<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811</id><updated>2009-12-28T12:12:58.341-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coelha Thoughts</title><subtitle type='html'>Welcome to my crazy, Portuguese/American life...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default?orderby=updated'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;orderby=updated'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>121</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-2234114400441779942</id><published>2009-12-02T13:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T14:01:26.298-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SxbjrZFG-zI/AAAAAAAADds/kMW0eehlnKc/s1600-h/j0439773.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 288px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SxbjrZFG-zI/AAAAAAAADds/kMW0eehlnKc/s400/j0439773.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410762336938425138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's that time of year again!  Time for me to send the "Holiday Potluck" announcement to everyone at work!  I must be careful to exclude the word "Christmas" to not offend anyone of course!  After I sent out the flyer, decorated carefully with only Santa Claus, my friend Sharon sent me the the following--it is classic--and true--ENJOY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is absolutely priceless and, unfortunately, too close to the truth. Have a laugh!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Company Memo  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FROM:    Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director &lt;br /&gt;TO:         All Employees &lt;br /&gt;DATE:    October 1, 2008 &lt;br /&gt;RE:       Gala Christmas Party &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I'm happy to inform you that the company Christmas Party will take place on December 23rd, starting at noon in the private function room at the Grill House. There will be a cash bar and plenty of drinks!  We'll have a small band playing traditional carols... feel free to sing along.  And don't be surprised if our CEO shows up dressed as Santa Claus! A Christmas tree will be lit at 1:00 PM.  Exchanges of gifts among employees can be done at that time; however, no gift should be over $10.00 to make the giving of gifts easy for everyone's pockets.  This gathering is only for employees! &lt;br /&gt;Our CEO will make a special announcement at that time! &lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas to you and your family, &lt;br /&gt;Patty &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Company Memo &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; FROM:    Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director &lt;br /&gt;TO:         All Employees &lt;br /&gt;DATE:    October 2, 2008 &lt;br /&gt;RE:       Gala Holiday Party &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;In no way was yesterday's memo intended to exclude our Jewish employees.  We recognize that  Hanukkah is an important holiday, which often coincides with Christmas, though unfortunately not this year.  However, from now on,  we're calling it our "Holiday Party."  The same policy applies to any other employees who are not Christians and to those still celebrating Reconciliation Day.  There will be no Christmas tree and no Christmas carols will be sung.  We will have other types of music for your enjoyment &lt;br /&gt;Happy now? &lt;br /&gt;Happy Holidays to you and your family, &lt;br /&gt;Patty &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Company Memo &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FROM:   Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director &lt;br /&gt;TO:        All Employees &lt;br /&gt;DATE:   October 3, 2008 &lt;br /&gt;RE:        Holiday Party &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regarding the note I received from a member of Alcoholics Anonymous requesting a non-drinking table, you didn't sign your name.  I'm happy to accommodate this request, but if I put a sign on a table that  reads, "AA Only", you wouldn't be anonymous anymore.  How am I supposed to handle this? &lt;br /&gt;Somebody? &lt;br /&gt;And sorry, but forget about the gift exchange, no gifts are allowed since the union members feel that $10.00 is too much money and the executives believe $10.00 is a little chintzy &lt;br /&gt;REMEMBER: NO GIFTS EXCHANGE WILL BE ALLOWED. &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt; Company Memo &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; FROM:  Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director &lt;br /&gt;To:        All Employees &lt;br /&gt;DATE:   October 4, 2008 &lt;br /&gt;RE:        Generic Holiday Party &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;What a diverse group we are!  I had no idea that December 20th begins the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, which forbids eating and drinking during daylight hours.  There goes the party!  Seriously, we can appreciate how a luncheon at this time of year does not accommodate our Muslim employees' beliefs..  Perhaps the Grill House can hold off on serving your meal until the end of the party or else package everything for you to take it home in little foil doggy baggy.  Will that work? &lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, I've arranged for members of Weight Watchers to sit farthest from the dessert buffet, and pregnant women will get the table closest to the restrooms. &lt;br /&gt;Gays are allowed to sit with each other.  Lesbians do not have to sit with Gay men, each group will have their own table. &lt;br /&gt;Yes, there will be flower arrangement for the Gay men's table. &lt;br /&gt;To the person asking permission to cross dress, the Grill House asks that no cross-dressing be allowed, apparently because of concerns about confusion in the restrooms.  Sorry. &lt;br /&gt;We will have booster seats for short people. &lt;br /&gt;Low-fat food will be available for those on a diet. &lt;br /&gt;I am sorry to report that we cannot control the amount of salt used in the food .  The Grill House suggests that people with high blood pressure taste a bite first. &lt;br /&gt;There will be fresh "low sugar" fruits as dessert for diabetics, but the restaurant cannot supply "no sugar" desserts. Sorry! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I miss anything?!?!? &lt;br /&gt;Patty &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt; Company Memo &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FROM:   Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director &lt;br /&gt;TO:         All F*%^ing Employees &lt;br /&gt;DATE:    October  5, 2008 &lt;br /&gt;RE:         The F*%^ing Holiday Party &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;I've had it with you vegetarian pricks!!!  We're going to keep this party at the Grill House whether you like it or not, so you can sit quietly at the table furthest from the "grill of death," as you so quaintly put it, and you'll get your f*%^ing salad bar, including organic tomatoes.  But you know, tomatoes have feelings, too.  They scream when you slice them.  I've heard them scream.  I'm hearing them scream right NOW! &lt;br /&gt;The rest of you f*%^ing wierdos can kiss my *ss.  I hope you all have a rotten holiday! &lt;br /&gt;Drive drunk and die, &lt;br /&gt;The B*tch from H*ll!!! &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt; Company Memo &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FROM:  Joan Bishop, Acting Human Resources Director &lt;br /&gt;DATE:   October  6, 2008 &lt;br /&gt;RE:        Patty Lewis and Holiday Party &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;I'm sure I speak for all of us in wishing Patty Lewis a speedy recovery and I'll continue to forward your cards to her. &lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, management has decided to cancel our Holiday Party and give everyone the afternoon of the 23rd off with full pay. &lt;br /&gt;Happy Holidays! &lt;br /&gt;Joan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-2234114400441779942?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2234114400441779942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=2234114400441779942' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/2234114400441779942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/2234114400441779942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/12/holiday-party.html' title='Holiday Party'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SxbjrZFG-zI/AAAAAAAADds/kMW0eehlnKc/s72-c/j0439773.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-4245893527157149460</id><published>2009-11-23T22:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T09:01:18.164-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Traveling Velvet Shorts..</title><content type='html'>In many families, heirloom items are passed from one generation to another.  Sometimes its pieces of jewelry or china, books, pictures…etc.  Well, in our family it’s a pair of  hand sewn black velvet shorts mother made for my two older brothers.  Together with it's matching jacket, my brother Eddy wore it for his Aunt Addie’s wedding back in 1960.  Throughout the years it has been passed down a generation and re-worn by various young boys in our family.  It was worn to various weddings and special occasions throughout the years by our nephew Michael, then again by my brother’s son, my nephew Brett, and afterwards worn by my son Andrew.  In its most recent appearance, my youngest son, Nicholas officially wore the notorious shorts two weekends ago at my cousin Elaine’s wedding.  It was worn first at her mom's wedding.  After 48 years, as you can see in the picture below, it looks just as new as it looked years before. It is now presently hanging in the closet awaiting for the next generation of little boys in the family.  I can't wait to know who will be wearing it next..we can only wonder..  Unfortunately, I don’t have a picture of the bride, due to the fact that my camera battery died-which is very sad, because my cousin looked especially beautiful, and her groom was quite handsome.  They looked like the perfect bride and groom you find on top of the cake—very Cinderella and the handsome prince.  Sigh..  I did manage to take a few pictures before my camera refused to take anymore.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SwykTe9jddI/AAAAAAAADdk/XONNlCKyCR4/s1600/2009sum+224.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SwykTe9jddI/AAAAAAAADdk/XONNlCKyCR4/s400/2009sum+224.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407877907200832978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nicholas wearing the famous shorts..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Playing catch up with November…and I'm going a little backwards--still bear with me.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay November is more than half way over, and I haven’t really even been making any entries this month..  When this happens, please know that it’s not because I’ve given up, but it’s due to the fact that I've been overwhelmed with routine daily life!  Sad that I don’t have the time to sit and write something-because, a lot of stuff has been going on! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SwyWON4HpAI/AAAAAAAADcc/DayAFR2Dt-I/s1600/2009sum+194.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SwyWON4HpAI/AAAAAAAADcc/DayAFR2Dt-I/s400/2009sum+194.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407862423552500738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My niece Tara, Lizzy &amp; Mom&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have two Christmas boutiques scheduled for my Avon booth.  I had one last Saturday, and it was NOT what I expected it to be.  I was told that the event was going to be "widely advertised".  I really beg to differ--I think I counted about 10 or 15 people who actually came to the event.  I'm not kidding.  It was in a small, dark, church hall, and it was freezing.  It was colder inside than outside.  The only enduring thing was a picture hanging in the kitchen area.  It was the same painting that used to hang in my mom's kitchen when I was growing up.  A picture of a bowl of fruit, and a bouquet of flowers.  It was surreal---I forgot about that painting, and to see it again brought back a lot of memories.  Other than that, it was a VERY LONG day.  Considering the lack of flow of potential customers, I did break even and did sell--not half as much as I wanted to of course.  I honestly made more money from the other vendors who were selling, who came to my booth.  It was so boring, we were visiting eachother to pass the time.  I did meet some really  nice ladies though.  It was exhausting nevertheless, and I didn't get home until after 4 pm.  Now I still have over 50 gift bags to sell..  I need another boutique to sell! Hopefully the next one will be more fruitful..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SwyYTmM3IdI/AAAAAAAADck/vQqoDCB3azA/s1600/2009sum+201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SwyYTmM3IdI/AAAAAAAADck/vQqoDCB3azA/s400/2009sum+201.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407864715004551634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew, Nicholas, Mom, my nephew, Michael&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a birthday for my youngest on the 5th which involved movies and a trip to Chuck E. Cheese.  (That was fun—I had no idea however how BUSY that place can be on a week day evening---I would be scared to go anywhere near that place on a weekend!)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SwyZ5VOFJOI/AAAAAAAADcs/ZuQhQsyIq-Q/s1600/2009sum+168.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SwyZ5VOFJOI/AAAAAAAADcs/ZuQhQsyIq-Q/s400/2009sum+168.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407866462792918242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Birthday Boy Nicholas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Swycke0EkvI/AAAAAAAADdU/skFD1r12x6g/s1600/2009sum+181.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Swycke0EkvI/AAAAAAAADdU/skFD1r12x6g/s400/2009sum+181.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407869403125814002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SwyckAtYgqI/AAAAAAAADdM/3D1mI11YxAU/s1600/2009sum+178.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SwyckAtYgqI/AAAAAAAADdM/3D1mI11YxAU/s400/2009sum+178.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407869395044696738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Swycjg1J2XI/AAAAAAAADdE/O57BhhZrIcU/s1600/2009sum+155.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Swycjg1J2XI/AAAAAAAADdE/O57BhhZrIcU/s400/2009sum+155.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407869386487355762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SwycjFTFZGI/AAAAAAAADc8/GaqOiKDIPLg/s1600/2009sum+171.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SwycjFTFZGI/AAAAAAAADc8/GaqOiKDIPLg/s400/2009sum+171.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407869379096700002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SwycipkuniI/AAAAAAAADc0/BqBZ_mTP6Ao/s1600/2009sum+150.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SwycipkuniI/AAAAAAAADc0/BqBZ_mTP6Ao/s400/2009sum+150.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407869371654512162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have yet another goal for this month—I want to finish the throw blanket I’ve been meaning to complete for the last I don’t know how many years.  No, I’m not kidding.  I’ve promised my daughter to crochet her a blanket since she was 11 years old.  (She may have been younger—I’ve lost count of the years.)  She brings it up now and then, and teases me about it, so I am really going to try and finish it THIS YEAR.  I’ve started various times, throughout the years to make good on this promise to her, only to put it aside for one reason or another.  I’ve had various good intentions of start of blankets that are “somewhere” in a bag in the attic.  Sad, huh?  I  vow that I WILL MAKE GOOD and finish this blanket---hopefully before the start of the new year!  You read it here folks!  THEN, I will finish that green and blue blanket I started for Andrew (that started over 8 years ago-gee I hope I can still find the same color yarn.)   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are on the heels of Thanksgiving...  So, here is a list of my thankfuls:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I'm thankful that my kids are healthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I'm thankful that I and my husband have a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  I'm thankful for the bills we can pay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I'm thankful that I live in a safe, loving, stable home.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  I'm thankful that I have a good man for a husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  I'm thankful for the children we share our lives with.  They aren't always easy to live with, but they are ours.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  I'm thankful for my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  I'm thankful for the simple things, smiles, giggles, hugs and "I love yous"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  I'm thankful to be alive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I'm thankful to realize that I have a lot to be thankful for...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Swygu7Cc7kI/AAAAAAAADdc/B2dBr-MVdlQ/s1600/2009sum+179.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Swygu7Cc7kI/AAAAAAAADdc/B2dBr-MVdlQ/s400/2009sum+179.