point, that is the way it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find some kids' obsession with 'things' at young ages to be very sad. So many parents are raising spoiled brats and little girls who think they deserve everything they want because they are PRINCESSES and I want it now and I want a golden egg, daddy! Veruca Salt, all of them! Of course, there is nothing I can do about other people's children, so I just try to keep my kids grounded and appreciative of what they do have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier, I was looking for something else online and came across probably the most ridiculous thing I've seen in at LEAST a week! (Let's face it, there is a lot of ridiculous stuff out there, right?) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm, as usual, coming in late with this, but look at these...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMwqdi_pe7I/AAAAAAAAA2U/Qt5lkqz7W34/s1600-h/heelarious.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMwqdi_pe7I/AAAAAAAAA2U/Qt5lkqz7W34/s320/heelarious.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245614353078123442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are called, "Heelarious," tagline "Her first high heels." And they are for babies. And it's not a joke. And real mothers are putting these on real babies. Not for Halloween. And they cost $35! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who can I smack?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't usually get on my high horse about things. But this is annoying me in so many different ways, I can hardly stand it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To see more about these shoes, go &lt;a href="http://www.heelarious.com/index.php" target="blank"&gt;HERE for their home page&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://www.nypost.com/seven/06212008/news/regionalnews/for_well_heeled_fashionable_tots_116508.htm" target="blank"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/newsbeat/hi/newsbeat/newsid_7470000/7470077.stm" target="blank"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt; for a couple of news stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before you start beating me up in the comments, I do find these funny. Mostly, funny looking. Perhaps even acceptable as a gag gift.  Otherwise, ridiculous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-4432841037204695252?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/4432841037204695252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=4432841037204695252&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4432841037204695252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4432841037204695252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/09/beyond-ridiculous.html' title='Beyond ridiculous'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMwqdi_pe7I/AAAAAAAAA2U/Qt5lkqz7W34/s72-c/heelarious.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-3339508000317098828</id><published>2008-09-11T05:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T05:52:49.616-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Remember</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMjqaf-UxXI/AAAAAAAAA2M/RpgtmAf8q-E/s1600-h/worldtradecenterswithflag.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMjqaf-UxXI/AAAAAAAAA2M/RpgtmAf8q-E/s320/worldtradecenterswithflag.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244699507053348210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-3339508000317098828?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/3339508000317098828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=3339508000317098828&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/3339508000317098828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/3339508000317098828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/09/remember.html' title='Remember'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMjqaf-UxXI/AAAAAAAAA2M/RpgtmAf8q-E/s72-c/worldtradecenterswithflag.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-97846998785150155</id><published>2008-09-08T19:30:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T20:05:21.308-04:00</updated><title type='text'>18</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMW81MHiblI/AAAAAAAAA1k/wGUwocE0DeA/s1600-h/scan0003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMW81MHiblI/AAAAAAAAA1k/wGUwocE0DeA/s320/scan0003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243804963114741330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMW9aUNI9xI/AAAAAAAAA18/ZDzP9e9k19w/s1600-h/scan0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMW9aUNI9xI/AAAAAAAAA18/ZDzP9e9k19w/s320/scan0001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243805600940881682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMW9kaHj0mI/AAAAAAAAA2E/E6y7KDjPbDM/s1600-h/scan0002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMW9kaHj0mI/AAAAAAAAA2E/E6y7KDjPbDM/s320/scan0002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243805774326780514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-97846998785150155?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/97846998785150155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=97846998785150155&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/97846998785150155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/97846998785150155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/09/18-years-of-bliss.html' title='18'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMW81MHiblI/AAAAAAAAA1k/wGUwocE0DeA/s72-c/scan0003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-7578788686498061950</id><published>2008-09-05T20:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T20:37:40.064-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My stomach hurts from laughing.</title><content type='html'>I was &lt;a href="http://www.stumbleupon.com/" target="blank"&gt;Stumbling Upon&lt;/a&gt; and I came across &lt;a href="http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/" target="blank"&gt;THIS SITE&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't stop until I'd seen every single post and every single photo. By the time I made it back to the first post, I was laughing so hard, my kids were yelling at me to "Stop laughing, Mommy!" and saying, "What's so funny, mommy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just had to share. Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-7578788686498061950?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/7578788686498061950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=7578788686498061950&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7578788686498061950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7578788686498061950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-stomach-hurts-from-laughing.html' title='My stomach hurts from laughing.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-4737978121251306364</id><published>2008-09-04T19:43:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T22:30:16.602-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The QUEEN of irrelevant bloggers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMB5Oej_NCI/AAAAAAAAA1M/G5SkwnAOtMI/s1600-h/the-dark-knight-characters_472x312.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMB5Oej_NCI/AAAAAAAAA1M/G5SkwnAOtMI/s320/the-dark-knight-characters_472x312.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242323255888393250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm always a day late and a dollar short with EVERYTHING. Case in point, I JUST saw The Dark Knight this past Saturday.  There isn't anything I can say about the movie that probably hasn't already been said, but guess what? I'm gonna say it anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Heath Ledger? BRILLIANT. I know, everybody has already said this. But I can't help but to concur! I don't normally get all ga ga over someone's acting, but seriously mad brilliance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is entirely too little Joker in the movie. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Batman's voice is so over-the-top incredibly goofy that I had to stifle laughter every time he spoke.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;While I like Maggie Gyllenhaal in general, I don't think she had ANY chemistry with Batman OR Harvey Dent. Or should I say, Christian Bale and Aaron Eckhart.  I didn't buy the 'torn between two lovers' thing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I found the Two-Face storyline rushed and also unnecessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There was really only one scene which I thought dragged a little.  Otherwise, I didn't notice the length of the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I totally want to see the movie again.  And again. If for nothing else than the Joker scenes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;See the movie. It's awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could TOTALLY be a movie reviewer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMCZqBeng2I/AAAAAAAAA1c/y_WIrZHqI9g/s1600-h/dark_knight_thejoker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMCZqBeng2I/AAAAAAAAA1c/y_WIrZHqI9g/s320/dark_knight_thejoker.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242358913489666914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-4737978121251306364?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/4737978121251306364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=4737978121251306364&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4737978121251306364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4737978121251306364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/09/queen-of-irrelevant-bloggers.html' title='The QUEEN of irrelevant bloggers'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SMB5Oej_NCI/AAAAAAAAA1M/G5SkwnAOtMI/s72-c/the-dark-knight-characters_472x312.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-7923470283104705741</id><published>2008-09-03T23:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T00:10:17.965-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I like her</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SL9XqGThxmI/AAAAAAAAA1E/NpqoLi4SrjI/s1600-h/ap_PALIN3_080903_mn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SL9XqGThxmI/AAAAAAAAA1E/NpqoLi4SrjI/s400/ap_PALIN3_080903_mn.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242004872041186914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't listen to political speeches. Ever. I listened to Sarah Palin speak tonight. I like her. A lot. She speaks well, is confident and smart and is not backing down from the meanie pants naysayers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, she's beautiful, has beautiful kids and a hot husband. (See? I am so in tune with what matters most!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just saw a "Breaking News" thing and it said, "Obama's camp says Palin's speech was written by Pres Bush's writers!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um, and?  That's breaking news?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm done until election day. Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-7923470283104705741?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/7923470283104705741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=7923470283104705741&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7923470283104705741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7923470283104705741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-like-her.html' title='I like her'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SL9XqGThxmI/AAAAAAAAA1E/NpqoLi4SrjI/s72-c/ap_PALIN3_080903_mn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-6347684008882806461</id><published>2008-08-30T13:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T13:45:56.421-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cool</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLmHMwT3LUI/AAAAAAAAA0k/fHRvYQenxpE/s1600-h/sarahp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLmHMwT3LUI/AAAAAAAAA0k/fHRvYQenxpE/s400/sarahp.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240368294618672450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I have to say about that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-6347684008882806461?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/6347684008882806461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=6347684008882806461&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6347684008882806461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6347684008882806461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/08/cool.html' title='Cool'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLmHMwT3LUI/AAAAAAAAA0k/fHRvYQenxpE/s72-c/sarahp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-8564288573069324797</id><published>2008-08-29T21:37:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T10:45:02.324-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh no she DI'NT!</title><content type='html'>So, it's Friday and with Friday comes laziness and weekend celebration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McDonald's for dinner!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little kids and I piled in the van and headed on over to the golden arches to wait in line at the drive-thru.  There were only a couple of cars ahead of me and as we inched closer, I would be next at the speaker.  Apparently, I didn't inch fast enough and let my drive-thru guard down and this car appears from the back entrance to McDonald's and slides her car nose in front of me at a strange awkward angle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh NO she DI'NT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lady, don't get between me and my hot McDonald's french fries on a Friday night!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The driver and passenger looked at each other and just died laughing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now let me just say right now that I am a generally passive person. I'm patient and very willing to let the other car go first at a 4 way stop or while trying to get out of the school parking lot, etc. However, I was NOT in the mood! Had she pulled up and made any indication to ASK if she could go in front of me, well, I would have been nice and let her in. Ya know, I would have given her 'the nod' or 'the wave.' But, oh no! So I was ready to THROW DOWN right there in the parking lot! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a dang good thing I had my kids with me! She's lucky!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I made some exaggerated laughing face and said some stupid words like "rude" and "funny" so she could read my lips. As if she cared. She was probably about 22 or 23 as was her passenger. But the kicker was her baby standing up in the back seat! The little girl was probably about 18 months old and was standing! So, I'm saying stuff like "put your baby in it's car seat" as if she can hear me, because, don't mess with me! I'm a rebel! And I wasn't in the mood!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, of course I inched as close to her car as I could as she straightened out and got to the speaker to literally scream her order. I'm pretty sure the whole neighborhood heard her.  I continued to just stare menacingly at her through her rearview mirror and side mirror all the way through the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she got to the food window, she waved at the kid inside no less than 2 times to get more dipping sauce or ketchup or whatever and she didn't even look at me again before she drove off! Psh.  Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you can't quite picture how it all went down, just check this out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click to see it bigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLlb-iaAd3I/AAAAAAAAA0c/NAGN-Eb9txI/s1600-h/mcds.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLlb-iaAd3I/AAAAAAAAA0c/NAGN-Eb9txI/s320/mcds.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240320771368187762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;The ACTUAL McDonald's where the 'altercation' took place!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't visual aids fun??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story?  Don't mess with a big girl and her fries!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-8564288573069324797?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/8564288573069324797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=8564288573069324797&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/8564288573069324797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/8564288573069324797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-no-she-dint.html' title='Oh no she DI&apos;NT!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLlb-iaAd3I/AAAAAAAAA0c/NAGN-Eb9txI/s72-c/mcds.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-7075165593465366907</id><published>2008-08-29T17:28:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T18:02:07.450-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pink is the new "never again, mommy"</title><content type='html'>In all the hubbub of the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2ND COMING&lt;/span&gt;....er... the freakin' DNC and Obama's speech (which I didn't listen to for one second, thank you)... I forgot to tell you all about my shining parenting moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday evening as I was making these...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLhsf8aMt7I/AAAAAAAAA0I/6_kJaFHb2UU/s1600-h/IMG_3400.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLhsf8aMt7I/AAAAAAAAA0I/6_kJaFHb2UU/s320/IMG_3400.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240057462493329330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...Jameson came to me and said, "Mommy, do you know who put out that pink shirt for me to wear to school today?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, crap. It was me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why, Buddy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who was it because I have to tell them something."