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407873980547526210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-4245893527157149460?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4245893527157149460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=4245893527157149460' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/4245893527157149460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/4245893527157149460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/11/traveling-velvet-shorts.html' title='The Traveling Velvet Shorts..'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SwykTe9jddI/AAAAAAAADdk/XONNlCKyCR4/s72-c/2009sum+224.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-2742002156120934673</id><published>2009-11-04T19:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T22:11:07.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Magicians, Rabbits &amp; Candy... OH MY!</title><content type='html'>Well, Halloween came and went, and we all survived!  The day started with some &lt;em&gt;unnecessary drama&lt;/em&gt;, but ended quite well!  Here are few pictures from the magical evening...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJLCOR1P_I/AAAAAAAADas/ieUH3mw50As/s1600-h/bear+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJLCOR1P_I/AAAAAAAADas/ieUH3mw50As/s400/bear+001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400461404735356914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nicholas, the Magician&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJLk7DCttI/AAAAAAAADa0/_I7B-EUSpXg/s1600-h/bear+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJLk7DCttI/AAAAAAAADa0/_I7B-EUSpXg/s400/bear+003.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400462000868472530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me and my little magician&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My pictures are a little dark---couldn't get the flash to work...but we figured it out later:  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJMkqOZ41I/AAAAAAAADa8/Gm6jkkStIb4/s1600-h/bear+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJMkqOZ41I/AAAAAAAADa8/Gm6jkkStIb4/s400/bear+004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400463095864353618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nicholas will make this candy disappear! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJNegtA0UI/AAAAAAAADbM/b1CXPlePKeQ/s1600-h/bear+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJNegtA0UI/AAAAAAAADbM/b1CXPlePKeQ/s400/bear+011.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400464089740792130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJNeVk6oeI/AAAAAAAADbE/-jmUa2j_j-8/s1600-h/bear+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJNeVk6oeI/AAAAAAAADbE/-jmUa2j_j-8/s400/bear+005.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400464086754042338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What do you mean?  I always dress like this when I'm in my kitchen..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJOKH3dYII/AAAAAAAADbc/xeqcSr1j4xU/s1600-h/bear+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJOKH3dYII/AAAAAAAADbc/xeqcSr1j4xU/s400/bear+021.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400464838987964546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nick trying to make me disappear--didn't work.. &lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJOJTslWiI/AAAAAAAADbU/TW-CwGXuWGM/s1600-h/bear+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJOJTslWiI/AAAAAAAADbU/TW-CwGXuWGM/s400/bear+012.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400464824983706146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lizzy &amp; Nicholas--the magicians.. &lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lizzy had her own rabbit..  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJPJjBcj4I/AAAAAAAADb0/TADL81PpEts/s1600-h/bear+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJPJjBcj4I/AAAAAAAADb0/TADL81PpEts/s400/bear+029.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400465928609369986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJPJAzex2I/AAAAAAAADbs/VvydHiBOCtc/s1600-h/bear+028.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJPJAzex2I/AAAAAAAADbs/VvydHiBOCtc/s400/bear+028.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400465919423989602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJPI8KBZrI/AAAAAAAADbk/LDYBct_WZhs/s1600-h/bear+024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJPI8KBZrI/AAAAAAAADbk/LDYBct_WZhs/s400/bear+024.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400465918176356018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's not every day you find two white rabbits on your porch.. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After only a trip around the block Nicholas was happy with his amount of candy.  I was a bit surprised, but I guess I should be thankful that he really didn't want much more.  This all means less temptation for everyone else.  I heard on the radio that if you eat just ONE fun size candy, you would have to walk a mile to burn it off!  Have two candies?  That's two miles..  It just doesn't seem fair, does it?  I tell you that I was looking forward to walking a little more with Nicholas because I had this in mind, but since he decided to call it an early night, it was probably for the best!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regretably, I have no photos of Andrew, my Cereal Killer.  He spent the night at my mom's and hung out with his friends that night, but was home by 10 pm.  He wore a shirt with torn cereal boxes, and cereal glued all over, with random splatters of fake blood all day to the dismay of my mother.  She had it hanging outside in the backyard the next day claiming it was attracting ants.  I have a feeling it will be hanging in Andrew's closet very soon.  No, I'm not too excited, but hope to take a few pictures of it before it goes "mysteriously missing."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;October is gone, and November promises to be another busy month..  Will check in later on that!  Have a good one!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJsNG3FXII/AAAAAAAADb8/QeItFx9L4E8/s1600-h/bear+020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJsNG3FXII/AAAAAAAADb8/QeItFx9L4E8/s400/bear+020.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400497875606396034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-2742002156120934673?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2742002156120934673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=2742002156120934673' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/2742002156120934673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/2742002156120934673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/11/magicians-rabbits-candy-oh-my.html' title='Magicians, Rabbits &amp; Candy... OH MY!'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SvJLCOR1P_I/AAAAAAAADas/ieUH3mw50As/s72-c/bear+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-4678656238975420309</id><published>2009-10-29T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T10:05:51.924-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye October!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Susc0HBmHVI/AAAAAAAADak/jqCnIgNYj1U/s1600-h/hallo.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Susc0HBmHVI/AAAAAAAADak/jqCnIgNYj1U/s400/hallo.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398440259898187090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost the end of October..two more months until the year is over.  Halloween is at the door, and I can already smell the Thanksgiving turkey---oh, and don't forget Christmas... It's hard not to realize that the holidays are coming.  I'm reminded each time I enter a grocery store or a mall.  The turkey basters are all ready on display admist the left over, last minute Halloween candy, and from the corner you can already see red and green in the aisles screaming Christmas.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you ready?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we ever ready?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;October was a weird month.  October has never really been a good month for me--there are some memories associated with the month that I really don't care for.  It includes the passing of a baby niece of mine, an anniversary of a large earthquake that shook my little hometown, and the beginning of end of my first marriage.  My son Andrew most recently lost a former classmate this month due to a fatal stabbing. He was 16 years old.  It was an incident of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The suspects are known gang members and only one is in custody.  Three still remain "out there".  The victim was not a gang member, but was wearing red shoelaces-the color of his high school; my school.  It boggles the mind that something could happen like this in my hometown-two blocks from the high school, and three blocks from the police station.  We do live in a scary world. Andrew has been emotional, and has been asking for extra hugs, and sitting a little more close to me nowadays.  He better never complain about his 10 pm curfew ever again!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I put the finishing touches on Andrew and Nicholas' costume.  Now that I have sole possession of my camera, I hope to post some pictures of Halloween events.  I have Andrew's cereal killer shirt hanging in van, and it's pretty scary looking.  Picture boxes of cereal boxes on a white shirt, with cereal glued on the shirt, with fake blood.  Sounds harmless, but after Lizzy helped me with the blood splatters, we had it hanging by the front door, and it looked rather creepy under the moonlight.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicholas is a magician!  I got a black cape, and wrote "Nicholas the Fabulous" with glue paint on the back of his cape, which got mixed reviews: "It sounds like a label for either a cheesy wrestler or a drag queen." So I added "the magician" at the end, and it fixed the "problem".  Of course Nicholas heard these comments and didn't want to be teased, but after reminding him that most of his classmates couldn't read anyway, no would would know what I wrote.  This morning when he was running in the playground at kindergarten, he felt better because no one did, and he seemed content enough to see how his cape blew in the wind.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lizzy was so inspired by Nicholas' costume, she too has decided to be a magician, and her boyfriend is going to be a rabbit.  This all inspired me of course to also dress as a rabbit, or should I say---COELHA.  So, this should make interesting pictures.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband, Richard is going to dress like a dad and husband.  He doesn't do Halloween, but that is okay, because he makes it fits the part most excellently.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I'm going to meet up with an old friend that I haven't seen since my "newly divorced, single days."  Last time I saw her she was engaged with her now husband.  It will be nice to play catch up with her over a margarita--hell, may be I'll even bring my camera after I delete all these advertising photos Lizzy took of tampons and fingernail polish.  The other day she made me a hand model for a advertisment photo for nail polish.  I will tell you, my fingers started to cramp up.  I had to hold down a 4 inch crooked nail "gracefully" with the tip of my nail.  Not as easy as you may imagine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay...it's Friday!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-4678656238975420309?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4678656238975420309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=4678656238975420309' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/4678656238975420309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/4678656238975420309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/10/bye-october.html' title='Bye October!'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Susc0HBmHVI/AAAAAAAADak/jqCnIgNYj1U/s72-c/hallo.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-1711055175940921538</id><published>2009-10-18T09:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T15:36:51.519-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Airport Adventure</title><content type='html'>Recently, Rich and I flew into Los Angeles (LAX) airport to spend time with his family. It was a very short trip, San Jose to L.A. on Saturday morning, returning early Sunday afternoon. Very short, but hey better than driving, right? I think we did more "riding around" in the airports more than we did when we drove in our rental car and our final destination! We had flown to Vegas last year, but apparently, I'm getting rusty, (or just old) when it comes to airports. Remember I was the one leaving Portugal with a bottle of Cognac in my carry on.. DUH.. A big NO NO! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, when we got to San Jose Mineta International, we decided to park in the long term parking. Good thing we were parked in section C, than section S. The "trolley" bus went through the alphabet with this annoying woman's recorded voice at each lettered section. "You are now entering Parking Lot section "D"...etc...etc.." All that took a good 15 minutes of driving in circles. Imagine having that job--driving around a parking lot in circles, listening to that annoying woman's voice, over and over again. I tell you, that must be pure hell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we got to the airport, I got my e-tickets printed at the kiosk--that was simple enough, and off we went to our "favorite place" -- SECURITY. What a lovely working crew that was. I'm sorry, but the people working there are just plain mean. I'm sure they are just lovely people outside of the airport. Perhaps, they have to be "mean" for the job? I know people who work inside a jail--it comes with the territory, but must I always feel like a criminal when I go through security? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Take off your shoes, and any metal items, and put it in the plastic container.." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simple enough, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lady, that includes your jacket.." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I put my jacket in there, and walk through the security, so glad I wasn't wearing a belt. People wearing belts, were undressing all over the place, in the undressing area. Men and women holding their pants, barefoot, disoriented.. It's easy to feel a little humiliation. Remind me to where flip flops next time! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, I love airports. I don't know exactly why, but ever since I was younger I've always had the attraction. The atmosphere, the mood, the people. I remember sitting there watching people go by-some of them running, some of them walking, some happy, some sad.. Sometimes on a occasion you may even see a celebrity, most of the time not. It's a great place to "people watch". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we got ourselves near our departure gate, and I got a bagel, and we just sat there waiting, and relaxed in front of Noah's Bagels when we hear the "last call" for our flight. Last call?! What happened to our FIRST CALL?! Well, luckily we were near the gate, and by the time we got on the plane, we were the last ones so we didn't have to wait in line. The plane was small, but we couldn't see the pilot from our seat like the time we flew to Vegas, so that was good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a 45 minute flight, we touched down on at LAX, and off to another trolley for our rental car, where we were "entertained" non-stop by the guy sitting near us at the back of the bus, who was talking to his friend on his cellphone and then to his "baby's momma" for another 20 minutes. It's interesting how some people don't really care how much personal stuff they reveal about themselves when talking on a phone. When we got to the rental car line at Avis, he was still talking to his "baby's momma" behind us in line for another 15 minutes. I still remember a lot of the conversation, I feel I could write a book about this guy's life. I feel like I know the guy, but again, I don't even know his name. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/StuWo7aq8kI/AAAAAAAADaU/TgliNsf4GO0/s1600-h/marinadelrey+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/StuWo7aq8kI/AAAAAAAADaU/TgliNsf4GO0/s400/marinadelrey+017.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394070608594793026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got a sweet ride.. A beautiful red Camaro....very nice, after you get used to the seemingly small front window. We stayed in beautiful Marina Del Rey, and our sister-inlaw's house is in Venice. We drove only a gallon worth of gasoline to and from to her house. A good maybe 10 minutes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/StuVQ0r7SDI/AAAAAAAADaM/uQ7cf4VI6CA/s1600-h/marinadelrey+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/StuVQ0r7SDI/AAAAAAAADaM/uQ7cf4VI6CA/s400/marinadelrey+005.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394069094959630386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we left the next day for home, we dropped of the pretty Camaro at the rental car place, and got into another trolley--another 10 minute drive to the airport. I got stopped at security for carrying a bottle of water in my purse. Damn. DUH. We were early, and decided to just stay near our gate. Little did we know our gate was in a separate location. So, we had to get into yet another trolley bus, another 5 minute drive to a gate that looked like a shack from the outside. We waited a hour there eating cafeteria, bland sandwiches at the only little food place that was there. Did I mention how cold it was? It was cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally got into the plane, and chose to be the last ones on the plane this time. Why wait in a line again? Yes, we were anxious to get home, but we were tired. Once we got home to San Jose, back in the parking lot trolley to our long term parking, and the annoying woman and her monotone voice:  "You are now entering Section..." A strange woman with a straw hat covering her face wearing long knee high socks came in and sat near Rich. She smelled like Vapor Rub. Another 10 minutes on that trolley... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn it was great to get home!  We had a fun time at Marina del Rey with the family-a nice birthday surprise.  Unfortunately, I forgot my camera so I have no pictures with family.  We took a wharf walk up and down the marina, where there are hotels and aparments overlooking the harbor.  We stayed at the Ritz Carlton-definitely the most nicest hotels I've EVER been at.  Great weekend-which we stayed longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/StuYMNaFFpI/AAAAAAAADac/dpYia4cVIL4/s1600-h/marinadelrey+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/StuYMNaFFpI/AAAAAAAADac/dpYia4cVIL4/s400/marinadelrey+004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394072314231199378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Our view from our balcony&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I read this in the news---so happens it was at the apartment buildings we passed on our walk near the Marina, about a man found dead sitting on the balcony:  http://www.thesunnews.com/253/story/1120575.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God we didn't see this guy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-1711055175940921538?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1711055175940921538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=1711055175940921538' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/1711055175940921538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/1711055175940921538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/10/airport-adventure.html' title='Airport Adventure'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/StuWo7aq8kI/AAAAAAAADaU/TgliNsf4GO0/s72-c/marinadelrey+017.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-844470178449320670</id><published>2009-10-14T15:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T16:05:34.248-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Over The Top..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/StZTxXtGEJI/AAAAAAAADZc/lQCdN6UH8uE/s1600-h/overthetop.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 156px; height: 149px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/StZTxXtGEJI/AAAAAAAADZc/lQCdN6UH8uE/s400/overthetop.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392589711464599698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a little late with this, but Wini nominated me for an Over the Top award! Thank you!! Play along! The rules of this award are as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Answer the questions below using only one word&lt;br /&gt;~Thank the blogger who gave it to you: Thank you, Wini!&lt;br /&gt;~Pass it on to 4 other bloggers---put consider yourselves all included! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, on with the questions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Where is your cell phone? Purse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Your hair? Ponytail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Your mother? Home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Your father? Heaven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Your favorite food? Cheese&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Your dream last night? Silly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Your favorite drink? Margarita&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Your dream/goal? Retire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. What room are you in? Livingroom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Your hobby? Family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Your fear? Sickness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Ocean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Where were you last night? Car&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Something you aren't? Jealous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Muffins? Blueberry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Wish list item? Paint&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Where did you grow up? Santa Cruz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Last thing you did? Ate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. What are you wearing? Jeans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Your TV? Big&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Your pets? Gone :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Your friends? Thankful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Your life? Good&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Your mood? Lazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Missing someone? Always :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Vehicle? Van&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Something you're not wearing? Socks! (My feet are freezing!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Your favorite store? Ross (Treasure hunt city..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Your favorite color? Red&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. When was the last time you laughed? Morning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Last time you cried? Morning (laughed until I cried..does that count?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Your best friend? Rich&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. One place that I go over and over? Mom's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. One person who emails me regularly? Floreen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. Favorite place to eat? Home &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I've had a busy week... Currently, it looks like son Andrew has caught on to what Nick had, what I had, and what Richard had. :( Throw up city once again. Lizzy wasn't feeling too well the other day, but no throw up episode which is good, because Rich and I left on a little mini weekend away to meet with his family in Venice Beach. Despite Rich not feeling 100% we did manage to have a great time with his family at my father-inlaw's surprise birthday bash at the "Louella Country Club"! It was great! It started with Bloody Mary's on the terrace overlooking the yacht harbor in Marina Del Rey, at the Ritz Carlton.. BEAUTIFUL HOTEL, I may add.... Will post some pictures as soon as I can find the cord for my camera--I haven't seen it since Lizzy's tampon photo shoot.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun is finally shining through the window right now, and it completely different than it did yesterday. We had 60 mph winds over there, with very HEAVY rain. I don't know what I was thinking driving over the mountains yesterday morning. It was raining, cats and dogs, and various farm animals. I wasn't expecting to see a stalled car facing the opposite direction in the fast lane either. I let out a scream, and drove with both hands on the wheel--we are talking white knuckle city. It hardly rained today, and that is good---there is a lot of mud out there just waiting to slide down the mountain. Fortunately, we don't live close to that area, so we are good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/StZYcZlCEuI/AAAAAAAADZk/f3RMU8zni_k/s1600-h/JulieHalloween0510.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/StZYcZlCEuI/AAAAAAAADZk/f3RMU8zni_k/s400/JulieHalloween0510.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392594848748540642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-844470178449320670?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/844470178449320670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=844470178449320670' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/844470178449320670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/844470178449320670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/10/over-top.html' title='Over The Top..'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/StZTxXtGEJI/AAAAAAAADZc/lQCdN6UH8uE/s72-c/overthetop.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-8776964116324910285</id><published>2009-10-08T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T21:26:17.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No More Holes In The Wall!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i0006.photobucket.com/albums/0006/findstuff22/Best%20Images/Holiday/baby_costume1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="http://i0006.photobucket.com/albums/0006/findstuff22/Best%20Images/Holiday/baby_costume1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home to nicely patched up walls! I no longer can see pipes! I'm so happy! Things are getting back to normal, despite all the sheet rock dust...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy to report that I am feeling almost 100% better now. Hubby still isn't at that point yet, but he is better than he was yesterday. We can now look forward to the weekend! We are leaving Saturday morning, LAX bound so we can spend some time with Rich's family. His step-dad is turning the big 75, and we are going to surprise him at my sister-in-law's house along with Rich's other siblings. It should be a lot of fun---need to take my camera. We are staying at a really nice hotel in Marina del Rey.. Almost wish we were staying for a longer period of time, but it will be fun to just get away for awhile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must tell you something about my tooth pain. It is gone! I accredit it all to the miracle drug elixer of warm salt water. I am not kidding---it works so well---there is nothing better! I cannot believe I forgot about it! I swear upon it now! After taking it, the pain almost immediately went away. My son tried it for himself this evening because he was complaining of a canker sore. He laughed when I suggested it, but now, he is also a true believer! "Mom! My mouth doesn't hurt anymore!" Nothing like the old fashioned water and salt...oh, and yes, whiskey works too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halloween is soon upon us, and Nicholas has announced what he wants his costume to be: A Magician. I don't know where he got that idea, but it will work. All I need is a top hat, and a black cape, and a wand... I tried to convince him to be a wizard, but he insists on being a magician--his mind is set on it, so magician it will be! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned on Facebook that Lizzy was doing a photo shoot in the front yard for tampons. I wasn't kidding... Here is the picture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Ss66DIvxTZI/AAAAAAAADZU/W0un8erlRaE/s1600-h/n1165461988_5055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 259px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Ss66DIvxTZI/AAAAAAAADZU/W0un8erlRaE/s400/n1165461988_5055.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390450367059283346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Hey, I'm holding the yellow poster board behind Lizzy if you are wondering..) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-8776964116324910285?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8776964116324910285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=8776964116324910285' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/8776964116324910285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/8776964116324910285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/10/no-more-holes-in-wall.html' title='No More Holes In The Wall!'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Ss66DIvxTZI/AAAAAAAADZU/W0un8erlRaE/s72-c/n1165461988_5055.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-6280868842457772160</id><published>2009-10-06T20:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T20:54:15.712-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking forward to the weekend...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee19/KimCandy2/Halloween/Pwitch.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 358px; height: 310px;" src="http://i234.photobucket.com/albums/ee19/KimCandy2/Halloween/Pwitch.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's been an interesting week...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between the various strange men that have "invaded" our home, tearing up the walls, putting in the new copper pipes,and Nicholas coming home with a terrible stomach virus, my week has been a combination of bathroom visits (running towards the sink because I'm going to puke) with intermediate runs to the toilet, and misplaced furniture and Avon boxes I've have around for storage.  Nick got sick, I got it, and then husband got it.  I think I have had an average 3 to 4 hour night's sleep the last 4 days. The bathrooms are a mess, and I have holes in my walls.  This all makes me feel, I don't know---unbalanced--I hate disorganization! I like things neat, and their place!  To top it off, I went to the dentist a few weeks ago and got a filling for a tooth that wasn't bothering me.  Suddenly this tooth, that they "fixed" is hurting me!  I don't know if it's my gums, or what... I dragged myself to work today, and I thought I was feeling better, until boss lady said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh Julie, you look horrible!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lovely.  I was told to go home--so I did-not until I looked in the mirror a dozen times to really see if I looked that way.  My mom said my eye looked swollen, and that I was looking a little "sonhsa" : Portuguese slang meaning: tired looking.  Lovely..  By mid-day I felt like a troll.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of trolls, I apparently have one...ain't that special?  Someone really needs a new hobby--that is all I'm going to say.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm hoping for things to change because we have plans for the weekend.  (Keeping fingers crossed..)  Hopefully by the end of the week, the holes will be patched up, and the pipes will pass inspection, so by next week we can start painting!  YAY!  No longer will we have those nasty rusty pipes!  No more rust stains to scrub off in the bath tub!  YAY!  I took a look of the old ones that they took out, and it was really disgusting/scary to see how much rust have accumlated throughout the years...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I went home after the suggestion of my boss lady, and picked up Nicholas.  We came home to find husband laying on the couch sleeping, so I went upstairs and "cleaned things up" from last night's episode of bathroom runs.  Despite the holes and the towels covering the holes up, things are tidy again, and disinfected for another day until the "men" come to patch up the walls.  Another round of dust is coming.  They do cover everything up with plastic, but dust has a way of getting everywhere.  So, I will try and stay positive, because that is all I can do, right?  Tomorrow is Wednesday--the week is almost over!  Saturday we will all be feeling well, and we will ENJOY our weekend!  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i173.photobucket.com/albums/w45/manateeshockey/halloween/HallowsEve5_100209Julie.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 600px;" src="http://i173.photobucket.com/albums/w45/manateeshockey/halloween/HallowsEve5_100209Julie.png" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-6280868842457772160?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6280868842457772160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=6280868842457772160' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/6280868842457772160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/6280868842457772160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/10/looking-forward-to-weekend.html' title='Looking forward to the weekend...'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-4471759718192942776</id><published>2009-09-18T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T16:29:43.097-07:00</updated><title type='text'>40 Things..</title><content type='html'>I got this in an email from a good friend of mine--it's pretty much all true!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;40 things in the life of a Portuguese Child&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;01.You have at least one relative who wore a black dress every day for an entire year after a funeral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;02.You spent your entire childhood thinking what you ate for lunch was pronounced "sanweesha."