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Go ahead and tell mommy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Today, at the end of the day, some boys said, "You're wearing a pink shirt! You're wearing a pink shirt!" **in a sing-song make-fun-of-way**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my heart broke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't want to wear it to school anymore, Mommy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK, Buddy. You don't have to wear it anymore."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll wear it to church or sumpin' but not to school."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I hunted those boys down and beat them up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I wanted to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks so dang cute in that shirt, though. Look!(click it to big it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLhxQ4_y6HI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/HtiZoamhhVk/s1600-h/jamesonpink.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLhxQ4_y6HI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/HtiZoamhhVk/s320/jamesonpink.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240062701437380722" 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/8934788-7075165593465366907?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/7075165593465366907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=7075165593465366907&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7075165593465366907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7075165593465366907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/08/pink-is-new-never-again-mommy.html' title='Pink is the new &quot;never again, mommy&quot;'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLhsf8aMt7I/AAAAAAAAA0I/6_kJaFHb2UU/s72-c/IMG_3400.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-434922723362488316</id><published>2008-08-28T19:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T19:15:59.262-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I'd rather do than watch any of the DNC.</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pluck out my eyelashes one at a time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hold my hand in a bucket full of ice water.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Listen to 3 hours of scream metal at full volume.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Drink tea.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Eat things the people on Survivor are forced to eat during competitions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Parachute from an airplane.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fall from a cruise ship and have to tread water for days before rescue.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Look at naked pictures of Marilyn Manson.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-434922723362488316?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/434922723362488316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=434922723362488316&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/434922723362488316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/434922723362488316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/08/things-id-rather-do-than-watch-any-of.html' title='Things I&apos;d rather do than watch any of the DNC.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-6947981173988299477</id><published>2008-08-27T23:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T23:50:05.395-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Exactly what color is this?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/angiedi70/2804276491/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3239/2804276491_82e11bd98d_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/angiedi70/2804276491/"&gt;Exactly what color is this?  30/365&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/angiedi70/"&gt;anjpanj&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I never really know what to say when asked my eye color. 'Cause, you know, I get asked that question ALL the time. Don't you?  OK, OK, I never know what to put on my license or on those MySpace surveys. There. Happy now? So, what color would YOU say my eyes are? Help a sistah out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-6947981173988299477?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/6947981173988299477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=6947981173988299477&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6947981173988299477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6947981173988299477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/08/exactly-what-color-is-this.html' title='Exactly what color is this?'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3239/2804276491_82e11bd98d_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-7666870995472529294</id><published>2008-08-26T07:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T07:47:43.646-04:00</updated><title type='text'>10 on Tuesday</title><content type='html'>Haven't done &lt;a href="http://www.yanowhatimean.com/tuesday/" target="blank"&gt;Ten On Tuesday&lt;/a&gt; in a while.  Why not do it today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;10 Things You Didn't Like About School&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Getting up early. (some things never change)&lt;br /&gt;2. GYM with a capital SUCKS.&lt;br /&gt;3. Cliques. 'Nuff said. &lt;br /&gt;4. Middle School. (or Junior High. Whatever you call it in your area) All of it.&lt;br /&gt;5. Big tests. (I was a terrible studier.)&lt;br /&gt;6. Chemistry&lt;br /&gt;7. Trig&lt;br /&gt;8. The year another high school closed and all those kids had to come to our school. Not their fault but it was the "rich school" and a lot of us resented them.&lt;br /&gt;9. Fighting with Bubba in between classes. &lt;br /&gt;10. Never quite being part of the crowd I wanted to be in. Did I mention cliques??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-7666870995472529294?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/7666870995472529294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=7666870995472529294&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7666870995472529294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7666870995472529294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/08/10-on-tuesday.html' title='10 on Tuesday'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-592109685386463011</id><published>2008-08-25T22:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T22:55:03.360-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The eyebrowns are out of control</title><content type='html'>Who can I hire to come over and shape my **'eyebrowns?'  They really are out of control. I am kind of afraid of the threading lady at the mall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**eyebrowns = Brianna-ism when she as 3 or 4. It just popped into my head as I contemplated my lack of eyebrown grooming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-592109685386463011?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/592109685386463011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=592109685386463011&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/592109685386463011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/592109685386463011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/08/eyebrowns-are-out-of-control.html' title='The eyebrowns are out of control'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-9117365136554081373</id><published>2008-08-24T21:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T21:30:13.517-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch. And also, Ew.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/angiedi70/2794083725/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3271/2794083725_2ffca665b5_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/angiedi70/2794083725/"&gt;Ouch. And also, Ew.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/angiedi70/"&gt;anjpanj&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Last night, Braelyn said her finger hurt. I looked at it but didn't see anything. Not even a little bit of redness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, it looks like this with a big old pocket o' pus pooching out and she won't let anyone touch it or she screams.  It's really gross in real life. This picture does it no justice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, she is going to the doctor tomorrow.&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-9117365136554081373?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/9117365136554081373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=9117365136554081373&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/9117365136554081373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/9117365136554081373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/08/ouch-and-also-ew.html' title='Ouch. And also, Ew.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3271/2794083725_2ffca665b5_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-1511361481260346487</id><published>2008-08-23T17:14:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:10.468-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The American Idol Concert or How I fell in love with a guy named Peter and a company call Marquis Jet</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;*****WARNING---EXTRA SUPER DUPER CRAZY LONG POST*****&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;Don't Say I Didn't Warn You&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been &lt;s&gt;over a week&lt;/s&gt; a little over a month, and I haven't blogged about the most excellent time Braelyn and I had at the American Idol concert! Shall I recap the evening of July 22nd for you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The plan was, since I hate to drive in Indy, for Bubba to drive Braelyn and me to the concert and then he and Jameson would go to an Indianapolis Indians baseball game.  Perfect! It just so happened that there WAS an Indians game on the same night so it really was a great plan.  Plus, my husband loves me and spoils me and will do whatever I &lt;s&gt;beg&lt;/s&gt; ask him to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, I had to work that day, but I managed to get off work at 3:30, which was good so we would miss a big part of the rush hour traffic. The whole way down there I worried about my camera. Should I try to take it in? Should I stuff it down the back of my pants? What if I got caught and then couldn't go in because where would I put it because Bubba would be gone with the car at the baseball game?  See, I'm one of those people who worry about 'getting in trouble.' I looked at the tickets a few times and they didn't say, "No cameras" like most of them do. But still...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Bubba dropped me off, I made him stay at the curb until I could figure out whether I could sneak my camera in and then I would wave him off. So, Braelyn and I head in with me sweating because of the contraband in my purse. Or maybe because it was 90 and humid outside. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as we walk in to Conseco Fieldhouse we are accosted by State Farm people in red shirts wanting to take our photo which would then be displayed on the jumbo-tron. OK, my big fat face on the jumbo-tron is not something I would normally give the OK for, but, you know, I was high on Michael Johns anticipation, so I signed the waiver and let them take the picture. I don't hate my flat yet frizzy hair, lack of eyelashes or double chins in the photo too much so I'll share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SI6ZGXU9cfI/AAAAAAAAAwY/YgAEg0__rmk/s1600-h/braemomidol.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SI6ZGXU9cfI/AAAAAAAAAwY/YgAEg0__rmk/s320/braemomidol.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228284552043917810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The State Farm girl hands me a little paper and tells me to send my concert photos to a certain website, blah, blah, blah. Score! I CAN take my camera in. So, I wave Bubba off and we proceed to hurry up and wait. It was approximately 5pm and the 'gates' wouldn't open until 6pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In line, I saw my co-worker and her daughter who had already been there for a few hours stalking and had gotten a few of the Idol's autographs.  Also, some lady walking around passing out info about michaeljohns.com and a guy on a bullhorn trying to get people to play Guitar Hero. (Which I am VERY proud to say I have never played.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, it is 6:00 and they open the gates and everybody floods in. I told Braelyn that there was no need to hurry since we had an hour and we decided to buy souvenirs, go the bathroom and get something to eat before we found our seats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wandered in holding hands and once we reached about the center of the lobby(?) these two guys approached us.  They were clean cut and good looking dressed in Dockers and Polo shirts and had some sort of passes hanging around their necks. One of the guys said, "Hey, is it just the two of you tonight?"  I'm sure I gave him an odd look but I said, "Yeah, it's just us." AND HE SAYS...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Here, I want to give you 2nd row tickets." All non-chalant-like. 2nd row tickets!!!!!  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SECOND ROW TICKETS!!!&lt;/span&gt;  He handed me two tickets and I stare at them for a minute. I looked at him like, 'What's the catch?' But, what came out of my mouth was, "I think I want to kiss you."  He laughed and said, "No, just take them and enjoy the show." I said, "I think I'm going to cry!" (I was seriously tearing up! Is that lame?) He said, "No, don't cry!  The company I work for has a block of tickets and these are extra. I saw you and your daughter and thought I'd give them to you." I thanked him about 35 times and he said to have a great time. I asked his name, (Peter) and asked what company. He gave me his card. He works for &lt;a href="http://www.marquisjet.com/home.html" target="blank"&gt;Marquis Jet&lt;/a&gt; which is a private jet company. I asked if I could at least give him a hug and he obliged. Did I mention that he was very good looking, 'cause he was. Very.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know what else?? He gave us TWO bags full of free stuff! All Idol stuff you could buy at the souvenir stand! Well over a hundred dollars worth of stuff in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;each&lt;/span&gt; bag plus the bags themselves. Posters, programs, t-shirts, photos (autographed), key chains, buttons...Awesome!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped and called Bubba and it sounded something like this, "OHMYGOD OHMYGOD! SOMERANDOMGUYJUSTGAVEUS2NDROWTICKETS!" And he was all, "Are you serious?" And I was all, "YES! GOTTAGOBYE!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, long bathroom line and two $4.00 pretzels and a $3.75 Sierra Mist later, we head down to find our seats.  Down. Down. Down. Floor seats! &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2ND ROW SEATS!!!&lt;/span&gt; I asked the little usher lady to help me find our &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2ND ROW SEATS&lt;/span&gt; and she kindly obliged.  Let me tell you, our 2ND ROW SEATS were completely amazing and essentially 1st row seats. I sat in disbelief as I used my powers of mental measurement to calculate just how close I would be to MICHAEL JOHNS and how many particles of his breath I would breathe in during the course of the concert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Behold the $4.00 pretzel. $4.50 with cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJEjkkaiF5I/AAAAAAAAAwg/l76xtetGcD4/s1600-h/IMG_2518.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJEjkkaiF5I/AAAAAAAAAwg/l76xtetGcD4/s320/IMG_2518.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228999753511081874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, so moving on...we people-watched a little and I realized that the people from Marquis Jet in the seats around us were of a slightly higher station than us. Not that I cared, but I just noticed is all. Screw that, I was in the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2ND ROW!&lt;/span&gt; And I was armed with a camera, yes I was. Rock on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBSiGqnymI/AAAAAAAAAyY/Urg4N36xYUs/s1600-h/meandbrae.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBSiGqnymI/AAAAAAAAAyY/Urg4N36xYUs/s200/meandbrae.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237777112490297954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we were treated to a dancing Pop-Tart. Yawn. Gimme some Michael effing Johns and no one will get hurt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJEp-wY7hCI/AAAAAAAAAwo/R-3QegWzaJ8/s1600-h/IMG_2526.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJEp-wY7hCI/AAAAAAAAAwo/R-3QegWzaJ8/s320/IMG_2526.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229006800471950370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Dancing Pop-Tart&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point before the concert started I said, "Now, Braelyn, Mommy might faint when Michael Johns comes out. All you have to do is pour the pop in my face and I will wake up."  She cracked up. I was serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FINALLY, the concert started! As the 1st of the Top 10 to be eliminated, Chickezie was up first.  Let me tell you, Chikezie was AWESOME! I am not kidding. Even if you didn't like him on the show, you would have liked him at the concert. He sang "I Believe To My Soul" which I never thought I would like anyone else doing that song after Elliott Yamin, but oh mah gah! It was so stinkin' good! He also sang "Caught Up" and I thought to myself, 'Chikezie could so totally put on a concert by himself.' I was not even kidding. His other song was slow and I didn't know it and I can't remember the name of it right now. Trust me, it was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJE2_fGnyxI/AAAAAAAAAww/O-0CnHDo8oc/s1600-h/IMG_2535.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJE2_fGnyxI/AAAAAAAAAww/O-0CnHDo8oc/s320/IMG_2535.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229021106662787858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9th was Ramiele Malubay. I can't say I thought she was the best of the night, but she held her own. Girl is TINY, though. She sang "I Want You Back," some song I didn't know, and "If I Never See Your Face Again" which she did a really good job singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJPXHwlaJBI/AAAAAAAAAxY/ttXExllVddQ/s1600-h/IMG_2543.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJPXHwlaJBI/AAAAAAAAAxY/ttXExllVddQ/s320/IMG_2543.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229760120608138258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah, did I mention that I was in the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SECOND ROW?&lt;/span&gt; 'Cause I totally was. OK, OK, so do the math here. 10...9...8  Who was number 8 on the show? My palms were sweaty, (or maybe that was from the drink cup) my heart was racing, I was feeling flush. Dang it Rami-freakin-ele, finish your song and chit chat already!  OMGMICHAELJOHNS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one. The only. Michael Johns. Mere feet from where I was standing! I am not even sure I could ever accurately explain just how damn good MJ was. Seriously outstandingly, amazingly, stupendously, awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's proof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=59154" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&amp;amp;photo_secret=002bacaf54&amp;amp;photo_id=2695731514"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=59154"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=59154" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&amp;amp;photo_secret=002bacaf54&amp;amp;photo_id=2695731514" height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, yes. That IS my "WOOOOO" toward the end. Thanks for asking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, let me take a minute to explain to you why I have only a teeny tiny snippet of the awesome aussie. See, I went to the concert thinking we were going to watch from section 14, NOT the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SECOND ROW&lt;/span&gt;!  I figured I'd come away with multiple shots of a far away stage with little blurbs of color hardly visible to the naked eye. But, you know, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;second row&lt;/span&gt;. So, I was VERY afraid that I would run out of room on the &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;only memory card I had with me&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBLIKZPl-I/AAAAAAAAAxo/eqVCnYpbDGs/s1600-h/michaelmosaic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBLIKZPl-I/AAAAAAAAAxo/eqVCnYpbDGs/s320/michaelmosaic.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237768970233157602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael appeared at the top of the stairs on the stage wearing jeans and a jacket looking mighty scrumptious.  He sang "We Are the Champions"...."We Will Rock You"... the knee-weakening "It's All Wrong But It's All Right." I managed to stay conscious and alert throughout. AND, I took pictures.  Most of my Michael pictures are blurry because the man hardly stopped moving. Last was "Dream On." Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Why was Michael Johns not Top 5?  Top 4??  Boy could headline a concert for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point, I sent a text to Bubba that said, "I'm leaving with Michael Johns."  His answer? "Cool. I get the kids."  A few minutes later I sent another. "Nevermind...doesn't do laundry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following two photos are from later in the show during a group song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBMG08Bp8I/AAAAAAAAAxw/OSg5xlGIzUE/s1600-h/michaelstairs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBMG08Bp8I/AAAAAAAAAxw/OSg5xlGIzUE/s320/michaelstairs.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237770046805223362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBMmIeXFBI/AAAAAAAAAx4/nkLq_GOkIsE/s1600-h/michaeldance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBMmIeXFBI/AAAAAAAAAx4/nkLq_GOkIsE/s320/michaeldance.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237770584625452050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yeah, so there was a little more to the concert, but you know, my brain holds on to that number 8 position. Mmmm...Michael Johns...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, Michael left the stage and I was forced to endure Kristy Lee Cook. Ha ha. I'm joking. Kinda. I managed to get a decent butt shot of KLC for my boy, &lt;a href="http://idolbloglive.com/idolblog/" target="blank"&gt;Slim&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBPY78-JdI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/6F2DiJQNKM4/s1600-h/klcbutt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBPY78-JdI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/6F2DiJQNKM4/s320/klcbutt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237773656460764626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But mostly, KLC did this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBO2wVDIFI/AAAAAAAAAyI/Yyhjtz6spL0/s1600-h/klcstance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBO2wVDIFI/AAAAAAAAAyI/Yyhjtz6spL0/s200/klcstance.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237773069224976466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;You might remember 'the stance' from the show.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to like KLC, I really did. I just found myself bored and also dreading, "God Bless the USA." I survived the forced patriotism (jaded much? Me: "No. Just over KLC.") She threw out shirts and she may have mentioned Luke Menard because a few of them did as he was in the audience and is from Indiana, I don't really remember.  Then she was done and introduced Carly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carly came out singing, "Bring Me to Life" and she rocked the house! Wow, she was great! One more of this year's idols who could headline a show.  She was wearing some strange fingers-only black leather gloves which were odd, but otherwise, she looked great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBbz6m29hI/AAAAAAAAAyg/s4yLmK26j2w/s1600-h/carly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBbz6m29hI/AAAAAAAAAyg/s4yLmK26j2w/s320/carly.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237787314095584786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carly also sang, "I Drove All Night" and "Crazy On You."  She was pretty dang awesome. (Let it be known that as I age, my vocabulary has dwindled to "awesome" "great" and "that sucked.")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up next was sweet little Brooke. There was the sound of "Let It Be" on the piano and slowly, she rose from the stage playing a baby grand. Way cool! Brooke sounded, dare I say, awesome!  It's amazing how much better she even was than on the show. She left the piano, barefoot, and donned her guitar for "1,2,3,4" then went back to the piano for a pretty cool rendition of "Yellow." Brooke was a great way to slow the show down for a few minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nearly impossible for me, even with &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2nd row seats&lt;/span&gt;, to get a good photo of Brooke, but I managed to get a couple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBg2hRezOI/AAAAAAAAAyo/JHy6LEFORFA/s1600-h/brookewguitar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBg2hRezOI/AAAAAAAAAyo/JHy6LEFORFA/s320/brookewguitar.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237792856392781026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Brooke was done, everyone who had already performed, 10-6, came out for a group song. Now, you know how much I normally loathe the group songs on the show, but this was U2's "Pride (In the Name of Love) which was pretty much awesome. Especially when Michael Johns sang! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBu_BokuDI/AAAAAAAAAyw/Dc4H3czU-3M/s1600-h/group.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBu_BokuDI/AAAAAAAAAyw/Dc4H3czU-3M/s320/group.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237808395681314866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intermission was next. Time for a little breather. Peter (the guy who gave us the &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2nd row seats&lt;/span&gt; ) showed up and asked how the show was going and if we were enjoying it. Then I attacked him and tongue kissed him until the intermission was over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or I told him what a great time were having and thanked him yet again. Whatever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Peter did tell me something I thought was cool. He said that he had those extra tickets and wanted to give them away and he saw me and Braelyn walk in. He said that Braelyn looked like she was just in awe and was looking around in amazement with wide eyes and he said to himself, "THAT is who I'm giving these tickets to."  Braelyn is my favorite child, did I ever tell you that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My co-worker, Tammy and her daughter, Sarah came up for a visit from the 9th row and showed us the pictures they got with Luke Menard who was sitting near them.  Then Braelyn started the pee-pee dance and insisted I take her to the restroom. The nerve! Didn't she know Jason Castro would be next??  So, I lugged all our (free) stuff up off the floor and up the stairs we traipsed only to see the LONGEST. LINE. EVER. to the restrooms. I came thisclose to barging into the men's restroom and pushing her into one of their line-free stalls. But we waited and she danced and about halfway in, we heard music and noise from inside and I resigned myself to the fact that I would miss getting to swoon over Jason Castro. A lady behind us promptly got on her cell phone and screamed, "IS JASON ON NOW???" to which came the reply, "No, it's lame half-time entertainment." Whew. Crisis averted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Braelyn peed and we sprinted back down the stairs as quickly as I could sprint with lotion-slippery feet on sandals. (You KNOW what I'm talking about, ladies.) We were just in time to see the end of some air-guitar contest or some such thing and FINALLY the ever swoonalicious JASON CASTRO came out with ukelele in hand! Woo Hoo!! And if you ever thought Jason was cute on tv, he is about 100 times so in real life! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBzyoUtKSI/AAAAAAAAAy4/TeFF9dhf9kM/s1600-h/jasonredshoes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLBzyoUtKSI/AAAAAAAAAy4/TeFF9dhf9kM/s320/jasonredshoes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237813680286804258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Check out those red shoes!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, have ukelele, sing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." Enjoy this 2nd small snippet I captured as all the while I worried that I wouldn't have enough memory card space! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=59154" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&amp;amp;photo_secret=e0fd3d724a&amp;amp;photo_id=2694929901"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=59154"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=59154" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&amp;amp;photo_secret=e0fd3d724a&amp;amp;photo_id=2694929901" height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason also sang Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy" (AWESOME!) and "Daydream" which I loved on the show and loved it even more live! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLB1Bz--J1I/AAAAAAAAAzA/etwqo0nqNuY/s1600-h/jasonstanding.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLB1Bz--J1I/AAAAAAAAAzA/etwqo0nqNuY/s320/jasonstanding.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237815040626534226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, Jason's time ended and it was time for Syesha. Her hair didn't match the way she was dressed. Her body/dress was all "Sex Kitten!" and her hair was all, "Let's go to Wal-Mart!"  She sang the song that won't go away, "Umbahrella" by Rhianna and then two songs I didn't know.  She was very Beyonce-like but as with KLC, I was bored and ready for the Davids. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLCma8nLjII/AAAAAAAAA0A/8gf2nA8i3Ks/s1600-h/syesha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLCma8nLjII/AAAAAAAAA0A/8gf2nA8i3Ks/s320/syesha.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237869348509158530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They used the same 'trick' as with Brooke and Archie rose from the stage playing the piano. Only with Smoke! And blue lights! He started his set with "Angels" which was pretty dang fantastic. Let me tell you, this boy has amazing talent! I could tell how much they'd worked with him and WOW! He could hit some crazy high notes he just sounded incredible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLB44UWxVjI/AAAAAAAAAzI/aP99ckSk9kk/s1600-h/archie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLB44UWxVjI/AAAAAAAAAzI/aP99ckSk9kk/s320/archie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237819275564111410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Archie was really funny, though, when he would stop to talk to the audience. He was all tongue-tied and stammering, kind of like he was on the show. He's a really cute kid. Peter, you know, my new best friend?  He got to meet them all (damn him!) and said Archie really impressed him and said 'That kid will go places!'  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLB6BmD_ATI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/CscejZ-ZCgI/s1600-h/archiestanding.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLB6BmD_ATI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/CscejZ-ZCgI/s320/archiestanding.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237820534447604018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides "Angels" Archie also sang, "Apologize" which I love, love, loved! and "Stand By Me" (awesome!) and a really pretty song that I don't know the name of which was a Josh Groban song. Excellent Archie set! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, we had reached YOUR NEXT AMERICAN IDOL! (who I didn't vote for, but you know, it didn't much matter after Michael, Jason and Brooke were gone.) For the third time of the night, they used the "raise out of the stage" trick, but this time there was no piano. I think he started with "Hello" followed by the magic rainbow song, "My Hero" (I could have lived without that one. I can't stand that song.) then "Billie Jean" and "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing." The order may have been different, but those were the songs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLB-e8kRrnI/AAAAAAAAAzY/Q4UWTCofGws/s1600-h/dcclose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLB-e8kRrnI/AAAAAAAAAzY/Q4UWTCofGws/s320/dcclose.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237825436751343218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLB_dEKjsfI/AAAAAAAAAzg/wUtpafU7uzI/s1600-h/dcsitting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLB_dEKjsfI/AAAAAAAAAzg/wUtpafU7uzI/s320/dcsitting.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237826503942844914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;His pants came untied and he was retying them.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cookie was good and puts on a decent show, but I found myself getting a tad bored. Don't get me wrong, I think he was pretty well 'deserving' of the win, but I was just sort of tuning it out by the 5th song. Perhaps it was because I knew Michael would be back out on the stage soon. I don't know. Maybe it was the stupid V neck t-shirt he had on. (HATE that trend, let me tell ya) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Cookie was finally done and it was time for the grand finale group song!  Yay! More Michael Johns goodness!!  They came out and sang "Please Don't Stop the Music."  Another gagalicious song made a little less so by the kids from AI.  There was goofiness all around as they all tried to dance and sing and cover the span of the stage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLCAkWXAKeI/AAAAAAAAAzo/7RTGQnwNhWw/s1600-h/michaelgroup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLCAkWXAKeI/AAAAAAAAAzo/7RTGQnwNhWw/s320/michaelgroup.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237827728597592546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLCA7hOi0vI/AAAAAAAAAzw/oa1liQrWy-o/s1600-h/boysdance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLCA7hOi0vI/AAAAAAAAAzw/oa1liQrWy-o/s320/boysdance.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237828126651896562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, at the risk of sounding like a silly teenager, it was during this finale song that Michael. Johns. Made. Eye. Contact. With. ME.  I am not even kidding! I won't go into detail, but it happened. And then I died. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLCC5sb_BBI/AAAAAAAAAz4/r6QGMi-jbuY/s1600-h/theend.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SLCC5sb_BBI/AAAAAAAAAz4/r6QGMi-jbuY/s320/theend.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237830294324577298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Epilogue: There is slightly more to the story which includes not very exciting or important details which I shall leave out of this novel. In a nutshell, concert ended, fought the crowd, was going to go outside and try to get an autograph, realized WAY too many people out there waiting, Bubba picked us up, late night dinner at Steak &amp; Shake, home. At least now you know why I fell in love with a man named Peter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS You can see ALL of my Idol concert photos over at my &lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/angiedi70/sets/72157606340249799/" target="blank"&gt;flickr set.