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;03.Your family dog understood Portuguese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;04. Every Sunday afternoon of your childhood was spent visiting your grandparents and extended family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;05. You've experienced the phenomena of 150 people fitting into 50 square feet of yard during a family cookout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;06.You were surprised to discover the FDA recommends you eat three meals a day, not seven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;07.You thought killing the pig each year and having torressmos, morcella,linguica and a hanging dead pig from the ceiling was absolutely normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;08.You ate sopa de covos for dinner at least three times a week, and every Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;09.You grew up thinking no fruit or vegetable had a fixed price and that the price of everything was negotiable through haggling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.You were as tall as your grandmother by the age of seven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.You thought everyone's last name ended in a vowel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.You thought nylons were supposed to be worn rolled to the ankles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.Your mom's main hobby is cleaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.You were surprised to find out that wine was actually sold in stores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15.You thought that everyone made their own bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16.You never ate meat on Christmas Eve or any Friday or that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17.You ate your salad after the main course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18.You thought Catholic was the only religion in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Your were beaten at least once with a wooden spoon or broom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20.You thought every meal had to be eaten with a hunk of bread in your left hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21.You can understand Portuguese but you can't speak it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22.You have at least one relative who came over on the boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23.All of your uncles fled to America to not go to the war in Angola or they went to the war in Angola.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24.You have at least six male relatives named Tony, Luis, Joao, Fernando, Jose or Manel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25.You have relatives who aren't really your relatives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26.You have relatives you don't speak to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27.You drank wine before you were a teenager.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28.You were pinched under the arm in church by your mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29.You grew up in a house with a yard that didn't have one patch of dirt that didn't have a flower or a vegetable growing, or a grape vine covering it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30.Your grandparent's furniture was as comfortable as sitting on plastic. Wait!!!! You were sitting on plastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31.You thought that talking loud was normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32.You thought sugared almonds were common at all weddings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33.You thought everyone got pinched on the cheeks and money stuffed in their pockets by their relatives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34.Your mother is overly protective of the males in the family no matter what their age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. There was a crucifix in every room of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36.You couldn't date a boy without getting approval from your father. (oh,and he has to be Portuguese).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37.You called any pasta "shpargett".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38.You dreaded taking out your lunch at school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. Going out for a cup of coffee usually meant going out for a cup of coffee over Tia's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40 Every condition, ailment, misfortune, memory loss and accident was attributed to the fact that you didn't eat something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SrPQZ2V909I/AAAAAAAADY8/dQAphvaiGM0/s1600-h/AutumnSWCC.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 384px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SrPQZ2V909I/AAAAAAAADY8/dQAphvaiGM0/s400/AutumnSWCC.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382875122140828626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-4471759718192942776?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4471759718192942776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=4471759718192942776' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/4471759718192942776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/4471759718192942776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-got-this-in-email-from-good-friend-of.html' title='40 Things..'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SrPQZ2V909I/AAAAAAAADY8/dQAphvaiGM0/s72-c/AutumnSWCC.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-5533229450648639955</id><published>2009-09-18T11:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T16:08:40.634-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Better Later, than Never--Thankful Thursday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SrPPLzukk2I/AAAAAAAADY0/K2pegMGM8pQ/s1600-h/kids.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SrPPLzukk2I/AAAAAAAADY0/K2pegMGM8pQ/s400/kids.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382873781408928610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;An oldie, but a goodie.. My two older kids with my niece and nephew, circa 1999  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankful Thursday, a day late..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I’m thankful for my three kids—they keep my life exciting, whether it’s driving my oldest out with her friends to a nightclub (I got invited to join them by the way—80’s night—and yes, I was almost tempted—may be next time), listening to my son be-bopping around the house, watching my youngest perform in a school assembly, they choose to include me in their lives, and that is something that I will be forever thankful for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. My family van.  Not only can I fit the kids in there, but there is always room for a few friends, Avon brochures, and Grandma and her famous lasagna.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I’m thankful I can appreciate and recognize the good things in life.  A good husband, a secure home, good kids, friends and family.  I have been truly blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I’m thankful I have the intelligence to know when to acknowledge and respond, and when to keep quiet.  There are some things that really aren’t worth my time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I’m thankful that I’m comfortable in my own skin.  I realize that there will always be people who may not like me, or may resent me for just being alive.  That is just fine.  I’m not on this Earth just to please certain people.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  I’m thankful for my job.  I’m thankful I have a job when many have lost their own.  I’m thankful for the 22 years of job security, and the medical and dental insurance that covers the entire family.  I’m thankful I learned strong work ethics at an early age.  I’ve thankful my parents taught me the importance of earning your own money.  Yes, and I’m thankful for those years in my life where I found myself working a 65+ hour week when I was a single mother.  I learned to rely on myself, and it made me a stronger person. My hats off to all the working single moms out there! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I’m thankful I waited a year after my divorce before I started dating.   Although, however some of the experience I could have lived without. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Yes, and I am thankful for my first marriage-it produced two wonderful kids who I cannot imagine my world without.  The whole experience makes me appreciate my life right now so much more.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Lastly, but not least, for the good friends in my life who are always there to listen and laugh with.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Weekends away!  Just booked a weekend away with husband for next month!  YAY!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May you all have a wonderful weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-5533229450648639955?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5533229450648639955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=5533229450648639955' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/5533229450648639955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/5533229450648639955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/09/better-later-than-never-thankful.html' title='Better Later, than Never--Thankful Thursday'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SrPPLzukk2I/AAAAAAAADY0/K2pegMGM8pQ/s72-c/kids.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-4717930954398431358</id><published>2009-09-15T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T11:29:00.131-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye To A True Cowboy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sq_ZjW_4o5I/AAAAAAAADYc/AIkSQLNjmCw/s1600-h/patrick-swayze02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sq_ZjW_4o5I/AAAAAAAADYc/AIkSQLNjmCw/s400/patrick-swayze02.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381759281223213970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when I thought Mondays couldn't get any worse, last night I heard of the passing of one of my favorite celebrities; a true American hero to many-Patrick Swayze.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was a beautiful, brave man who fought a good fight, and lived his life with grace and dignity; a true, blue cowboy, and boy did he know how to dance!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sq_aSA0RY-I/AAAAAAAADYk/zmhUTjdNi2c/s1600-h/Patrick%2520Swayze.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 378px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sq_aSA0RY-I/AAAAAAAADYk/zmhUTjdNi2c/s400/Patrick%2520Swayze.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381760082722776034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where Have All The Cowboys Gone&lt;br /&gt;Paula Cole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh you get me ready in your 56 Chevy&lt;br /&gt;Why don't we go sit down in the shade?&lt;br /&gt;Take shelter on my front porch&lt;br /&gt;The dandy lion sun scorching,&lt;br /&gt;Like a glass of cold lemonade?&lt;br /&gt;I will do laundry if you pay all the bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is my John Wayne?&lt;br /&gt;Where is my prairie son?&lt;br /&gt;Where is my happy ending?&lt;br /&gt;Where have all the Cowboys gone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why don't you stay the evening&lt;br /&gt;Kick back and watch the TV&lt;br /&gt;And I'll fix a little somethin' to eat?&lt;br /&gt;Oh I know your back hurts from working on the tractor&lt;br /&gt;How do you take your coffee my sweet?&lt;br /&gt;I will raise the children if you pay all the bills?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Chorus)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am wearing my new dress tonight&lt;br /&gt;But you don't even notice me.&lt;br /&gt;Say our goodbyes&lt;br /&gt;Say our goodbyes&lt;br /&gt;Say our goodbyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally sold the Chevy&lt;br /&gt;When we had another baby&lt;br /&gt;And you took that job in Tennessee&lt;br /&gt;You made friends at the farm&lt;br /&gt;And you joined them at the bar&lt;br /&gt;Almost every single day of the week&lt;br /&gt;I will wash the dishes while you go have a beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is my John Wayne?&lt;br /&gt;Where is my prairie son?&lt;br /&gt;Where is my happy ending?&lt;br /&gt;Where have all the Cowboys gone?&lt;br /&gt;Where is my Marlboro Man?&lt;br /&gt;Where is my shiny gun?&lt;br /&gt;Where is my lonely ranger?&lt;br /&gt;Where have all the cowboys gone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yippee Aw, Yippee Yea&lt;br /&gt;Yippee Aw, Yippee Yea&lt;br /&gt;Yippee Aw, Yippee Yea&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sq_b7f3xkKI/AAAAAAAADYs/oxgnLU9V0Eg/s1600-h/CAMR614D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 87px; height: 121px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sq_b7f3xkKI/AAAAAAAADYs/oxgnLU9V0Eg/s400/CAMR614D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381761894945231010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May you rest in internal peace.  You shall be missed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-4717930954398431358?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4717930954398431358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=4717930954398431358' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/4717930954398431358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/4717930954398431358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/09/bad-rhymes-with-sad.html' title='Goodbye To A True Cowboy'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sq_ZjW_4o5I/AAAAAAAADYc/AIkSQLNjmCw/s72-c/patrick-swayze02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-6237424177007071641</id><published>2009-09-14T12:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T12:52:20.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Basket Case</title><content type='html'>It finally rained last night!  The weather all weekend was balmy and sticky—thank God for the rain!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m having a dilemma!  Should I buy a booth at the Christmas Boutique at church, or should I skip it this year?  I did it last year with some success—I did get 3 recruitments from the booth, and some sales-but I think between the cost of the booth, the time and energy and sales, I generally broke even.  If I do decide to do it this year, I will definitely do some things differently.  If I have a demo, I’ll have to buy a few of each so I can sell it right there and then.  I had a few Christmas animated demos that the kids really liked to look at—you know the little Christmas tree that lights up, and the dancing penguins, and I wish I could have had a few on hand to sell right then and there.  People don’t like to be told, “you can order it and get it later.” I will also have to charge tax—I didn’t do it last time, and I think that was a mistake.  It’s a whole weekend project, from 8 to 5 pm.  Last year I was sicker than a dog, and I was new at it, and didn’t know what to expect.  I dragged myself over there, and I know I sounded, and felt like a two pack smoker, and whiskey guzzling ole’ woman.  That alone may have scared a few potential customers.   “Hhhello---would yer like to buy some Avvoon?”  At the same time, it was kind of fun—I mean if I had felt better it would have gone better.  I met a few nice people there, and I was warned right away by the lady at the booth next to mine, to whom not to accept checks from—something you wouldn’t think to be a concern at a church boutique, huh?   Another issue is the time.  By the end of the week, after working, my daily commute, the kids, my mom, and keeping up with the house, etc., I really don’t have the time.  The weekend is the only time basically I have.  I’ll have to make the time if I do decide to commit to it.   I went to a craft store over the weekend, and I left the building inspired, but I’m I haven’t decided yet.  Over the weekend I did assemble a gift basket that I was asked to donate.  It was fun to make—I could easily make 50 more.  We shall see it’s in November!  What’s in November:  my son’s birthday, a cousin’s wedding, and Thanksgiving.  It’s going to be a busy month either way, but what month isn’t, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have some fixing to do at this site---was not able to get to it and update anything.  May have to wait until the end of the week, the way things are going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came across the book the other day, it’s called:  14,000 Things To Be Happy About, by Barbara Kipfer.  The way the world is today, and all the negativity, I think it’s important to be happy, and grateful.  I think it’s easy to forget to be happy.  Here are a few:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Racing a bike &lt;br /&gt;2. Saving money on almost everything&lt;br /&gt;3. Sailboat sails&lt;br /&gt;4. Babies burping&lt;br /&gt;5. Leftover flower children&lt;br /&gt;6. Echoes in a cave&lt;br /&gt;7. African violets&lt;br /&gt;8. Bread factories&lt;br /&gt;9. Grand slams&lt;br /&gt;10. The little store on the corner&lt;br /&gt;11. Fireworks&lt;br /&gt;12. Decorated Christmas trees&lt;br /&gt;13. Beach Umbrellas&lt;br /&gt;14. Love that lasts and lasts&lt;br /&gt;15. Antique pop-up books&lt;br /&gt;16. Last summer’s seashells from the beach&lt;br /&gt;17. Tooth fairies &lt;br /&gt;18. Santa’s kitchen&lt;br /&gt;19. Dr Seuss Books&lt;br /&gt;20. Falling asleep on the lawn &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you week includes at least one of these.  Have a good one!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sq6exf73DSI/AAAAAAAADYU/DGruY4Au7Fg/s1600-h/get-attachmentaspx.