&lt;/a&gt; If you look at the all sizes tab for each photo you can see them all big and detailed. Some of them are good enough but so many of them are super blurry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-1511361481260346487?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/1511361481260346487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=1511361481260346487&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1511361481260346487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1511361481260346487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/08/american-idol-concert-or-how-i-fell-in.html' title='The American Idol Concert or How I fell in love with a guy named Peter and a company call Marquis Jet'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SI6ZGXU9cfI/AAAAAAAAAwY/YgAEg0__rmk/s72-c/braemomidol.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-6371097067062844756</id><published>2008-08-20T20:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T22:32:12.194-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sign here, date here, initial here</title><content type='html'>My oldest daughter's boyfriend got his ear pierced (left is right and right is wrong! Don't you remember that saying back in the day?) the other day and it started a chain reaction. Brianna was going to get her upper ear pierced, then chickened out because it would have to be done at the tattoo place and not with a piercing gun. She decided on a third hole in her right ear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, the youngest daughter wanted her ears done, too. We explained how it would be done and she was all gung-ho.  Cut to Claire's. (the earring place where they pierce ears) Brianna goes first for her one hole. ($26? Girl, PLEASE! Hand me the gun and I'll do it for free!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KDo7-4HbE80&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KDo7-4HbE80&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT FIRST... (that's me channeling Julie Chen on Big Brother) the paperwork. OK, see, I got my ears pierced back when I was like...9, or something, which would be like 18 years ago. Er, I mean, 28 years ago. (sob) Back then, you walked in to the 'Earring Tree' at the Muncie Mall, slapped the money down and the girl would shoot each earlobe one at a time. Using only an alcohol pad to sterilize your ear and NO GLOVES!  (we also walked there. Uphill. In 3 feet of snow.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW? There are forms to fill out. In triplicate! There are rules to read. Disclaimers to sign. "If your ear falls off, it is NOT our fault."  This is pretty much what I heard, "Sign here. Print here. Initial here. Sign here. And oh, did I forget to ask for your driver's license to prove you are of age and also your medical records complete with the physician's dictation stating that he sliced your lower abdomen and pulled this child from your womb?" So, only after getting a notary to witness and stamp my signature (and initials) did they finally get to piercing! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look, I'm all for cleanliness and proper OSHA crap, but I didn't have to sign that much stuff to get married! Or to get my driver's license! Or heck, even to get my tubes tied! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So finally, after much ado (which, what the heck IS ado, exactly?) the girl took the gun to Brianna's ear and shot it. The end. And I forgot to pull my camera out because, hello? I'm a forgetful dork even though I ALWAYS have my camera at the ready for ALL of life's major events. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Braelyn was next. She's a tad shy and we finally get her into the chair. I turn to the gun girl for one millisecond and turn back to Braelyn. She's crying silently. Long story shortened, she decided that she just wasn't ready. Yay me! No more filling out of the FORMS! Instead, she bought a HSM necklace that says, "Fabulous" and has a little dangling charm of Sharpay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which Bubba promptly found lodged in the washer yesterday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-6371097067062844756?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/6371097067062844756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=6371097067062844756&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6371097067062844756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6371097067062844756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/08/sign-here-date-here-initial-here.html' title='Sign here, date here, initial here'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-1429603379041521642</id><published>2008-08-16T00:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T00:36:09.685-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, internets! How I've missed you!</title><content type='html'>After 13-ish days without a computer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SKZYkG1J2tI/AAAAAAAAAxg/kG9zfkqYUkU/s1600-h/IMG_3303.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SKZYkG1J2tI/AAAAAAAAAxg/kG9zfkqYUkU/s320/IMG_3303.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234968994196871890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...a girl goes a little crazy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-1429603379041521642?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/1429603379041521642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=1429603379041521642&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1429603379041521642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1429603379041521642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-internets-how-ive-missed-you.html' title='Oh, internets! How I&apos;ve missed you!'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SKZYkG1J2tI/AAAAAAAAAxg/kG9zfkqYUkU/s72-c/IMG_3303.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-8139911481997227029</id><published>2008-07-31T20:33:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:11.108-05:00</updated><title type='text'>7-- 7even--Seven</title><content type='html'>7 years ago today, I got this little pink thing and they said we had to take it home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJJavqxPzcI/AAAAAAAAAw4/XvLZo67M0Jo/s1600-h/pinkbrae.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJJavqxPzcI/AAAAAAAAAw4/XvLZo67M0Jo/s320/pinkbrae.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229341892311764418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we did. And it grew and sprouted blond hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJJbJdUen8I/AAAAAAAAAxA/j0tTalYjBaI/s1600-h/braeblueeyes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJJbJdUen8I/AAAAAAAAAxA/j0tTalYjBaI/s320/braeblueeyes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229342335378038722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then it kept getting bigger until today, it looks like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJJbn1AKXVI/AAAAAAAAAxI/CoE7uXXRDxM/s1600-h/IMG_2967.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJJbn1AKXVI/AAAAAAAAAxI/CoE7uXXRDxM/s320/IMG_2967.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229342857131351378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Her first Webkinz. We are SOOO behind the times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJJb1VUxihI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/nDYa5CHGZI0/s1600-h/IMG_2968.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJJb1VUxihI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/nDYa5CHGZI0/s320/IMG_2968.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229343089146038802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;Happy birthday, Braelyn Rose!  We love you, baby girl! May the year you are 7 be full of wonderful things!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;ps Happy Birthday to my favorite New Yawkah...Tara!!  I love you, girl! Sorry, I've neglected you and your blog lately!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-8139911481997227029?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/8139911481997227029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=8139911481997227029&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/8139911481997227029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/8139911481997227029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/07/7-7even-seven.html' title='7-- 7even--Seven'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SJJavqxPzcI/AAAAAAAAAw4/XvLZo67M0Jo/s72-c/pinkbrae.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-6813224470165853548</id><published>2008-07-21T22:25:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:11.844-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wild in the city</title><content type='html'>Remember the owls? The owls are still here! Yay! One morning I almost committed owlicide as I was pulling out of the driveway. One of the little darlings was sitting in a puddle of water at the end of the drive. I slammed on my brakes and he flew up into the tree.  I was giddy with excitement because we hadn't seen them in a long time. I think they were in mourning for their brother/son who met his untimely death on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, one night last week after band practice, Brianna comes home and one of them is sitting on our porch! I KNOW! How cool is that?  But it flies up into the tree so Brianna grabs her camera out of her purse (she IS her mother's daughter, you know) and starts snapping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SIVRPq0c-RI/AAAAAAAAAvw/A8KNFLBICQo/s1600-h/100_6261.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SIVRPq0c-RI/AAAAAAAAAvw/A8KNFLBICQo/s320/100_6261.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225672272267507986" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SIVRabgH7hI/AAAAAAAAAv4/8q79SfX7jtY/s1600-h/100_6266.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SIVRabgH7hI/AAAAAAAAAv4/8q79SfX7jtY/s320/100_6266.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225672457134272018" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to our owl family, we have beavers! Er..muskrats. Or, something that closely resembles one of those. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These pictures suck donkey butt so click 'em to big 'em. They open up REALLY big and I think you'll be able to better tell what they look like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SIVU1nbYfRI/AAAAAAAAAwA/rZT0jO5mq-c/s1600-h/IMG_2505.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SIVU1nbYfRI/AAAAAAAAAwA/rZT0jO5mq-c/s320/IMG_2505.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225676222726962450" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Look at that creepy face in the dirt pile!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SIVVRgKvc5I/AAAAAAAAAwI/Ccy9Y0uBY_M/s1600-h/IMG_2506.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SIVVRgKvc5I/AAAAAAAAAwI/Ccy9Y0uBY_M/s320/IMG_2506.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225676701814453138" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, now, someone tell me what those animals are. I need to know. My money is on the beavers. (My lord, I am going to get some crazy hits from talking about this!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on, as we headed back to the house from taking the beaver/muskrat photos, we saw this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SIVVxS9blEI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/lxEjf3JO87s/s1600-h/IMG_2515.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SIVVxS9blEI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/lxEjf3JO87s/s320/IMG_2515.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225677248024777794" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the animals are conspiring. They're up to something, I just don't know what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-bf6c2fca54507e4d" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dbf6c2fca54507e4d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330211110%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D47C577291C87376A3B127A805447DD942398AF9A.5090B79F730A0FE9A18DF5817268229B513063A2%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dbf6c2fca54507e4d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D0iBpTDF1-YHRuHOBQNUM2zrR0YU&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dbf6c2fca54507e4d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330211110%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D47C577291C87376A3B127A805447DD942398AF9A.5090B79F730A0FE9A18DF5817268229B513063A2%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dbf6c2fca54507e4d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D0iBpTDF1-YHRuHOBQNUM2zrR0YU&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-6813224470165853548?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=bf6c2fca54507e4d&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/6813224470165853548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=6813224470165853548&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6813224470165853548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6813224470165853548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/07/wild-in-city.html' title='Wild in the city'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SIVRPq0c-RI/AAAAAAAAAvw/A8KNFLBICQo/s72-c/100_6261.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-917826522685906101</id><published>2008-06-15T22:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T23:28:56.954-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A few things on my mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I really need to make an appointment to get my hair cut. I hate getting my hair cut. Almost as much as I hate the mall.  My hair is just so...blah. It's heavy and frizzy and just plain icky. It only looks good in the first 5 minutes after I blow it dry. My hair needs shape.  I just hate change when it comes to my hair. And?  I feel like if I get too much of it cut off, then I will look even more fat. As if my hair style could possibly slim me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I know I have issues. Weird issues. Strange issues. But they're MINE! Shut up.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The nails on my left hand are seriously the longest they've been in years. I have to grow them out au naturale since I can't afford to get my nails did on a regular basis. Now my right hand, I am right-handed, are just kind of eh. They always get broken easier. I need to trim both hands to an equal length so I don't look odd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've had a couple of months of thumbing my nose at my weight loss efforts. I very much need to stop that. I had lost 22 pounds. I need to keep going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm beginning to worry about the upcoming year. My oldest will be a senior and there will be SO. MUCH. TO. DO.  Senior pics, grad stuff, college choosing, more formal dances, etc...It makes my head spin just thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;This is also the last summer Brianna will be in marching band. This makes me sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We had a storm move through here earlier this evening and then a seriously large rainbow. It was still raining so I was standing outside in the rain, plastic baggie over my camera, trying to get a good shot. It doesn't get much more redneck than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My purse is a vast wasteland of crap. It needs cleaned out in the worst way.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My bedroom is worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't want to tackle either one.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Now, I must go to bed. It's my early week at work this week. That alarm will be going off sooner than I would like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-917826522685906101?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/917826522685906101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=917826522685906101&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/917826522685906101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/917826522685906101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/06/few-things-on-my-mind.html' title='A few things on my mind'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-5044461654122910322</id><published>2008-06-15T13:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:12.551-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just to be annoying to all the daddy's out there...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SFVWeXdcbpI/AAAAAAAAAvc/lHVJ7WPoh38/s1600-h/zzzfathersday.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SFVWeXdcbpI/AAAAAAAAAvc/lHVJ7WPoh38/s400/zzzfathersday.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212167223444795026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-5044461654122910322?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/5044461654122910322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=5044461654122910322&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5044461654122910322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5044461654122910322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/06/just-to-be-annoying-to-all-daddys-out.html' title='Just to be annoying to all the daddy&apos;s out there...'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SFVWeXdcbpI/AAAAAAAAAvc/lHVJ7WPoh38/s72-c/zzzfathersday.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-1139088128740787977</id><published>2008-06-15T11:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:12.641-05:00</updated><title type='text'>An update on my hooters</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SFU_uQbldrI/AAAAAAAAAvU/lkAB3r8kfxs/s1600-h/zzzhooters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SFU_uQbldrI/AAAAAAAAAvU/lkAB3r8kfxs/s200/zzzhooters.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212142207668418226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, no. Not THOSE hooters! This is an update on the owls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sad to report that I THINK one of the owls, Hootie or Oliver, I'm not sure which, met his demise on the street under his tree sometime in the night/early morning hours of Friday. **pause for moment of silence**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How devastated was I when I left for work on Friday morning and I saw smooshed birdie, feather's flapping in the wind on the road, just below the tree in which my hooters resided? The feathers were the color of my hooters, as well. Now, I haven't seen ANY of the owls for several days, so I am not entirely sure it was Hootie or Oliver, but for now I am assuming that we are one Hooter short of a full bra. (ok, ok, SORRY! I couldn't resist!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I am quite sad that we've lost one of the owls. I am hoping for a sighting, soon, so I can make sure his brother is ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-1139088128740787977?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/1139088128740787977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=1139088128740787977&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1139088128740787977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1139088128740787977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/06/update-on-my-hooters.html' title='An update on my hooters'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SFU_uQbldrI/AAAAAAAAAvU/lkAB3r8kfxs/s72-c/zzzhooters.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-900570396336986906</id><published>2008-06-10T22:56:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T07:35:02.921-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hold..my..hand..want you to hold my hand...</title><content type='html'>Monday morning, as I was backing out of the driveway, I saw an owl sitting on our front sidewalk. If I hadn't been running late, I would have stopped and marveled for a while. As it happens, I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;WAS&lt;/span&gt; running late, (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bubba:&lt;/span&gt; "Go figure.") so I couldn't linger, but I did see that there was a second owl and they both flew up into one of our trees as I drove by. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Way cool. Like WHO (pun intended) gets to see owls that often?? Among people in the city, I mean. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a huge storm last evening and it rained into the night so this morning there was a big puddle on our front sidewalk. I heard some strange loud bird chirping and looked out the front window and there were the owls standing in the puddle, I don't know, drinking?  Bathing?  I watched as they hopped around a little and then they flew up into the tree again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay! They seem to be staying. So now I am on a mission to get some photos. Yeah. It's not really working. BUT! I did get a short little video of them in the tree which I shall now post for your viewing pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-dec652685b985831" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Ddec652685b985831%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330211110%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D91A92D0FBC516E10A770E465C83AB132AC4D74F.7DCEF26114E6BCE16F64660E9DC004B1D3FCEF8C%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Ddec652685b985831%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DNGw4XWnLPQZpYPTf93-ADHPbA7U&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Ddec652685b985831%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330211110%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D91A92D0FBC516E10A770E465C83AB132AC4D74F.7DCEF26114E6BCE16F64660E9DC004B1D3FCEF8C%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Ddec652685b985831%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DNGw4XWnLPQZpYPTf93-ADHPbA7U&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you can't hear what I'm saying, we're naming them Hootie and Oliver. Plus, I KNOW you can't see them very well. It's better on my computer so you'll have to come over and watch it, sometime. But, just to orient your vision, the owls are just below that slanted branch. See? Riiiiight...THERE! And no, we don't live on an interstate, though judging by the noise in that video, you'd think we live directly next to I69!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubba wanted them to be Hootie and Blowfish, hence the name of this post. Blowfish was nixed. I win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Updated to add: You can see the owls much better over at &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/angiedi70/2569564755/" target="blank"&gt;my flickr.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-900570396336986906?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=dec652685b985831&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/900570396336986906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=900570396336986906&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/900570396336986906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/900570396336986906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/06/holdmyhandwant-you-to-hold-my-hand.html' title='Hold..my..hand..want you to hold my hand...'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-9153057258191787763</id><published>2008-06-05T18:26:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:12.811-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Panic! At the Mall</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SEhxEh0xXjI/AAAAAAAAAvM/5vZtzgxiYks/s1600-h/zzzzpanic.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SEhxEh0xXjI/AAAAAAAAAvM/5vZtzgxiYks/s200/zzzzpanic.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208537291667103282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I've never had one before, I am pretty sure I had a panic attack at the mall a few days ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the first thing here is that I loathe the mall. With a capital LOATHE. But, Books-A-Million is in the mall and has it's own entrance from the outside. Bubba gave me a gift card for Mother's Day for B-A-M so I decided I'd go there on Monday because everybody was going to be gone. I spent 2 hours just browsing. Here's the thing with that. I have a hard time buying new books when I know I can get them for free from the library or my aunt. I can't spend money on magazines because that seems an even bigger waste. I can't spend money on a book that isn't thick because &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; seems to be a waste, too. So I wandered around and around and around. I didn't buy any books.  I did buy something but it wasn't books or book related, even. I'll post photos of what I bought, but it's at work so that'll be another post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, like a dummy I decided to walk down to the Blondie's Cookies store and get a cookie. I thought it was closer to the bookstore than it actually is, but I went anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I ever told you one reason why I hate the mall so much? WAY too many reflective surfaces (ie:windows and mirrors). I'm not kidding! I can't stand to see my full length reflection. Blech. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I made it to Blondie's (home of the most over-priced cookies on the face of the earth) and ended up with 3 cookies. But, as the lady was getting my change, I started feeling strange. I got really hot and sweaty and like I couldn't catch my breath. The only thing I could think about was getting the H out of the mall! I had on stupid sandals that I couldn't walk fast in and I was trying to keep my composure as I headed for the exit. I wanted to run very badly but that would bring attention to me that I didn't need or want. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN!  THEN!  The ding dang dong janitor guy was suddenly beside me, pushing his cleaning cart at the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;exact&lt;/span&gt; speed I was walking. I was near tears because I couldn't get around him. Finally, I had enough wits about me to stop and let him pass me and I finally got through the doors to the blessed outside air! I couldn't get to my car fast enough! It was sweet relief to get in and close the door. By this time I was crying and gasping for air and my hands were shaking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat in the parking lot for a while, hoping nobody was noticing me and because I am totally an emotional eater..I crammed a cookie in my mouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was all very embarrassing and scary and unnerving. I hope it doesn't happen again any time soon. I really don't want to have to take medication for panic attacks. I hope it doesn't come to that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I won't be venturing to the mall again anytime soon. Not without my security blanket named Bubba, anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-9153057258191787763?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/9153057258191787763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=9153057258191787763&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/9153057258191787763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/9153057258191787763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/06/panic-at-mall.html' title='Panic! At the Mall'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SEhxEh0xXjI/AAAAAAAAAvM/5vZtzgxiYks/s72-c/zzzzpanic.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-551165434498228386</id><published>2008-06-01T19:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:13.008-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you think we have a case??</title><content type='html'>This is TOTALLY sexual harassment! Can a mouse be charged with human crimes??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SEM4X9bRuqI/AAAAAAAAAvE/XDV-KVozC8o/s1600-h/IMG_1865.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SEM4X9bRuqI/AAAAAAAAAvE/XDV-KVozC8o/s400/IMG_1865.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207067578447542946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we left, Braelyn said, "Mommy, Chuck E Cheese kept grabbing my booty!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm suing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuck E Beaty's just doesn't have the same ring to it, huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-551165434498228386?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/551165434498228386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=551165434498228386&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/551165434498228386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/551165434498228386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/06/do-you-think-we-have-case.html' title='Do you think we have a case??'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SEM4X9bRuqI/AAAAAAAAAvE/XDV-KVozC8o/s72-c/IMG_1865.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-5864044246789176610</id><published>2008-06-01T17:47:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:13.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A little behind</title><content type='html'>I thought I was only a couple of episodes behind on Lost. Turns out, I was something like....oh...6 episodes behind. Yeah. That's how long I've been avoiding blogs talking about Lost. Jeez. So, today, I've been playing catch-up. I'm not to the finale yet, but, OMG Danielle! Carl! Alex! I know, I know, they really did nothing for the story lately, but OMG!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, back to catching up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SEMglL3bhMI/AAAAAAAAAu0/gA580k_HgY0/s1600-h/zzzsawyer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SEMglL3bhMI/AAAAAAAAAu0/gA580k_HgY0/s320/zzzsawyer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207041417382954178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SEMgwIidQxI/AAAAAAAAAu8/iyXoOwp-9Ek/s1600-h/zzzjack.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SEMgwIidQxI/AAAAAAAAAu8/iyXoOwp-9Ek/s320/zzzjack.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207041605468242706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-5864044246789176610?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/5864044246789176610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=5864044246789176610&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5864044246789176610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/5864044246789176610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/06/little-behind.html' title='A little behind'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SEMglL3bhMI/AAAAAAAAAu0/gA580k_HgY0/s72-c/zzzsawyer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-4032472044498565716</id><published>2008-06-01T10:09:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T10:21:40.576-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Shhh...it's a secret.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/13727339@N07/2280040962" id="fs_1" title="s002"&gt;&lt;img alt="s002" src="http://static.flickr.com/2007/2280040962_ea49542dff_s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/97245938@N00/2539429650" id="fs_2" title="&amp;quot;McElman_071126_2011&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;img alt="McElman_071126_2011" title="McElman_071126_2011" src="http://static.flickr.com/2272/2539429650_910e967078_s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/95229107@N00/2207547184" id="fs_3" title="C"&gt;&lt;img alt="C" src="http://static.flickr.com/2065/2207547184_c2d5e7eb24_s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50502690@N00/2377412763" id="fs_4" title=""&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://static.flickr.com/3036/2377412763_8dc92579d3_s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49968232@N00/2386370233" id="fs_5" title="E"&gt;&lt;img alt="E" src="http://static.flickr.com/3280/2386370233_2596de42e3_s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49968232@N00/1943981061" id="fs_6" title="Bead Letter T"&gt;&lt;img alt="Bead Letter T" src="http://static.flickr.com/2109/1943981061_2eb54e063a_s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone else out there read &lt;a href="http://www.postsecret.blogspot.com/" target="blank"&gt;PostSecret&lt;/a&gt; faithfully every Sunday? I know it's not a new site and old news to everyone, but I love it. Sometimes the secrets are funny. Sometimes odd. Sometimes sad. Almost always powerful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever thought about what &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;YOUR&lt;/span&gt; secret would be? What would your postcard look like? I think about that every time I look at the site. Only one or two things come to mind for me. Is that good? I don't know. Should I not have any secrets at all?  I think that is impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave a comment and tell me what your secret would be. Anonymously, of course.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-4032472044498565716?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/4032472044498565716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=4032472044498565716&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4032472044498565716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4032472044498565716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/06/shhhits-secret.html' title='Shhh...it&apos;s a secret.'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-4453010288740353196</id><published>2008-05-30T21:43:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T23:22:31.518-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kween</title><content type='html'>Jameson has certain speech issues that I worry about because I don't want him to be made fun of in kindergarten next school year.  He had a 'speech teacher' in pre-school and he'll have one in elementary as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has trouble with Gs and Rs and Ls and certain other letter combinations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were in the car on Wednesday and Bubba said something about ice cream and Jameson said, "Can we go to Dairy QUeen?" He said the QU combination perfectly! In the past, he would say it as keen.  I was practically crawling over the seat to high five him! We had him repeat it about 10 times. It really was a huge moment. I also got him to say 'goat' correctly as in the past he would say, dote. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was like all of the sudden it clicked for him and his tongue. It certainly makes mommy feel better.  My baby is growing up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-4453010288740353196?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/4453010288740353196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=4453010288740353196&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4453010288740353196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4453010288740353196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/05/kween.html' title='Kween'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-4911470458965937510</id><published>2008-05-29T18:23:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:14.135-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What up, dawgs?</title><content type='html'>I've been terrible at reading all my favorite blogs lately and you know I've been terrible at keeping this place updated. I thought I'd do a bullet post to catch you up on the goings on in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Yes, I actually have done more than watch American Idol lately. I know it doesn't seem so, but it's true.  However, I must leave my last comments about the show and then I'll be done until next year.  I thought the David showdown was great and I also thought Archie out-sang (sung?) Cookie by a slight margin. No big deal as I liked them both. The finale show was the best finale ever since the show started 7 years ago. I was fine with Cookie winning. Michael Johns is still one hot and scrumptious Aussie who sang better in the finale than just about any of the others.  