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 396px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sq6exf73DSI/AAAAAAAADYU/DGruY4Au7Fg/s400/get-attachmentaspx.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381413177977670946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-6237424177007071641?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6237424177007071641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=6237424177007071641' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/6237424177007071641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/6237424177007071641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/09/basket-case.html' title='Basket Case'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sq6exf73DSI/AAAAAAAADYU/DGruY4Au7Fg/s72-c/get-attachmentaspx.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-6072492873540698750</id><published>2009-09-10T11:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T19:47:17.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fixing Things</title><content type='html'>It's come to my attention that I need some cleaning up to do in regards to this Blog site----I am "following" blogs that no longer exist, or there are new ones from that list that no longer exist... So, I will start cleaning up this place soon.  SO...  I know there are a few of you that have NEW blog sites that are not updated on my side bar..  Sorry!  Please give me you new links!  Por favor!  Please!  Thanks.  Oh, and how do I edit and delete again?  If you know, please let me know..  Lately I have had little time to think too much.  I've been busy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other morning, my teenage son called to me with a dilemna:  "Mom!  Look at this! This is so wrong!"  Andrew comes down the stairs in the kitchen pointing to a new pimple sprouting on the corner of his mouth.  What is a mom to do?  I explained to him that he needs to put his acne ointment on it, and he has to CLEAN his face everyday...etc..  But that didn't go well with Andrew-no he wanted a quick fix to his problem.  How I wish I had a magic wand to fix it all, or have the powers of one of my favorite childhood heroines from Bewtiched, Samantha.  If only I could just wiggle my nose and fix it all! Still, it was still sweet for Andrew to think I could "fix it".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SqlC6_Bt8nI/AAAAAAAADYM/wFr4U_uth6g/s1600-h/bewitched.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SqlC6_Bt8nI/AAAAAAAADYM/wFr4U_uth6g/s400/bewitched.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379904810989253234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of fixing, and cleaning, I'm happy to report that my wonderful hubby, who just about can FIX, anything is almost finished with the "attic project".  Soon we will be able to go through the garage and clean and discard or save the stuff we put in there since we moved in six years ago.  Who knows what we will find.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-6072492873540698750?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/6072492873540698750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=6072492873540698750' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/6072492873540698750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/6072492873540698750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/09/mixed-thoughts.html' title='Fixing Things'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SqlC6_Bt8nI/AAAAAAAADYM/wFr4U_uth6g/s72-c/bewitched.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-2726908242278620258</id><published>2009-09-09T18:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T19:08:21.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Catch Up With Me Life!  (Playing Catch Up, yet AGAIN)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SqhTi7Xg_2I/AAAAAAAADXs/b99SMGAqA5c/s1600-h/liz+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SqhTi7Xg_2I/AAAAAAAADXs/b99SMGAqA5c/s400/liz+002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379641614411038562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lizzy &amp; me in Disneyland&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, it’s been like forever since I last posted.  Let it be known that I feel extremely guilty about this.  I don’t know why I should feel guilty, but I do. I am so far behind with everything that is going on!  It’s frustrating!  Let it be known that the mouse on my computer is not working, so I that is part of my excuse for not submitting an entry earlier.  I don't really have another excuse besides life has been just busy.  School is back in session, and it's tough going back to the old routine. So much has gone on, but let me go back a few weeks...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks ago, my cousin, Tania asked me out for dinner.  She called late on  a Tuesday evening to ask me if I was free that Friday night.  She wanted to go out to dinner with me alone, but did not say why.  Well, I immediately went into my "worried mother hen" mode.  She reassured me that nothing was wrong, nor was she pregnant..(ha ha ha)but she kept me guessing on what this dinner was about until the very end.  It just sounded a bit mysterious.  Sure, we hadn’t seen each other for awhile since she moved into her own apartment, but she was busy with work, and studying, so poor girl didn’t have time to visit often, but why didn't she just come over to our house for dinner so she could talk to me and Rich if it was important?   Rich was a little suspicious, so was I.  Lizzy and I had a brainstorm session with Andrew, as we thought of different scenarios.  Was she going back to the Azores?  Did she or Ruben get a job offer?  Were she and Ruben moving up the wedding date?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Ruben drove us to a nice Mexican restaurant, and it wasn't until we had sat down and had our first margarita did Tania finally tell me what dinner was all about.  Tania had a proposal for me; she asked me to be her Maid of Honor---it was totally unexpected!  I was so speechless, but happy! I got up and gave her a big hug, and I think I almost cried.  Some of the patrons of the restaurant took notice, and I think they may have thought we were a lesbian couple getting married or something, or may be they thought I had a few too many, but no matter.  I’m thrilled, and honored to be chosen, and I vow to be the best Maid of Honor I can be.  I kept on asking her if she was sure.  I mean, I’m 43 years old—no spring chicken.  The last time I was a Maid of Honor was at my sister’s wedding, and I was 17.  Oh well, I guess I will do.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SqhYR7ZYTFI/AAAAAAAADX0/CR5lqQWkd0E/s1600-h/Picture178.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SqhYR7ZYTFI/AAAAAAAADX0/CR5lqQWkd0E/s400/Picture178.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379646819919219794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As previously mentioned in my earlier entry, my daughter Lizzy is now officially 21!  My daughter is now an adult!  I’m happy to report that she and her friends did not over do it on her birthday.  I dropped them off downtown around 11 pm, and went back to fetch them a little past 1 am.  I would have gotten there quicker if I had better instructions, (okay, she was a little tipsy) but no one threw up, and no one lost their shoes or bra or anything else for that matter.  All I can say is thank God for cell phones.  Right when I dropped them off at the curb in front of a bar (what every mom dreams of doing for their daughter) I get a frantic call from the birthday girl:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom!  I left my wallet in the front seat of the car!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just around the corner, and drove back to meet her. To the delight of my daughter, and her group of cheering friends, and the young men gathered at the front entrance to the bar, I passed over her wallet through the open window.  I was amazed on how many people were out and about bar hopping on a Wednesday night.  I was also surprised to later learn that newly 21 year olds get free drinking privileges.  I did not know this!  Apparently, she didn’t have to pay for one drink, nor did her friends have to pay for her.  All of drinks were “on the house” and she got to dance the night away to the late, Michael Jackson.  Damn…  I wish I had known this when I was 21.  Wait, what did I do when I was 21?  Did I go out with friends and dance to Michael Jackson at a nightclub?  No fricken way!  If I remember correctly I was in San Diego having my first margarita at restaurant on a golf course with my ex-husband, amoung a lot of older people.  I think it was senior citizen night.  Thrilling, I know.  I’m so glad Lizzy had a better time; we all want better for our kids, right?  I gave Lizzy her MAIN birthday present--tickets to see Elton John.  She was so thrilled that she totally embarrassed herself in front of her friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SqhaMBdZvWI/AAAAAAAADX8/hmU3uPst_7Q/s1600-h/liz+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SqhaMBdZvWI/AAAAAAAADX8/hmU3uPst_7Q/s400/liz+004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379648917490744674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;9/2/09 Lizzy and her girl crew before heading to the bars.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that on the ride over to the bar, the SPICE GIRLS CD was blasting in the car?  OH, if only she was 12 again, and not 21.  Or should I rather say, "Oh to be 34 again... (SIGH)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday we had a big barbecue at the house, and thanks to my niece, Tara, the margaritas flowed.  It was a good time with a lot of friends and family. Pictures to come later..  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SqhbrFp5EfI/AAAAAAAADYE/DX9j98cKnuM/s1600-h/liz+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SqhbrFp5EfI/AAAAAAAADYE/DX9j98cKnuM/s400/liz+005.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379650550704443890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yes, that's a Belle cake--one of my daughter's favorite princesses as a child.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-2726908242278620258?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/2726908242278620258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=2726908242278620258' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/2726908242278620258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/2726908242278620258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/09/catch-up-with-me-life-playing-catch-up.html' title='Catch Up With Me Life!  (Playing Catch Up, yet AGAIN)'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SqhTi7Xg_2I/AAAAAAAADXs/b99SMGAqA5c/s72-c/liz+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-1287530737898921163</id><published>2009-09-02T19:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T19:43:42.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'>21 years ago...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sp8sTRi1WoI/AAAAAAAADXk/n88EaT7FhDo/s1600-h/liz+2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sp8sTRi1WoI/AAAAAAAADXk/n88EaT7FhDo/s400/liz+2.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377065189742303874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21 years ago, I gave birth to a beautiful, baby girl named Elizabeth.. It just blows me away how this little baby, who changed my life forever, is now an adult. Perhaps an adult, but she'll always be my baby Lizzy. It's been years of ups and downs--but more ups than I could ever hope for. She's has grown to be a beautiful, caring and loving person, and I couldn't be prouder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Happy Birthday, Lizzy!! We love you!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-1287530737898921163?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1287530737898921163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=1287530737898921163' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/1287530737898921163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/1287530737898921163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/09/21-years-ago.html' title='21 years ago...'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sp8sTRi1WoI/AAAAAAAADXk/n88EaT7FhDo/s72-c/liz+2.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-7633254569799577686</id><published>2009-08-21T21:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T21:18:56.522-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mixed Thoughts &amp; Movie Review!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/So-CxgK9epI/AAAAAAAADXM/UFwek7yLHNM/s1600-h/colorsplashthumb222edit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/So-CxgK9epI/AAAAAAAADXM/UFwek7yLHNM/s400/colorsplashthumb222edit.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372656667437398674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday evening I found myself doing something I hadn't done in a long time. Wait! On second thought, I don't believe I've EVER done this before! I went to see a movie, alone. It was not fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot how awkward it feels to be somewhere ALONE. I'm not used to it. I usually have at least one of my offspring with me, or my husband with me, or a relative or a friend to accompany me somewhere, and to not have the other warm body around felt very uncomfortable. It caught me all off guard, and it kind of surprised me. I wasn't always this way! When I was single, I was more adventurous! I used to leave the house alone at night and go to bars for God's sake. I used to go on blind dates (some would have gone better if I was actually blind to tell you the truth) but I thought of nothing of going anywhere by myself. Gee, I have changed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of sitting down somewhere to eat, I chose to buy myself a sandwich and eat it in my car in the parking garage. Have I become that paranoid? I walked to the sandwich place and ordered my sandwich. The eatery was nice, clean and almost empty. The guy who made my sandwich was quite pleasant actually. I could have just sat there in this nice and safe place and read the newspaper. I could have been more comfortable there, than sitting in my van in the dark and noisy parking garage. Sitting in my van, I found myself pondering on worrisome things like how long it would take for the rescue parties to find my body if the parking garage should collapse suddenley in an earthquake. They would find me sitting there behind the wheel holding my cheese and avocado sandwich, with garden sprouts still stuck in my teeth. "How sad, and pitiful!" they would say. I can see the headline in the local paper now: "Local woman dies alone in family van while eating her veggie sandwich ..."  Without further thought, I proceeded to stuff the rest of my sandwich down my throat, and get out of the van.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something really strange happens when you go up to the window and buy ONE ticket for a show. You get that LOOK. You know, that LOOK that only you really notice. The guy behind the window gave a sad and sympathetic look. I tried to ignore it as I handed my one ticket to the lady inside. I kept on telling myself that I was being so silly.  I'm not the first person to go see a movie alone!  People do it all the time!  It's supposed to me fun and relaxing!  Right?  I went up the stairs, avoiding the escalator. I had purchased a Tolverine candy bar earlier and hid it in my purse (I still think someone is going to ask to search my purse for candy), and I could not afford talking the escalator--I needed all the exercise I could get at that point. As I made my way into the dark theatre, I was happy to see that the theatre was still pretty empty. I found the perfect spot to watch my movie, so I try to quietly go for my chair, hoping to enter unnoticed, when suddenly, KERPLUNK! I SLIP and SLIDE on a puddle left in front the next chair. Thankfully, I break my fall and don't land on my ass. I was just thankful no one noticed..or did they? I was too embarrassed to look up to find out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly the people started pouring in; mostly women. I was there to see Julie &amp; Julia, the story about Julia Child, and the story of a young woman named Julie who decides to blog about her pursuit to complete each recipe written in Child's cook book, never realizing that in fact she was learning more about herself.. Okay, I'm not going to write about the movie. Go and see it for yourself, it is worth watching! Meryl Streep was awesome! More of chick flick---looked like the same sort of audience when I went to see Mama Mia. Just a reminder however: If you are a vegetarian, I suggest you may want to think twice before viewing this film. I was sitting by two young women who actually hid their faces and turned in disgust. This is not the film for you! You will see lobsters boiled to their deaths, RAW MEAT, and dancing, dead chickens and ducks being de-boned. Also, it may be a good idea to actually EAT something before this film. If you to see it on an empty stomach, don't be surprised to hear LOUD and growling sounds coming out of your person. The other women who sat on my left kept on "eeewing and awwing" at all the food. Not a movie for people with eating disorders either, I may add.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/So-DUzQ1anI/AAAAAAAADXc/37Lh_RiQaVQ/s1600-h/JULIA.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/So-DUzQ1anI/AAAAAAAADXc/37Lh_RiQaVQ/s400/JULIA.