Jason was also quite swoonalicious singing 'Hallelujah' again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Yes, I AM going to the American Idol concert. Thanks for asking. Braelyn and I will be heading to Conseco Fieldhouse on July 22nd to breathe the same air as Michael Johns. Braelyn wants to touch the idols. I did explain to her that while that is a WONDERFUL idea, it won't happen. Though, if MJ sings 'It's All Wrong, But It's All Right' I may just storm the stage.  Getting arrested in the presence of my 6 year old is probably not a good idea.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mother's Day was nice and my kids and husband showered me with cards and gifts.  If you squint at the photo you will see 2 kinds of perfume, including the ORIGINAL Liz Caliborne in the triangle bottle!! Go 80s! Also, I got a picture frame, a $50 gift card for Books-a-Million, a flower, flower seeds, a mini wind chime and plenty of cards. My family loves me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SD8737Kmi7I/AAAAAAAAAuM/STvYVnbRWOw/s1600-h/IMG_1596.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SD8737Kmi7I/AAAAAAAAAuM/STvYVnbRWOw/s320/IMG_1596.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205945526224587698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Work's been pretty busy as usual. We are now more accustomed to busy days so that when we have a nice 'normal' day, we are so surprised and thankful we don't know what to do with ourselves. There is someone out on medical leave now, too, which makes things a little more crazy. I worked last Saturday, got called in for 4 hours on Sunday and now I get to work again this Saturday. Fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The last day of school for Braelyn and Brianna was yesterday. Come August, I will have a kindergartener, a 2nd grader and a Senior. I always always always take a photo of my kids on the first and last days of school. Except this year. I didn't even think about taking the last day photos. I suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We had a pretty busy Memorial weekend. My dad's birthday was on the 24th so the kids and I shopped for his gifts then took them over there. We got him a bunch of outdoorsy things for his yard and deck and such.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We also played putt-putt over the weekend. It was the first time that Jameson and Braelyn have ever played and they loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SD9SQ7Kmi8I/AAAAAAAAAuU/Z2oyfJzpYtI/s1600-h/IMG_1752.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SD9SQ7Kmi8I/AAAAAAAAAuU/Z2oyfJzpYtI/s320/IMG_1752.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205970144977128386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SD9SgbKmi9I/AAAAAAAAAuc/zzo1-O8EMek/s1600-h/IMG_1756.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SD9SgbKmi9I/AAAAAAAAAuc/zzo1-O8EMek/s320/IMG_1756.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205970411265100754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;We also went to a small carnival that was going on in the park. We met up with Brianna and Jeremy and let the kids ride a few rides. Carnies are weird. That's all I'm sayin'.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SD9girKmi-I/AAAAAAAAAuk/Kai5cTVeM_Y/s1600-h/IMG_1807.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SD9girKmi-I/AAAAAAAAAuk/Kai5cTVeM_Y/s320/IMG_1807.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205985843082595298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SD9gzbKmi_I/AAAAAAAAAus/TW-vsKVOOrU/s1600-h/IMG_1812.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SD9gzbKmi_I/AAAAAAAAAus/TW-vsKVOOrU/s320/IMG_1812.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205986130845404146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;And that is a short(?) run down of some things we've done in the last couple of weeks.  What's coming up? A re-painting of the bathroom, marching band stuff, new bikes and who knows what else. I'll keep you posted.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;PS Weight loss? Don't ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-4911470458965937510?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/4911470458965937510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=4911470458965937510&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4911470458965937510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4911470458965937510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-up-dawgs.html' title='What up, dawgs?'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SD8737Kmi7I/AAAAAAAAAuM/STvYVnbRWOw/s72-c/IMG_1596.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-2333245650010331645</id><published>2008-05-18T18:07:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:14.593-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stimuli</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SDCo4OyiMSI/AAAAAAAAAts/AiYjQG4B8_k/s1600-h/stimulus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SDCo4OyiMSI/AAAAAAAAAts/AiYjQG4B8_k/s320/stimulus.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201843253609115938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you gotten YOUR stimulus check yet? Are you going to spend it? Whatcha gonna do with it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally, we were going to use ours as a down-payment for a car, but, we won't be able to swing a new car payment and a higher insurance rate at this time. I am royally bummed, too, because I really, really, really, really wanted a new Honda CR-V. Like REALLY wanted one. I could smell the new car scent already. Alas, I have to be realistic. So instead of getting one of these...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SDCp4-yiMTI/AAAAAAAAAt0/3w1aLUy3sMY/s1600-h/zzzhondacrv.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SDCp4-yiMTI/AAAAAAAAAt0/3w1aLUy3sMY/s320/zzzhondacrv.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201844366005645618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...we'll be getting one of these...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SDCqcOyiMUI/AAAAAAAAAt8/dXqveKToU_o/s1600-h/zzzmattress.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SDCqcOyiMUI/AAAAAAAAAt8/dXqveKToU_o/s320/zzzmattress.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201844971596034370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right boys and girls, a new bed! Bubba and I DO need a new bed, but really, I COULD sleep in a CR-V if I HAD to. Just sayin'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-2333245650010331645?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/2333245650010331645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=2333245650010331645&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2333245650010331645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2333245650010331645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/05/stimuli.html' title='Stimuli'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SDCo4OyiMSI/AAAAAAAAAts/AiYjQG4B8_k/s72-c/stimulus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-7290218703097580853</id><published>2008-05-15T20:58:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:15.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If it's spring time, it must be Prom time</title><content type='html'>It was May 10, 2008 and my oldest went to her first prom. I didn't even cry! She got her hair, nails and make-up did and off she went. Not before we took 3 million pictures, though. And of course I have to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCzqdOyiMEI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/F5GuxPnoYfk/s1600-h/IMG_1550.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCzqdOyiMEI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/F5GuxPnoYfk/s320/IMG_1550.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200789457613238338" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;That would be MAC cosmetics going on her face.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCzv8OyiMFI/AAAAAAAAAsY/MUnKBWkuOTw/s1600-h/IMG_1552.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCzv8OyiMFI/AAAAAAAAAsY/MUnKBWkuOTw/s320/IMG_1552.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200795487747321938" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;The only photo I got of her (sort of) by herself.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCzxEeyiMGI/AAAAAAAAAsg/SqT6bK0y2zA/s1600-h/IMG_1563.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCzxEeyiMGI/AAAAAAAAAsg/SqT6bK0y2zA/s320/IMG_1563.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200796728992870498" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;The ONLY photo I got of the back of her hair, and it was an accident!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCz5NuyiMJI/AAAAAAAAAsw/WyiBvbiQ9RA/s1600-h/IMG_1564.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCz5NuyiMJI/AAAAAAAAAsw/WyiBvbiQ9RA/s320/IMG_1564.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200805683999682706" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;The Happy Couple&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCz7lOyiMMI/AAAAAAAAAtA/u3kQtIYSJbY/s1600-h/IMG_1574.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCz7lOyiMMI/AAAAAAAAAtA/u3kQtIYSJbY/s320/IMG_1574.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200808286749864130" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt; Wit dey ride&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SC8M7eyiMNI/AAAAAAAAAtI/DAfGhdwMuL4/s1600-h/IMG_1576.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SC8M7eyiMNI/AAAAAAAAAtI/DAfGhdwMuL4/s320/IMG_1576.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201390310653046994" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Yeah, my sisters were directing the photo shoot.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SC8NfuyiMOI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/IyLVRGEDs0c/s1600-h/IMG_1581.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SC8NfuyiMOI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/IyLVRGEDs0c/s320/IMG_1581.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201390933423304930" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Cousins. Hey! Look at the camera, kids! No, THIS camera! NO! Over here!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SC8ObeyiMQI/AAAAAAAAAtc/_6mP264QINw/s1600-h/IMG_1594.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SC8ObeyiMQI/AAAAAAAAAtc/_6mP264QINw/s320/IMG_1594.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201391959920488706" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/Cousins.&gt;&lt;center&gt;Don't you wish your daughter was as cool as mine?&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there they go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-2bb17f115801af" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D002bb17f115801af%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330211110%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2B604AF6D5C316367B66A1306DE6BA5616DD4CD4.6FD0883B8D5B64310FD22EB26C23A4962E31C4CD%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2bb17f115801af%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DAWbCSJX-adQcN6OfK_7ksnf3ttw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D002bb17f115801af%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330211110%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2B604AF6D5C316367B66A1306DE6BA5616DD4CD4.6FD0883B8D5B64310FD22EB26C23A4962E31C4CD%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2bb17f115801af%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DAWbCSJX-adQcN6OfK_7ksnf3ttw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I guess there is room for one more. Did I fail to mention that Brianna wore MY Senior prom dress? The bottom had to be remade because of a very large stain (thanks to someone borrowing it years ago) but I think it turned out pretty cool. Don't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SC8R5OyiMRI/AAAAAAAAAtk/7GMQ8jgJq5I/s1600-h/redwhitethennow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SC8R5OyiMRI/AAAAAAAAAtk/7GMQ8jgJq5I/s320/redwhitethennow.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201395769556480274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-7290218703097580853?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=2bb17f115801af&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/7290218703097580853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=7290218703097580853&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7290218703097580853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7290218703097580853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/05/if-its-spring-time-it-must-be-prom-time.html' title='If it&apos;s spring time, it must be Prom time'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCzqdOyiMEI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/F5GuxPnoYfk/s72-c/IMG_1550.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-487050144024785581</id><published>2008-05-13T20:02:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:16.195-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 3 sing 3 (edited)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;David A&lt;/span&gt;-- "And So It Goes"  Excellent!&lt;br /&gt;          "With You"  Fun!!&lt;br /&gt;          "Longer" Nice! (sucky song choice, producers. Whatever.)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCpLUuyiMBI/AAAAAAAAAr4/ML69Ro0h4w8/s1600-h/zzzzarchietop3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCpLUuyiMBI/AAAAAAAAAr4/ML69Ro0h4w8/s320/zzzzarchietop3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200051539282112530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Syesha&lt;/span&gt;-- "some Alicia Keys song"  She didn't screech. It was a'ight dawg.&lt;br /&gt;         "Fever"  Eh.&lt;br /&gt;         "some other song I don't know the title to" Ick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;David C&lt;/span&gt;-- "First Time Ever I Saw Your Face"  Great job. The verse wasn't great, but  the chorus sounded better.&lt;br /&gt;          "Dare You To Move" Verse was all over the place, chorus was better.&lt;br /&gt;          "I Don't Want To Miss A Thing" I wanted to love it, but it wasn't his best ever. One of my favorite songs. Still, he did ok. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCpLeeyiMCI/AAAAAAAAAsA/-jUQRNiK5RU/s1600-h/zzzzcookietop3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCpLeeyiMCI/AAAAAAAAAsA/-jUQRNiK5RU/s320/zzzzcookietop3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200051706785837090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want Syesha to go. A David finale will be a good thing. Can't wait to see my favorites back next week! Jason, Brooke..and MICHAEL JOHNS! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until tomorrow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and as usual, screen caps from the wonderful &lt;a href="http://slimtainment.com/idolblog/" target="blank"&gt;SLIM.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;edited to add: My prediction for Top 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCpcxOyiMDI/AAAAAAAAAsI/NxE9nDo9OFM/s1600-h/zzzaitop2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCpcxOyiMDI/AAAAAAAAAsI/NxE9nDo9OFM/s320/zzzaitop2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200070720606056498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-487050144024785581?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/487050144024785581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=487050144024785581&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/487050144024785581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/487050144024785581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/05/top-3-sing-3.html' title='Top 3 sing 3 (edited)'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCpLUuyiMBI/AAAAAAAAAr4/ML69Ro0h4w8/s72-c/zzzzarchietop3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-6460336578642668825</id><published>2008-05-07T19:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:16.614-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I felt all important and stuff</title><content type='html'>So, I got to go on a business-trip-like-thingy to Ohio last week. It was kind of fun, actually. Mainly because I didn't have to work. And got all my food paid for. And got a hotel room to myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late last year, the company I work for was bought by a larger company. They do some things differently than we do/did, so my boss and I and one other person from a different department went for a visit to one of the regional offices. I got to observe their client services department and listen in on one of the rep's phone calls. (Not just ONE phone call. But phone callS made to one rep. Oh, nevermind.) We got a tour of the building and lots of other stuff that would bore you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way, we ate at Cheeseburger In Paradise. Look! Proof I went to the bathroom at CIP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCI5iTrKQHI/AAAAAAAAArw/-DPMyOEZXH4/s1600-h/IMG_1509.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCI5iTrKQHI/AAAAAAAAArw/-DPMyOEZXH4/s200/IMG_1509.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197780181498609778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;Please ignore goofy look on my face.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to the good stuff, though. We got to the hotel and found out that we each got our own room! Rock on! But we were all spread out on different floors. That was no big deal, though. I got to my room and it was a suite! I was like a kid in a toy store, I swear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SB_KQBYj_pI/AAAAAAAAArI/-_BkKH37RCg/s1600-h/IMG_1515.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SB_KQBYj_pI/AAAAAAAAArI/-_BkKH37RCg/s320/IMG_1515.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197094871607017106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SB_LWRYj_qI/AAAAAAAAArQ/QC-EmJZNK1I/s1600-h/IMG_1518.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SB_LWRYj_qI/AAAAAAAAArQ/QC-EmJZNK1I/s320/IMG_1518.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197096078492827298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that space for li'l ole me! Woo hoo! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday evening, there was a "manager's reception" in the lobby of the hotel with free drinks! I had two tequila sunrises and that was all it took to make me feel all warm and after that, we walked to the Macaroni Grille. Have you been to the Macaroni Grille? Their portions are ginormous! On the way back, we got rained on. Cold rain. Guess who didn't wear their jacket to the restaurant? Yeah, that would be me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in my hotel room I was lost without a computer to log onto so I changed clothes, texted my husband, watched John &amp; Kate Plus 8 and went to bed.  It was like vacation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To sum it up free food, free lodging, no real work. A really good way to spend 36 hours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-6460336578642668825?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/6460336578642668825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=6460336578642668825&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6460336578642668825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/6460336578642668825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-felt-all-important-and-stuff.html' title='I felt all important and stuff'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCI5iTrKQHI/AAAAAAAAArw/-DPMyOEZXH4/s72-c/IMG_1509.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-4730066131935782921</id><published>2008-05-06T20:00:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:17.048-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rock n Roll...or something like that</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCEKKhYj_rI/AAAAAAAAArY/9F-Yq-3f8GU/s1600-h/zzztop4jason.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCEKKhYj_rI/AAAAAAAAArY/9F-Yq-3f8GU/s320/zzztop4jason.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197446620838624946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow..I can't believe it's down to the final 4 already! Time flies! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha ha..Jason yawned on stage. That will piss off the Jason haters! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, tonight it's Rock n Roll Hall of Fame night..or something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not really in the mood for a long post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cookie did fine. I liked Hungry Like the Wolf 'cause I love me some Duran Duran. Baba O'Reilly was good also. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Syesha. Ugh. I don't like her. You can't make me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason. I love his voice. He's swoonalicious as always. Yeah, he forgot words like Brooke and Archie. So what? I thought he picked great songs for his style and voice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCEKkxYj_sI/AAAAAAAAArg/NFQiSUcgRA0/s1600-h/zzztop4jason2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCEKkxYj_sI/AAAAAAAAArg/NFQiSUcgRA0/s320/zzztop4jason2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197447071810191042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Archie. I thought he sounded excellent tonight! He picked great songs for his voice as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason will probably go home. I'm fine with it. How can I complain with a Top 4 finish?? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCEKwxYj_tI/AAAAAAAAAro/k3yd_oMggXs/s1600-h/zzztop4jason3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCEKwxYj_tI/AAAAAAAAAro/k3yd_oMggXs/s320/zzztop4jason3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197447277968621266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a perfect world, Syesha would go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it over yet? I'm ready for the end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All screencaps are from my boy, &lt;a href="http://slimtainment.com/idolblog/" target="blank"&gt;SLIM.&lt;/a&gt; Love ya, Slim!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-4730066131935782921?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/4730066131935782921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=4730066131935782921&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4730066131935782921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4730066131935782921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/05/rock-n-rollor-something-like-that.html' title='Rock n Roll...or something like that'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SCEKKhYj_rI/AAAAAAAAArY/9F-Yq-3f8GU/s72-c/zzztop4jason.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-4526737600625998028</id><published>2008-05-04T12:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T12:34:09.628-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another from the book of Jameson</title><content type='html'>Jameson was sitting on my lap and was looking at my wedding rings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Diamonds are a girl's best friend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I giggled in amazement that he knew that phrase, he said, "That's what Mrs. Noel says!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Noel is his teacher at pre-school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, kids listen to everything we say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-4526737600625998028?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/4526737600625998028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=4526737600625998028&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4526737600625998028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/4526737600625998028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/05/another-from-book-of-jameson.html' title='Another from the book of Jameson'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-7068821071913419015</id><published>2008-05-03T20:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T20:29:18.455-04:00</updated><title type='text'>From the Jameson dictionary</title><content type='html'>Jameson: "Mommy. Know what I heard on the radio when I was in the bafroom?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "What'd you hear, buddy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jameson: "There was a band in a house and it caught on fire." *serious nod*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "There was a what?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jameson: "There was a BAND in a house and it caught on fire!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: *realization washing over me* "Ooooh...ok, bud. I see. That's too bad!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Translation: &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;An abandoned house caught on fire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-7068821071913419015?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/7068821071913419015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=7068821071913419015&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7068821071913419015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7068821071913419015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/05/from-jameson-dictionary.html' title='From the Jameson dictionary'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-2507040257930357221</id><published>2008-04-29T20:00:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:17.542-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet American Idol...bah bah bah...</title><content type='html'>The Top 5 sing 2 Neil Diamond songs each tonight. Should be a pretty good night. Yes, I admit to liking Neil Diamond. I ain't skeered!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blah blah blah..judges..blah blah blah...Neil Diamond meets the kids...blah blah blah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason is first singing, "Forever In Blue Jeans." Yay! He's playing the guitar! I love him best when he's playing. The band totally drowned him out. Gah! I love him. He just sounded too soft. I always like Jason, so that's about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SBfKdRYj_mI/AAAAAAAAAqw/iZi1wa1xVzs/s1600-h/zzztop5jason.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SBfKdRYj_mI/AAAAAAAAAqw/iZi1wa1xVzs/s320/zzztop5jason.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194843299426598498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cookie sings "I'm Alive." I didn't love it, but I didn't hate it. I give it an 'eh.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brooke is next and sings "I'm a Believer." Brooke's playing the guitar and I love that. It starts a little bit low, but she sounds great. This will be a great studio version!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SBfLXxYj_nI/AAAAAAAAAq4/GueXi_hP7cc/s1600-h/zzztop5brooke.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SBfLXxYj_nI/AAAAAAAAAq4/GueXi_hP7cc/s320/zzztop5brooke.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194844304448945778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Archie's up singing, "Sweet Caroline." What a fun song! Finally, not a ballad! He did pretty well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Syesha sings "Hello Again." She sounded nice, but it was kind of boring. But then, I've not been into her all season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason sings "September Morn." Ahhh..I liked it a lot. The judges hated it, but I don't care. I will always love Jason. It was very soft and soothing. I'll be throwing a lot of votes to him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cookie sings "All I Ever Need Is You." Eh. I didn't like the beginning at ALL. It got some better by the end. He'll still be here tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brooke sings "I Am I Said."  I liked it a LOT!  She looks relaxed tonight and like she is having fun. I love her like this. Great job!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Archie sings "America." Boy can sang..even if I don't love his song choices. Good job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Syesha sings a song I didn't catch the title to. It was screechy and off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bottom 2 will probably be Jason and I don't know..maybe Syesha. Jason will probably go. But, you never can tell with this show, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm to the point now where I just have my favorites and I don't care who wins. All season, my favorites have been Jason, Brooke and the ever sexilicious Michael. At this point, it doesn't matter who wins. Someone from this season will do well after whether it be the winner or a "loser." I am just ready for this season to be over now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***Screen caps (not necessarily next to the correct performance) courtesy of my main man, &lt;a href="http://slimtainment.com/idolblog/" target="blank"&gt;SLIM&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SBfMKBYj_oI/AAAAAAAAArA/LS2tt3YQMeQ/s1600-h/zzzmichaeldream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SBfMKBYj_oI/AAAAAAAAArA/LS2tt3YQMeQ/s320/zzzmichaeldream.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194845167737372290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;center&gt;SLUUURRRRPPPP&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-2507040257930357221?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/2507040257930357221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=2507040257930357221&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2507040257930357221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/2507040257930357221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/04/sweet-american-idolbah-bah-bah.html' title='Sweet American Idol...bah bah bah...'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SBfKdRYj_mI/AAAAAAAAAqw/iZi1wa1xVzs/s72-c/zzztop5jason.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-1298875568308433926</id><published>2008-04-22T19:51:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:18.087-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't cry for me, American Idol</title><content type='html'>Time for the top 6 to sing songs of Andrew Lloyd Weber. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Top 6 look great as they are introduced by Ryan. Brooke's in a maxi-dress. Carly is dressed 60s-ish. I hope this is a good night!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paula's hair is pretty awful and Simon is in a charcoal gray sweater with...wait for it..the sleeves pushed up! Imagine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really not into a big full post tonight. I'll give you a short run down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have finally completely decided that I can not stand Randy or Paula. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew Lloyd Weber was an awesome mentor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Syesha had a good night. I still think she is generic and her big notes screech, but a good night for her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason, my love. I've now listened to it several times and while not his best, it was still good. It's the eyes. I think Debbie Gibson said it best when she said, "I get lost, in your eyes..." Of course that was back before Jason was even a gleam in his mother's eye, but we shan't speak of that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SA6eIhYj_kI/AAAAAAAAAqg/RsqkUbUzoRk/s1600-h/zzzzjason6smile.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SA6eIhYj_kI/AAAAAAAAAqg/RsqkUbUzoRk/s320/zzzzjason6smile.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192261289642294850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..to Brooke. Ah, the fair and lovely Brooke. Yes, she had to stop and restart. Who cares?? This is not "Be Perfect Idol." Her voice sounded great and I don't think a simple mess up should kill her chances of moving on. Paula acted like Brooke should go slit her wrists or something. Simon, at least, said Brooke did the right thing. That is why I love me some Simon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SA6fNRYj_lI/AAAAAAAAAqo/BrQM1GKxz6c/s1600-h/zzzzbrooke6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SA6fNRYj_lI/AAAAAAAAAqo/BrQM1GKxz6c/s320/zzzzbrooke6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192262470758301266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Archie has an beautiful voice but good lord the kid picks the most boring songs in the history of the universe. I love him, though! Such a cutie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, Carly let loose and had some fun. While I still don't love her voice, I kinda liked this performance. She still kind of yells her big notes, but she looked great and showed some real personality for a change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cookie sounded really good, except for that first "big" note. I was kind of glad he didn't rock out. It was a nice, pleasant song. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody really blew me away tonight. I'm not sure what I think. The bottom could really be anyone at this point. I really don't care to even guess. I would really love for Brooke and Jason to stay, though. Otherwise...whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As always, screen caps are courtesy of my wonderfully stupendous and awesome friend, &lt;a href="http://slimtainment.com/idolblog/?p=1441&amp;cp=2#comments" target="blank"&gt;SLIM&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-1298875568308433926?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/1298875568308433926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=1298875568308433926&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1298875568308433926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1298875568308433926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/04/dont-cry-for-me-american-idol.html' title='Don&apos;t cry for me, American Idol'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SA6eIhYj_kI/AAAAAAAAAqg/RsqkUbUzoRk/s72-c/zzzzjason6smile.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-413177079296533444</id><published>2008-04-17T20:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T22:19:41.184-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The No-more-Kristy Cartwheel</title><content type='html'>So, last night, as I &lt;a href="http://slimtainment.com/idolblog/?p=1417#more-1417" target="blank"&gt;live-blogged American Idol&lt;/a&gt; I, and pretty much everyone else, thought Kristy Lee would stay at least one more week. Because I wanted her gone, (she was my Sanyjaya, afterall) I said that I would do cartwheels and video it if Kristy actually DID go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not one to go back on a promise, I headed outside to do A cartwheel. I took Brianna for moral support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I. Can. Not. Do. A. Cartwheel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have the sore ankle to prove that. Let's just say, I did not land on my feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, IdolBlogLive friends, I recruited Brianna to do the No-more-Kristy-cartwheel. Has a certain ring to it, eh? The first is a cartwheel, the 2nd is her attempt at a round-off. Gymnasts we are not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so Blogger wouldn't load my videos so all you get are links.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/angiedi70/2421438389/" target="blank"&gt;Cartwheel.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/angiedi70/2422259890/" target="blank"&gt;Round-off.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-413177079296533444?