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372657273857731186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, you are probably asking WHY I went to see a movie alone in the first place. Well, I was stuck downtown, with an awful sore throat, waiting for my son to get out of a hip hop gig of his downtown. I'm very proud of my son, but going to a club at night full of teenagers and preteens, with loud hop hop music alone did not interest me. I'd probably be tempted to do something really embarrassing, like jump on stage and say, "That's my boy!" or insist on combing his hair or readjust his clothes. I've heard Andrew say far too many times to me: "You are turning into Grandma!" Am I really? I don't know, but I can tell you I was so RELIEVED to get Andrew in the van later that night. He was so happy and excited about his performance, and I got a private bee bop session all the way home up and down Hwy 17. As soon as I saw my hubby waiting for me, I was so relieved I didn't have to go to bed alone that night, and when Nicolas crept his way into our bed and snuggled beside me, and did not mind one bit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-7633254569799577686?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/7633254569799577686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=7633254569799577686' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/7633254569799577686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/7633254569799577686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/08/mixed-thoughts-movie-review.html' title='Mixed Thoughts &amp; Movie Review!'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/So-CxgK9epI/AAAAAAAADXM/UFwek7yLHNM/s72-c/colorsplashthumb222edit.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-8423797103939568594</id><published>2009-08-14T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T13:28:26.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Micky Moused Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SoXI0js68jI/AAAAAAAADXE/p7sjnXg9AWU/s1600-h/my+honey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 384px; height: 288px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SoXI0js68jI/AAAAAAAADXE/p7sjnXg9AWU/s400/my+honey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369918935971590706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My love bug..  :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are back from our little vacation from Venice &amp; Disneyland, and as the title describes, we are pretty much "Micky Moused Out" for awhile.  We had a really fun time, but we are all tired, a little sore, and pooped!  Pictures will be posted later...no time today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week since we have been gone has been still pretty busy with loads of laundry, and lots of pre-school preparations.  School starts Monday for Andrew, Matt leaves for Sonoma State next Saturday, and Nick starts school on the 26th.  Lucky Lizzy has a month off; she finished her summer session last week.  Work starts again for me on Monday, and that is okay.  I'm THRILLED beyond belief that I am able to keep my 6 hour day work schedule!  Yay!!  The way the budget is at they have approved it all the way until next year!  Hurrah!!  Yipppee!!!  Can you tell I'm happy?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I don't have much time today to write much because I have a retirement party to go to tonight, so here is a Meme in care of Dawn!  Thanks Dawn!  I wanted to write something since it's been so long, and it's nothing like a Meme sometimes...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel free to do one yourself, why don't you?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could do your wedding all over again, what would be the one thing you would change? Damn, this is kind of hard.  I've been married twice.  I can't really say I wouldn't have married the first husband--I mean, that would be easy to say, but I have two great kids from that marriage--no matter how ugly it was.  It was hard, and I went through a lot, but I learned a lot.  Well, if I could do that wedding over again I would have had it overseas in the Azores.  As for my second marriage, I think I would have liked more family around, but at the time, it was pretty much perfect.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could re-do one room in your house, which would it be and why? I would add another room upstairs, and make a master bedroom suite with a bigger bathroom.  The bathroom the kids share is too small, so I would tear down the wall and make our bathroom an extension to theirs.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could go back to high school, what is one thing you would change? I would be more out going---not be as shy and get more involved. High school wasn't that much fun for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you had a son born tomorrow, what would his name be? ANOTHER SON?!  Okay, his name would be Joseph Franklin---after my dad and my husband's step-father. We would call him "Joe".   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A daughter? Audrey Kate  Just because...  :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(It ain't going to happen.  BABY FACTORY IS OFFICIALLY CLOSED!!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you had an infinite amount of money and health, how many children would you have? Um...we have enough, thank you!!  4 is good.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you won the lottery tomorrow what is the first thing you would buy?  A pool.  It's on the agenda.  If not a pool, a bigger house, with a Granny quarters on it for my mother who hates living alone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could have chosen your family how many siblings would you have and be specific about their sex and ages?  The same that I have now..two brothers and an older sister.  ONLY I wish I had known my second brother.  I enjoy being the youngest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is on your desktop wallpaper? The island picture that comes with the computer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite zoo animal? Tigers....they are beautiful!  Then, I guess it would be the bears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was your favorite activity in gym class? UGG..  Jazzercise.  Whenever I hear Stevie Wonder's "You Are The Sunshine Of My Life" I remember doing the "doggie" (lifting up your leg while on your knees like you have to pee) position and it makes me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is on the shirt you are wearing right now? I'm wearing a boring white v-neck t-shirt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the picture nearest to you a picture of? I have multiple pictures on the wall in front of me.  One of me and my two kids that I took after my divorce, one of my two kids alone when they were younger, one of Nicholas posing near a turtle, and one of my step-son in a tie, looking unusually sweet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite salad dressing? Evil Ranch dressing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you do on a Sunday night? Watch T.V. and dreading Monday morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could use only one condiment on your food for the rest of your life what would it be? Ketchup, I guess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are the color of your sheets? Beige or green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What pair of shoes do you wear most often? Sandals in the summer, or black pumps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite Thanksgiving food? Sweet potatoes!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-8423797103939568594?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8423797103939568594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=8423797103939568594' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/8423797103939568594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/8423797103939568594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/08/micky-moused-out.html' title='Micky Moused Out'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SoXI0js68jI/AAAAAAAADXE/p7sjnXg9AWU/s72-c/my+honey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-5499440758108782465</id><published>2009-08-06T17:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T18:20:03.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trouble With Bras..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sntwd43cC7I/AAAAAAAADWk/xYEwbhuy9Y0/s1600-h/bras.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 245px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sntwd43cC7I/AAAAAAAADWk/xYEwbhuy9Y0/s400/bras.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367007039725505458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we all know about our troubled economy.  People are losing their jobs, and stores are closing everywhere.  I am happy to report however, I have not seen a real decrease in people submitting Avon orders for braziers!   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A large store (I used to work there part-time) closed down in the  town where I’m from, and now the women of the county have one less store to shop for their undergarments!  This may explain why my Avon sales for bras have gone through the roof!  (Avon doesn’t make the bras—they carry brand names like for example, Platex..etc.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only have one problem.  I have a customer who cannot find a bra that actually “fits”.  She has bought 4 braziers from me, and I’ve had to return every single one of them because “they just don’t fit”.  Well, due to Avon's 100% full guarantee policy for returns, I have to send them back-at my expense.  I don’t get too many returns, but this woman just placed another order for a bra in the same size today, and I can almost guarantee you that it will be returned, because it will not “fit”. Well, I don't have the heart to tell her that I'm sick of returning bras she orders that don't fit, and that I'm actually losing money each time she orders a bra that she returns.  I just can't!  I feel sorry for her.  She can't find a bra that fits.  What a nightmare!  Hopefully the brazier I've ordered for her today will be the GOLDEN EGG of bras, and it will actually fit, and she’ll in turn order dozens more from me because of it...  I’m trying to be positive.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It must be sad to not find a bra that will fit you.  I could NEVER go bra less, could you?  Some women have no problem just letting their “girls” just hang there, swinging to and fro, bouncing up and down…etc.  Then you have women that wear their bra to extremes, even actually sleep with one on. I could not do that, but I couldn’t leave the house without one either.  I guess I’m just not the Earthy Type woman.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday afternoon I saw many Earthy Type women walking around downtown.  I think I've mentioned to you before that I come from a very laid back, earthy, hippie kind of surf town.  I didn't realize how different it was until I actually moved to another town.  Well, lets just say this town is full of very EARTHY women. It was a beautiful day outside, and there was an open Farmer’s Market downtown, and a group of hippie looking guys, and earthy women were playing their drums, and dancing about with tamborines, while preppie types were holding their lattes intermingling with the more conservative types shopping for tomatoes and brussel sprouts.  They looked like they were having a fun time, but I wasn't.  I was not at the market, no rather I was driving up and down the main street, dodging the happy Earthy People of downtown Santa Cruz, looking for my teenage son who could not be reached by his cell phone.  I did eventually find him &lt;strong&gt;45 minutes later&lt;/strong&gt;, after he had realized his "ringer was off".  However, I didn't leave town without causing a disturbance.  I did the unthinkable and honked the horn at my son who suddenly went blind, (I was pissed) startling a few Earthy women who were engaged in convesation at the organic super market.  I'm sure they were talking about vegetables or hemp, or something Earthy, and I'm sure they are still talking about my loud, gas guzzling van, and my rude horn honking, and how women like me will ruin the Mother Earth one day, but what the hell.  At least I'm wearing a bra that fits!  Sometimes that is all that matters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-5499440758108782465?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/5499440758108782465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=5499440758108782465' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/5499440758108782465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/5499440758108782465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/08/trouble-with-bras.html' title='Trouble With Bras..'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sntwd43cC7I/AAAAAAAADWk/xYEwbhuy9Y0/s72-c/bras.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-3936585305862787052</id><published>2009-08-03T18:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T19:04:28.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheap Hair</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SneVX-UDHLI/AAAAAAAADWU/xu2gDSncbDg/s1600-h/beauty.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 322px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SneVX-UDHLI/AAAAAAAADWU/xu2gDSncbDg/s400/beauty.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365921720131853490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been kind of “down” a few days due to my boys both catching colds, and then passing them down to yours truly.  You’d think I’d be immune by now from all the exposure, but I got a small dose of it, so it didn’t hit me too hard.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s August already…  Yesterday, 7 years ago my dad passed away.  Weird.  It doesn't seem that long ago.  It seems like yesterday.  I look at Nicholas and that is when I realize how the years are just flying by.  Nicholas will be six years old in November already.  My daughter, Lizzy is going to turn 21 next month.  Damn.  Dad was right.  When you get older the years zoom by.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have one more little trip to do before the kids start school this month---the long awaited trip to Disneyland!  Yay!  This time my husband is going! Yay!  He isn’t that thrilled, but who knows when the next time will come when we can go on a road trip with &lt;strong&gt;all&lt;/strong&gt; the kids.  We’ll be stopping in Venice for a short time to visit his step sister, Janet, and the kids are as much looking forward to that as much as Disneyland.  We had a lot of fun there last year, and the weather was beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hair has gotten really long, so I went to get a hair cut yesterday.  I will be the first to tell you that I really don’t spend that much money on my hair, unless I get a perm-which I haven’t in many, many years.  If I color my hair, I do it from the box.  I go to Super Cuts to get my hair cut.  I don’t need anyone to tell me my hair is dry on the ends when it gets long.  Duh..  That is what happens when my hair gets long, so when the guy who is cutting my hair starts telling me in his broken English that my hair is dry because I don’t use a certain shampoo, I know it’s just a ploy to get me to buy shampoo that is going to be more expensive than my actual haircut.  I just humor the guy to not come across rude, but I never say I’m going to buy anything.  I know my hair is healthy.  I have a lot of thick, wavy, hair.  Normally, I get compliments on my hair.  He then starts spraying something in my hair, and goes on to say, “Doesn’t that smell good?”  Sure it smells good.  It’s not going to smell bad.  I nod my head to say, yes it smells good.  I’m not going to contradict anything this guy says, especially when he is holding a scissors to my head.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the cut, he starts raving about my “now beautiful hair” and what a difference that “spray” had done!  My hair is nice now because my dry ends are cut-it isn’t the spray.  As he proceeds to take off my apron, he shows me the sale of shampoo on display.  Two bottles for $35!  What a deal, right.  I politely tell him, “No thanks, not this time, but thank you.”  What does the guy do?  He just goes and on in front of the people in the waiting room.  “But this is sale price!  This is a good deal!”  He goes on to plead his case.  I tell him, “Sorry, no thanks.”  Well, he turns away with a sad look on his face like a wounded dog.  Oh brother.  If I wanted to spend $35 on shampoo, I wouldn’t be going to the neighborhood Super Cuts.  I’m cheap, okay?  Deal with it.  I gave him a nice tip, but I didn’t even get an “I thank you.”  The girl who took my transaction mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.”  Whatever, but I do like my haircut.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SneWEcwbD0I/AAAAAAAADWc/aD22-b1D63A/s1600-h/grad09+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SneWEcwbD0I/AAAAAAAADWc/aD22-b1D63A/s400/grad09+023.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365922484218171202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nick playing between his daddy's legs at his brother Matt's graduation.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-3936585305862787052?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/3936585305862787052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=3936585305862787052' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/3936585305862787052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/3936585305862787052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/08/cheap-hair.html' title='Cheap Hair'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SneVX-UDHLI/AAAAAAAADWU/xu2gDSncbDg/s72-c/beauty.