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=6cce9cf2b5ae16c9&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=841ccb6cac941687&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/413177079296533444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=413177079296533444&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/413177079296533444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/413177079296533444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/04/no-more-kristy-cartwheel.html' title='The No-more-Kristy Cartwheel'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-7934017005483567177</id><published>2008-04-15T19:50:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:18.890-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Michael-less Top 7 sing Mariah</title><content type='html'>Who thinks up these theme's? Really? Mariah? Seriously?  I predict a snoozefest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the Idols look really good tonight. Let's hope they sound good as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan introduces Mariah and we get to hear all the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;wonderful&lt;/span&gt; things Mariah has done. *yawn*  Sorry, not a fan. As my good friend, Drillah, said, why would they choose this theme when people get slammed for choosing a Mariah Carey (or diva) song every year?! Whatever, producers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SAVwmNFwuyI/AAAAAAAAApo/3_4ELYR7Sic/s1600-h/zzzarchie7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SAVwmNFwuyI/AAAAAAAAApo/3_4ELYR7Sic/s200/zzzarchie7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189677947265530658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ok, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Archie&lt;/span&gt; is up first and he sings, "When You Believe." Mariah seemed to like him a lot when she met him. I don't like this song choice. It's quite boring, but the kid can sing. I don't care if you like his style or not. He's got a great voice. He did a great job with this song despite a couple of cracks. 8 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Carly&lt;/span&gt; sings, "Without You."  She sounded a bit strained in the high notes. The beginning was too low. I wasn't thrilled with this performance, but it was ok. 6 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Syesha&lt;/span&gt; is up next and sings, "Vanishing." All I heard was a bunch of runs. Blech. I hate too many runs. Not much else to say. I've been kind of bored with Syesha for a long time. 6 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SAVgbdFwuvI/AAAAAAAAApQ/0UudXa2JlRk/s1600-h/zzzbrooke7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SAVgbdFwuvI/AAAAAAAAApQ/0UudXa2JlRk/s200/zzzbrooke7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189660170395892466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Brooke&lt;/span&gt; chose "Hero."  Brooke looks very pretty tonight. She's playing the piano and I always love that. I think she got a little fast in a couple of spots, but I just love her voice. She went a tad flat in a couple of spots, but still, love me some Brooke. Can I say again that I would soooo listen to a Brooke CD! 8 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Kristy &lt;/span&gt;is doing "Forever." She started too low and seems shaky. I just don't like Kristy. I stopped trying to like her long ago. Like...after she sang "Amazing Grace." 6 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SAVhVdFwuwI/AAAAAAAAApY/b3wypW2tPxI/s1600-h/zzzdavidc7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SAVhVdFwuwI/AAAAAAAAApY/b3wypW2tPxI/s200/zzzdavidc7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189661166828305154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;David C&lt;/span&gt; is up to sing "Always Be My Baby." He changed it up a bit. It started too softly and too low. Was quite shaky until about the middle when he got a little louder, but still didn't finish all that well. I would guess the studio version will be killer on this one. 7 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SAVh1NFwuxI/AAAAAAAAApg/8Of5NTC1BN8/s1600-h/zzzjason7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SAVh1NFwuxI/AAAAAAAAApg/8Of5NTC1BN8/s200/zzzjason7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189661712289151762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Jason&lt;/span&gt; sings "I Don't Wanna Cry."  I love Jason. Still. The end. *swoon* 8 of 10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SAVyH9FwuzI/AAAAAAAAApw/uML-xUVfQO4/s1600-h/mjmikejuliet6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SAVyH9FwuzI/AAAAAAAAApw/uML-xUVfQO4/s200/mjmikejuliet6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189679626597743410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In the honorary 8th position (in my head) was &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Michael Johns&lt;/span&gt;. He did the best overall and got ALL my votes tonight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a great night as I figured. Mariah night is just not a good idea if you ask me. But who asked me, right?  The boys did MUCH better than the girls. Go figure. I certainly wasn't surprised. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bottom 3: Syesha, Kristy, Carly&lt;br /&gt;My top 4: Brooke, Jason, Archie and Cookie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See ya tomorrow night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-7934017005483567177?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/7934017005483567177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=7934017005483567177&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7934017005483567177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7934017005483567177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/04/michael-less-top-7-sing-mariah.html' title='The Michael-less Top 7 sing Mariah'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SAVwmNFwuyI/AAAAAAAAApo/3_4ELYR7Sic/s72-c/zzzarchie7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-7016723835437268056</id><published>2008-04-10T23:49:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:19.641-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's all wrong, but it's not all right</title><content type='html'>I know I shouldn't be into a TV show as much as I am. (see my 3 million mentions of Friday Night Lights) But, I admit that I am an Idol junkie through and through and I really don't care who knows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_7xTSyYXsI/AAAAAAAAAoo/FiCQ7576VqE/s1600-h/zz_mj02.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_7xTSyYXsI/AAAAAAAAAoo/FiCQ7576VqE/s320/zz_mj02.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187849134540349122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always have favorites on American Idol. Some seasons they border on obsession. (Ok, only ONE previous season. Taylor and Chris, anyone?) This year, I am completely in love with Jason Castro and completely in lustful obsession with Michael Johns. I think I said that I would ALMOST leave Dave Matthews for Michael Johns. That is saying a lot because you guys all know of my undying love for Mr. Matthews. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_7xmyyYXtI/AAAAAAAAAow/mnz4-6BeB44/s1600-h/zz_mj03b.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_7xmyyYXtI/AAAAAAAAAow/mnz4-6BeB44/s320/zz_mj03b.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187849469547798226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYway...I live blogged AI tonight over at &lt;a href="http://slimtainment.com/idolblog/?p=1390#comments" target="blank"&gt;Slim's&lt;/a&gt; and I was just tooling along watching the show and BAM! MY Michael was in the bottom 3! What the H? In the bottom? But..but..I voted for him for 2 freakin' hours Tuesday night to insure his safety! (ha ha ha ha ha, good one. As IF the votes count.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_7yCyyYXuI/AAAAAAAAAo4/fgsb6QVrUGs/s1600-h/zzmichael-05.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_7yCyyYXuI/AAAAAAAAAo4/fgsb6QVrUGs/s320/zzmichael-05.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187849950584135394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was dizzy. My lips went numb. My knees were weak! What the bloody hell? (as Simon might say.) And then freakin' pipsqueak Ryan goes to commercial AGAIN. My heart could barely take it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_7zByyYXvI/AAAAAAAAApA/1D9mKchCL2Y/s1600-h/zzmj_16b.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_7zByyYXvI/AAAAAAAAApA/1D9mKchCL2Y/s320/zzmj_16b.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187851032915894002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan tells frickin' Syesha and Carly that they are safe. THEN, he says, "Now, last year, during Idol Gives Back, we didn't eliminate anybody at this stage of the competition. Tonight.....we're going to say goodbye to Michael Johns." Nice, Ryan. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FYt09ISi3-Y" target="blank"&gt;That sucked and you are a pipsqueak.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_74pSyYXwI/AAAAAAAAApI/X05q3X4NvXY/s1600-h/michaeljohnstop11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_74pSyYXwI/AAAAAAAAApI/X05q3X4NvXY/s320/michaeljohnstop11.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187857209078865666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I MAY have completely lost it and started yelling at the top of my lungs, "OH MY GOSH! OH MY GOSH! OH. MY. GOSH!" Maybe. And Jameson MIGHT have said, "Mommy, why are you freaking out?" You know, I'm just not sure because I was suffering from shock. &lt;br /&gt;BUT(T)...Michael got to sing out and well, he sounded scrumpdiddlyumptious and MY LORD &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OppxWVHb2DQ" target="blank"&gt;look at that butt!&lt;/a&gt; (at about :45 and 1:05) Boy wears himself some JANES! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I drowned my sorrows in Diet Dr Pepper Cherry Vanilla (liquid crack), McDonald's chocolate chip cookies (fast food CRACK, right there) and all of my downloaded performances and studio tracks of Michael. *sigh* Diet be damned! Michael would want it this way. My friends at Slim's boo-hooed with me and now I think I'll go sob with &lt;a href="http://thepopeye.blogspot.com/" target="blank"&gt;Beckeye.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS For you Michael naysayers, if you don't think he was any good, you really should watch &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=wMwgwZijQlQ" target="blank"&gt;THIS&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=1r49Dc1DGdw&amp;feature=related" target="blank"&gt;THIS&lt;/a&gt;. Even if you don't like his style, there's no denying he's good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-7016723835437268056?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/7016723835437268056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=7016723835437268056&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7016723835437268056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/7016723835437268056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/04/its-all-wrong-but-its-not-all-right.html' title='It&apos;s all wrong, but it&apos;s not all right'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_7xTSyYXsI/AAAAAAAAAoo/FiCQ7576VqE/s72-c/zz_mj02.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934788.post-1453768916487000521</id><published>2008-04-08T20:01:00.014-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:23:20.885-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You bring meaning to my life..you're the Inspiration...</title><content type='html'>Tonight, the Idols sing songs that inspire them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wmkmRDT2I/AAAAAAAAAnw/tNHw_Eo78JA/s1600-h/zzzmichaeldream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wmkmRDT2I/AAAAAAAAAnw/tNHw_Eo78JA/s200/zzzmichaeldream.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187063281013182306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Michael&lt;/span&gt; is first singing "Dream On" by Aerosmith.  Oh, I loved this. Loved it. The boy OOZES sexy and I love every oozing drop! (ew, that was kind of a gross picture I just painted.) I can do without the funky scarves around his neck, but, you know, I would delight in removing them every week. Uh huh. Yeah, um, anyway, I've listened to this performance about 10 times now. LOVE it. You should really check out some of the stuff on youtube of Michael PRE-Idol. Awesome stuff! I would ALMOST leave Dave Matthews for Michael Johns. Almost. 8 1/2 of 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wmwmRDT3I/AAAAAAAAAn4/g1rwZO2S328/s1600-h/zzzsyeshafan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wmwmRDT3I/AAAAAAAAAn4/g1rwZO2S328/s200/zzzsyeshafan.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187063487171612530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Syesha&lt;/span&gt; sings "I Believe" by Fantasia. You know, I just can't get into Syesha. She was a tad loud and a bit shreiky (as my friend Doc would say. That's about it. Oh, and I hated her hair tonight. 6 1/2 of 10&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wm8mRDT4I/AAAAAAAAAoA/tsB1uOBq0aI/s1600-h/zzzjasonsotr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wm8mRDT4I/AAAAAAAAAoA/tsB1uOBq0aI/s200/zzzjasonsotr.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187063693330042754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Jason&lt;/span&gt; sings "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." The IZ version.  LOVE! LOVE! LOVE! Those dreamy eyes. That lovely voice. He will sing some gorgeous babies to sleep with that voice someday. Love his attitude. Love his singing. Love Jason. 8 1/2 of 10&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wnK2RDT5I/AAAAAAAAAoI/rBhY6Jcm8kE/s1600-h/zzzkristy8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wnK2RDT5I/AAAAAAAAAoI/rBhY6Jcm8kE/s200/zzzkristy8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187063938143178642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Kristy&lt;/span&gt;  sings "Anyway" by Martina McBride.  Blech. I don't like her. The verses were off. I didn't care for it. I'm not a fan. You can't make me like her. 6 1/2 of 10&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wndGRDT6I/AAAAAAAAAoQ/QpBi37btRIg/s1600-h/zzzdavidc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wndGRDT6I/AAAAAAAAAoQ/QpBi37btRIg/s200/zzzdavidc.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187064251675791266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;David Cook&lt;/span&gt; sings "Innocent" by Our Lady Peace. NOT a good song choice. Didn't like it. Didn't really see it as pompous. I just saw it as bad. 6 of 10&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wnrGRDT7I/AAAAAAAAAoY/d8sZ-BPg6_k/s1600-h/zzzcarlyshow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wnrGRDT7I/AAAAAAAAAoY/d8sZ-BPg6_k/s200/zzzcarlyshow.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187064492193959858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Carly&lt;/span&gt; sings "The Show Must Go On" Not good. She was all over the place. Not a strong performance. It seemed like she was straining to hit the notes. She looked great, though. 6 of 10&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wn3WRDT8I/AAAAAAAAAog/fJO_UoblEoc/s1600-h/zzzarchiepiano.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wn3WRDT8I/AAAAAAAAAog/fJO_UoblEoc/s200/zzzarchiepiano.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187064702647357378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Archie&lt;/span&gt; sings "Angels" by Robbie Williams. Oh, I like this song. I love when he plays the piano. I just like Archie a lot. I kinda want him to marry Brianna someday. (sorry, Jeremy) Boy can sing. This was a great performance! The people who hate him because he's a sweet kid?? Give me a break! Stop being so freakin' cynical! 9 of 10&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wmD2RDT1I/AAAAAAAAAno/EmtawEl-ZRs/s1600-h/zzzbrookefriend.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wmD2RDT1I/AAAAAAAAAno/EmtawEl-ZRs/s200/zzzbrookefriend.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187062718372466514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Brooke&lt;/span&gt; sings "You've Got a Friend." I love Brooke. She's sincere and sensitive and picked a song I love. As usual, she's in my top. 8 1/2 of 10&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;Well, I thought it was a good night. I liked half of them and didn't like the other half. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Top 4: Michael, Jason, David A and Brooke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bottom 4: Syesha, Kristy (she's my Sanjaya. Go home, already!), David C and Carly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See ya'll tomorrow for Idol Gives Back and then Thursday for elims. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS Hey, Randy. American Idol &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;IS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; about dreams coming true. Dude, where have you been for the past 7 years? I say we vote YOU off this week! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PPS Randy..."pitchy" is not a word. Stop using it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PPS All screen caps courtesy of my boy, &lt;a href="http://slimtainment.com/idolblog/" target="blank"&gt;SLIM.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8934788-1453768916487000521?l=fickenchingers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/feeds/1453768916487000521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8934788&amp;postID=1453768916487000521&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1453768916487000521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8934788/posts/default/1453768916487000521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fickenchingers.blogspot.com/2008/04/you-bring-meaning-to-my-lifeyoure.html' title='You bring meaning to my life..you&apos;re the Inspiration...'/><author><name>Angie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17003233931939801775</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/SPt280DRyBI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Ltk-_lTKHqU/S220/methumb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZrORN9SIEm0/R_wmkmRDT2I/AAAAAAAAAnw/tNHw_Eo78JA/s72-c/zzzmichaeldream.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry></feed>