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-4294264798217771121</id><published>2009-07-27T15:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T15:31:34.449-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me &amp; The Boys</title><content type='html'>Well, Friday was not fun and sun as originally planned in my last entry… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, Friday was spent snuggling on the bed all day watching Sponge Bob with my little guy.  Nicholas apparently caught a cold from his older brother Andrew.  Andrew has been fighting a cold too, and his friends he has hanging out with all summer (whom I refer to as The Lost Boys) are all coming down with the same symptoms.  They had a small fever, but now that it gone.  They still have that cough and stuffiness however.  They are getting better…just not 100% yet.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew has been spending most of his summer at his grandma’s house.  Well, may be I should refer to my mom’s house as, “Anna’s Hotel”.  You see, Andrew doesn’t really spend all of his summer at his grandmother’s house—but rather with his friends from his old school.  They like to hang out downtown, and go to the beach, and work on their music.  That is totally fine with me, I mean he should enjoy his summer, but he just gets home to my mom’s house a little too late for my liking, with a friend or two in tow with him.  My mom enjoys her grandson’s company, but lately, I think she if feeling more like an owner of a bed and breakfast.  Andrew’s friends just adore my mom.  For some of them, I think it’s the only time they actually get a hot breakfast in the morning.  I’m sorry, but some of my son’s friends come across as orphans to me-they are all pretty much good kids, but “lost”.  Call me over-bearing, but some of the parents of these kids come across really flakey to me.  I have met a few of them, and they just seem to laugh off my concerns, with “typical teenager” comments.  Perhaps I’m over-reacting, or may be its because I work where I do and know of things that go on, or may be I was raised in a very protective environment (my parents never let us out at night—nights were spent watching The Love Boat and Fantasy Island with cookies and milk-unless we were in the Azores when we could stay up till 2 a.m. because it was “safe” there.) but I don’t like my son walking downtown after dark, and I insist on him being at home by a certain hour.  I’ve been voicing my concerns to Andrew, and I have told him that his friends remind me of the Lost Boys from Peter Pan.  Of course Andrew thinks it’s hilarious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sm4orXBrhtI/AAAAAAAADV8/pVov4HEI6dY/s1600-h/lost+boys.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 261px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sm4orXBrhtI/AAAAAAAADV8/pVov4HEI6dY/s400/lost+boys.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363268931625387730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew has been home for the last two days, and it has been so nice to have my “Lost Boy” at home, having him sit next to me on the couch, without me worrying where he is with the rest of his crew.  No calls from my mom asking where he is because it’s almost 9 pm, and not getting calls from lost boy explaining:  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But mom, it’s not really dark yet outside!”  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sm4pVnvJq7I/AAAAAAAADWE/gXrPb8P6vpw/s1600-h/laceandcrew.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sm4pVnvJq7I/AAAAAAAADWE/gXrPb8P6vpw/s400/laceandcrew.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363269657665579954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True, you got to love these summer evenings when it’s not really dark until 9:30, but still.  School starts on August 17th for him.  I would be lying if I told you that I wasn’t looking forward to it.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of things to look forward to this summer however!  In a few weeks we’ll be going to pay a visit to my husband’s cool step-sister, Janet-aka: Aunt Janet in Venice, California, and they off to Disneyland for a few days.  Then, school starts, and Matt starts college.  It will be strange not having a 6’3 “man boy” around the house.  I wonder how long it will take for him to miss us.  (He doesn’t think he will, but I beg to differ).   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking further ahead, Lizzy is going to be turning 21 the first week of September.  Instead of going to bars, she wants to stay home and have a barbecue and watch movies in the backyard. Sounds good to me!  I wouldn’t be surprised if she asked for a jump house again to tell you the truth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sm4pvr0X8hI/AAAAAAAADWM/oo7kHa1Nf8s/s1600-h/tickets+068.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sm4pvr0X8hI/AAAAAAAADWM/oo7kHa1Nf8s/s400/tickets+068.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363270105437827602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-4294264798217771121?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4294264798217771121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=4294264798217771121' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/4294264798217771121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/4294264798217771121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/07/well-friday-was-not-fun-and-sun-as.html' title='Me &amp; The Boys'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sm4orXBrhtI/AAAAAAAADV8/pVov4HEI6dY/s72-c/lost+boys.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-1148471240091704048</id><published>2009-07-23T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T19:59:46.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Work Furlough Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SmkjIMSAgVI/AAAAAAAADV0/Z6P2-cvtiJo/s1600-h/work.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 360px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SmkjIMSAgVI/AAAAAAAADV0/Z6P2-cvtiJo/s400/work.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361855455003967826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is Friday, and because I am a county employee, I don’t go to work tomorrow.  Tomorrow is a “work furlough day” which means, we have an unpaid work “holiday” in order to save money = jobs.  I’m already volunteered to work a 30 hour week, but I still have to take all furlough days like everyone else.  Counties got off lucky---they only have one day a month—state agencies have to take two days off each month—that’s 10% of their salary.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I’m sitting here thinking of ways I can spend this furlough day.  Here are some ideas that I have entertained: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could sleep in and stay in pajamas all day.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay that is not realistic at all.  It would be a complete waste of a day…my kids would prevent this from happening somehow.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go to the grocery store.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good idea.  I need to stock up on juice.  I buy a gallon of juice—it’s gone by the end of the day.  I’m not kidding.  Juice does not last long in my house…nor does toilet paper, and paper towels.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go Avon pushing.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I could grab my chili pepper bag and go door to door pushing Avon to the neighbors in the neighborhood.  Who am I kidding?  I’d rather just throw a brochure on their welcome mat instead-I’m not a in your face Avon lady---not a top seller by any means, but I could put on my Curves pants and burn off some poundage.  By the way, there are a lot of big summer deals at Avon.  If you want free shipping---inquire within.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could clean the house.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could clean the house any day…why do it on my day off?  Nah..scratch this one off! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go to the beach.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like this one.  I haven’t been to the beach for what seems forever, and when I finally do it’s already the end of summer, and I want to kick myself for not doing it sooner or more often.  I bought some new sand toys for Nicholas, and the weather has been great.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beach it is.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  I took my son to his swimming lesson this afternoon.  The Drama Mama lady was not there.  This is a good thing..  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-1148471240091704048?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/1148471240091704048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=1148471240091704048' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/1148471240091704048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/1148471240091704048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/07/work-furlough-day.html' title='Work Furlough Day'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SmkjIMSAgVI/AAAAAAAADV0/Z6P2-cvtiJo/s72-c/work.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-395048587461557094</id><published>2009-07-22T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T13:29:10.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drama At The Pool</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Smd1u9S6ykI/AAAAAAAADVo/7a0Ekx4Q5tg/s1600-h/Kiddie%2520Pool.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 271px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Smd1u9S6ykI/AAAAAAAADVo/7a0Ekx4Q5tg/s400/Kiddie%2520Pool.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361383330996210242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s Wednesday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far it’s been kind of a busy summer!  Nicholas is now out of summer school, so now I actually can enjoy a whole hour lunch without rushing around back and forth.  Now I can take a breather until school starts again next month.  It’s kind of sad that school starts so soon already.  Andrew starts back up on August 17th, and Nick starts again on the 26th.  Why can’t school start AFTER Labor Day like when I was a kid?  Of course, when I was a kid, we didn’t have mini days every week, or teacher work days where the kids don’t have school like they have now.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicholas still has his swimming lessons twice a week and is really enjoying it.  It’s fun to watch him floating around, getting all excited about blowing bubbles, but lately there has been quite a bit of drama at the pool.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In front of the pool there is a “splash pad” where the kids can go and run through the sprinklers and stuff after their lessons are before their lessons.  It’s now closed.  Okay, I’m a little more pleased than my son is about it mainly because it was always such a pain in the butt to get him out of there to go home.  But, there is one person in particular that I know of that complained about it—and I think she made a point of complaining on her cell phone in front of ME.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason why I think she was directing her complaint towards me was because a few days previous, Nicholas was not listening to me, and made a big fuss to not leave when I asked him to leave.  It was the day when I actually had to go to the splash pad and run after him to get his little butt in the car to go home.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyway, I’m sitting there on the bench watching Nicholas playing in the splash pad after his lesson with other kids, and here is this mother with her designer sunglasses sitting right next to me.  I was a little surprised that she sat so close.  If you saw us you would think she was a relative or a close friend who stopped to chat with me.  She sat a little too close for comfort---if you know what I mean.  Well anyway, she gets on her cell phone and talks away to her what I’m guessing was her significant other complaining and whining.  Her major complaint was:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh and there are kids playing in the splash pad right now.  They have been in there for over 10 minutes!  When Sara finishes her lesson she is only allowed to be in there for like, 30 seconds!  It’s just not fair!”  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blah…Blah…Blah…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, and I don’t know if I’m going to continue with lessons here because they won’t even let the parents sit near to watch, and we have to sit by this splash pad, and it’s too noisy, and the kids are so disruptive!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she gets off the phone, and calls the swimming school directly and leaves a message to have them call her back because she has a complaint.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course everyone can hear her talk away complaining and whining, and suddenly we mothers who have been watching our “disruptive children” get up as if in unison with out towels telling the kids to get out.  Luckily, Nicholas got out without argument.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the next lesson, the splash pad was turned off.  Nicholas asked again why the splash pad was turned off, and he got the same explanation about some of the parents complaining about it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, the splash pool was still turned off, and I noticed the whining complaining woman who had complained on her cell phone about it being “so disruptive and so unfair” had just walked in.  I thought she would be pleased to see it turned off, but apparently, that wasn’t the case.  She actually let her daughter go in and turn in on.  I guess she felt her daughter wouldn’t be disruptive.  Then hell broke loose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the teachers called out to her daughter that she couldn’t play there, and it was closed.  Of course the girl’s mother took offense and told the teacher to:  “Do not yell at my daughter!”  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh brother!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher did not yell---she merely said it loud enough so the little girl could hear her from the pool, and she certainly wasn’t rude at all.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I and Nicholas quickly left the scene—it was getting tense.  I had to laugh.  I’m sorry. This lady was full of bull crap.  First she complains about it being on, and then she wants it on for HER DAUGHTER.  Right!!  I hope she saw me laugh too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-395048587461557094?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/395048587461557094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=395048587461557094' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/395048587461557094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/395048587461557094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/07/drama-at-pool.html' title='Drama At The Pool'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Smd1u9S6ykI/AAAAAAAADVo/7a0Ekx4Q5tg/s72-c/Kiddie%2520Pool.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-8576845448435619125</id><published>2009-07-15T22:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T23:04:35.271-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My name is Julie, and my carpets are just fine!</title><content type='html'>This afternoon, I get a call at home from an automated solicitation call:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Isn't it time you cleaned your carpets?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No hello, or how are you--just an automated operator telling me that my carpets are dirty. I immediately told the automated operator to "F you!" as I hung up the phone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm having one of those weeks. I usually don't say the F word, nor do I usually talk back to automated operators.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it's been one of those weeks: Nicholas is testing his boundaries again! He is in that mode: "How long will it take for mommy to chase me around the playground, if I run in circles and hide behind a tree." He apparently was playing the same game with his grandmother this afternoon. My mother was not pleased--especially when he threw her shopping list she had written over the fence in the neighbor's backyard! "Now my neighbors are going to know what I need at the store!" Sure they could care less, I'm sure---even if they could read my mother's writing--(another story). So, I left a hour early from work and raced over to my mother's house, where I immediately met Nicholas in the front yard, wearing a devilish grin. After chasing him around the house, into the house, upstairs, and onto the deck, and dragged him into the van--finally strapping him in. I was ready to go home and try to relax. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicholas finally fell asleep in the van, and joyfully he continued to take a nice long nap at home...when the phone rings, and this automated operator tells me that my carpet is not clean. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HATE solicitation calls---especially from automated operators!! I get these calls at work for refinance, insurance for my credit cards..etc..etc... I even get calls from President Obama telling me to go back to school! I PRESS THE 2 button like they tell me to STOP getting these calls - to be taken off the phone list, but does it work?! No--it doesn't!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, and now lets talk about the solicitation calls with REAL people. What a joy they are. I cannot tell you how many times people call me and ask for "Maureen". That is not my name. That is my husband's ex-wifes name. I tell them, and try and correct them, but it never works--they don't care. I was once sent a whole kit to distribute in the neighborhood for a charitible cause, but they still sent it to Maureen. I sent it back. They called, and asked me why--I told them they had the wrong person. My name is Julie. I not only get calls for her, I also get mail for her. Why in the hell do I get her mail? She has never lived at this address! Not only do I get calls and mail, I also get free samples. Today I got free samples of Kotex Maxi Pads with wings, and panty liners! Okay..I'll keep those, but what I want to know is WHY I get mail for her MOTHER-IN-LAW?! Not my husband's mother, but her new spouse's mother! WHY??!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay.. Perhaps the real reason I'm feeling angry is because I REALLY think my carpets need a good cleaning. Now I got a call confirming what I already know. Lovely. You know how hard it is to keep a carpet clean with teenagers and a 5 year old and a husband, and an art student?! Time to get my steamer out this weekend... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sl7BWnisUSI/AAAAAAAADVg/baePsNt3FYk/s1600-h/Ho_YAY_Julie_Lily-vi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sl7BWnisUSI/AAAAAAAADVg/baePsNt3FYk/s400/Ho_YAY_Julie_Lily-vi.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358933200933245218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-8576845448435619125?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/8576845448435619125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=8576845448435619125' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/8576845448435619125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/8576845448435619125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-name-is-julie-and-my-carpets-just.html' title='My name is Julie, and my carpets are just fine!'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sl7BWnisUSI/AAAAAAAADVg/baePsNt3FYk/s72-c/Ho_YAY_Julie_Lily-vi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-186602491781878891</id><published>2009-07-12T09:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T15:38:13.344-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello, Sunday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SloQGHXO8TI/AAAAAAAADU4/NEAieeO2bKo/s1600-h/Foto(17).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SloQGHXO8TI/AAAAAAAADU4/NEAieeO2bKo/s400/Foto(17).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357612403952382258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Otilia - my sister-in-law and friend.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above picture was sent to me my ex-husband's niece.  It was one of the last pictures she took before she passed away.  Now that she is gone, I am getting emails from my nieces in the Azores more often.  Technically, they are my ex-nieces, but I prefer to just call them nieces.  They don't refer me to Ex-Aunt Julie---always, Tia Julie.  Sounds kind of weird.  Tia Julia--that sounds better, huh?  Oh well, I'm grateful I'm still referred to as an aunt of theirs, and I'm thrilled that my daughter is in contact with her cousins.  One of them is getting married next summer, so with this wedding, and my cousin Tania's wedding, we may be able to see both!  Only one catch---my ex-husband will probably be there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How awkward is that?  Where do I sit at church?  In the back, or in the front?  You see, I don't talk to my ex-husband.  He lives in New Jersey, so there really isn't a need to.  I never run into him at the store, or see him driving down the street.  The only time I do talk to him, is when I need to relay an important message, and when I do, I hope voicemal picks it up instead of him.  We won't even talk about his wife--no I don't talk to her either.  Do I sit in the church pew with them?!  Do I bring my husband with me?  Oh gosh..I don't know why I'm thinking about this NOW--it is a year away for God's sake.  Perhaps, I'll just show up for the wedding, give the happy couple my wishes, and not go to the reception.  Then I can worry all night whether or not their dad drank too much, and wait until the wee hours of the morning for the safe return of my two children.  In the Azores cafes don't close until 3 am, so maybe I just hang out there all night with a cousin of mine.  Sigh..  It was awkward enough sitting through my step-son's graduation with my husband's ex sitting on the other side of him.  I was pretty much viewed as invisible.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think it's easier to be "invisible". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's Sunday morning, and I'm reflecting over the last week..  It was a good week.  It started at the Portuguese parade, church service, and the Portuguese Hall.  My cousin Tom and his wife and two kids were there--always nice to see them.  You know, I had my camera with me, but I did not take any pictures for some reason.  Tuesday was my mother's birthday, so I took the afternoon off and took her out to lunch with the boys-Andrew, his friend Cyrus and Nicholas.  Then later I took her to Nicholas' swimming lesson so she could see him swim.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SloiMhC182I/AAAAAAAADVQ/A43RM3DL8D8/s1600-h/july09+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SloiMhC182I/AAAAAAAADVQ/A43RM3DL8D8/s400/july09+002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357632305134695266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SloiMMYG5fI/AAAAAAAADVI/EtTPuZXeNBg/s1600-h/july09+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SloiMMYG5fI/AAAAAAAADVI/EtTPuZXeNBg/s400/july09+001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357632299586741746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SloiLlXVlPI/AAAAAAAADVA/CAn2rShO86g/s1600-h/july09+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SloiLlXVlPI/AAAAAAAADVA/CAn2rShO86g/s400/july09+004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357632289114526962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night, Andrew had another performance at the hip hop dance downtown, so Rich and I made a date night out of it and had a nice dinner near the wharf.  We are were seated at the corner patio over looking the mouth of the wharf, and watched all the sailboats and motor boats all dock one by one..  It was very pretty.  I wish I had my camera that night.  Seated next to us, in their Gucci sunglasses, gold jewlery and low-cut "booty call" tight blouses, were the "Housewives of Santa Cruz County."  There were six, very blonde, big bosom women sitting there celebrating a divorce--(I've been to one of those gatherings a few times).  It was pretty interesting.  The more they ordered drinks, the louder they got, and we all got to hear about the divorce, and the rotten husbands and various men of their past, and the runs with the police being called to their homes..etc..  Then the most vocal of them all, started talking about the Bible, and how she disapproved of one of their mutual friends of how she allowed her husband to cheat...etc..etc..  It was interesting to say the least.  My husband's back was facing their table, and from where I was sitting I could see various men seated at the restaurant glancing, and staring towards the "Blonde Table" every now and then.  I also saw some looks for some disapproving wives...ha ha..  I asked Rich if he was listening to any parts of the conversation behind him, and he said yes.  He expects that they would eventually drink a little too much and end up calling up their ex-husbands by the end of the night.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We later saw a movie, The Purposal.  It was a cute movie, but it reminded me of that other movie Sandra Bullock did---While You Were Sleeping.  I kept on expecting to see Bill Pullman show up.  It was a funny, cute movie though---a must see if you are a fan of Betty White and the guy from The Office - you got to see it to believe it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SlolrZEzwJI/AAAAAAAADVY/EShD9An6RHI/s1600-h/betty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SlolrZEzwJI/AAAAAAAADVY/EShD9An6RHI/s400/betty.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357636134106284178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got home so late Friday night, Saturday as just spent cleaning and working in the attic.  I was able to take another brisk walk around the neighborhood later yesterday with my new IPOD.  My God...I love my little Apple Shuffle IPOD!  I was prancing around the neighborhood listening to ABBA Gold the whole time, and I was strutting to the music in my Curves trimming pants!  There is nothing more liberating strutting to Gimme Gimme Gimme A Man After Midnight down the neighborhood.  I hope no one saw me dance!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-186602491781878891?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/186602491781878891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=186602491781878891' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/186602491781878891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/186602491781878891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/07/hello-sunday.html' title='Hello, Sunday!'/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/SloQGHXO8TI/AAAAAAAADU4/NEAieeO2bKo/s72-c/Foto(17).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1941440508669188811.post-4838848075999331034</id><published>2009-07-04T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T15:10:57.261-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_JFFb4ngI/AAAAAAAADSg/DWSZmcILxJ4/s1600-h/4thjuly.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 319px; height: 204px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_JFFb4ngI/AAAAAAAADSg/DWSZmcILxJ4/s400/4thjuly.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354719571162471938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 4th of July!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last two days Rich and I have been doing some home improvements, and I am happy to say that the new stairway to our attic has been installed!  It's not completely done, but hopefully by next weekend we will have cleaned out the garage, throw away all the crap we really don't need anymore, and stuff the stuff we want in the attic so we can fit both of our cars in the garage!  Yay!  While he was sweating away in the attic, I was sweating away in the kitchen cleaning my oven.  Sure, it's a self-cleaning oven, but it doesn't clean every place..  Eww..  Then, of course I had to mop the floor in the kitchen.  I'm happy to say my kitchen smells like Pine Sol.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, we are having a low key 4th of July.  I'm going to have a barbecue, and let Nicholas run through the sprinklers.  We'll have watermelon, and Rich has promised to make strawberry daquiries!  Yum..yum..  Lizzy is working today, Andrew at his friend's house out of town to see fireworks, and Matt is hybernating in his room until dinner.  Rich plans to watch Nascar tonight...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, like every 1st Sunday of July--since I can remember, we are going down to Santa Cruz, pick up Andrew and my mom, and go to the Holy Ghost Portuguese festival.  My hometown only holds TWO parades downtown:  The Gay &amp; Lesbian Pride parade, and the Portuguese Holy Ghost Parade.  After the parade, we are going to church, and eat sopas e carne.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pictures from Andrew's birthday that I have not had the time to post yet:  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_M0bId35I/AAAAAAAADSw/rIrYxu6327E/s1600-h/andrewbirth+049.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_M0bId35I/AAAAAAAADSw/rIrYxu6327E/s400/andrewbirth+049.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354723682975342482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_MzyAwRwI/AAAAAAAADSo/SJP8MFJw2Ng/s1600-h/andrewbirth+044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_MzyAwRwI/AAAAAAAADSo/SJP8MFJw2Ng/s400/andrewbirth+044.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354723671937140482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_OaT43WvI/AAAAAAAADTA/ndtOOLos50c/s1600-h/andrewbirth+051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_OaT43WvI/AAAAAAAADTA/ndtOOLos50c/s400/andrewbirth+051.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354725433377512178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_OZ_ZsjNI/AAAAAAAADS4/vl3CZKjIwlw/s1600-h/andrewbirth+052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_OZ_ZsjNI/AAAAAAAADS4/vl3CZKjIwlw/s400/andrewbirth+052.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354725427878071506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_PLiLVduI/AAAAAAAADTI/QkLd1D6V5fA/s1600-h/andrewbirth+053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_PLiLVduI/AAAAAAAADTI/QkLd1D6V5fA/s400/andrewbirth+053.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354726279026669282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_PL4sNqEI/AAAAAAAADTQ/pP9MpUYxdL4/s1600-h/andrewbirth+054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_PL4sNqEI/AAAAAAAADTQ/pP9MpUYxdL4/s400/andrewbirth+054.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354726285070149698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_QHbLUJ0I/AAAAAAAADTg/kHWP6OJM43s/s1600-h/andrewbirth+071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_QHbLUJ0I/AAAAAAAADTg/kHWP6OJM43s/s400/andrewbirth+071.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354727307939686210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_QHDyCmiI/AAAAAAAADTY/asjAzbt7A0o/s1600-h/andrewbirth+069.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_QHDyCmiI/AAAAAAAADTY/asjAzbt7A0o/s400/andrewbirth+069.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354727301659662882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_QuusFMrI/AAAAAAAADTo/zpfXxxc3nT4/s1600-h/andrewbirth+065.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_QuusFMrI/AAAAAAAADTo/zpfXxxc3nT4/s400/andrewbirth+065.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354727983192289970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_Qu8NcXOI/AAAAAAAADTw/_zltlJyXUMc/s1600-h/andrewbirth+066.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_Qu8NcXOI/AAAAAAAADTw/_zltlJyXUMc/s400/andrewbirth+066.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354727986821881058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_Rc0EInEI/AAAAAAAADUA/P6TtoO0UMoI/s1600-h/andrewbirth+068.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_Rc0EInEI/AAAAAAAADUA/P6TtoO0UMoI/s400/andrewbirth+068.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354728774909336642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_RcWPM5ZI/AAAAAAAADT4/9KYeR39Grvc/s1600-h/andrewbirth+067.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_RcWPM5ZI/AAAAAAAADT4/9KYeR39Grvc/s400/andrewbirth+067.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354728766902691218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_SXRG-dgI/AAAAAAAADUQ/Z0jB_6EZUU4/s1600-h/andrewbirth+074.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_SXRG-dgI/AAAAAAAADUQ/Z0jB_6EZUU4/s400/andrewbirth+074.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354729779138295298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_SXPOvBII/AAAAAAAADUI/NeytqPpW_pw/s1600-h/andrewbirth+055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_SXPOvBII/AAAAAAAADUI/NeytqPpW_pw/s400/andrewbirth+055.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354729778633966722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_TFY8tZ8I/AAAAAAAADUg/9W8zunAP-xo/s1600-h/andrewbirth+073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_TFY8tZ8I/AAAAAAAADUg/9W8zunAP-xo/s400/andrewbirth+073.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354730571516700610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_TFGtAZXI/AAAAAAAADUY/tHpCLLZlcS0/s1600-h/andrewbirth+072.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_TFGtAZXI/AAAAAAAADUY/tHpCLLZlcS0/s400/andrewbirth+072.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354730566618998130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great 4th of July!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_TR2s27oI/AAAAAAAADUo/gCuzAlqq3yk/s1600-h/betty.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 106px; height: 135px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_TR2s27oI/AAAAAAAADUo/gCuzAlqq3yk/s400/betty.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354730785661709954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1941440508669188811-4838848075999331034?l=coelhathoughts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/feeds/4838848075999331034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1941440508669188811&amp;postID=4838848075999331034' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/4838848075999331034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1941440508669188811/posts/default/4838848075999331034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coelhathoughts.blogspot.com/2009/07/happy-4th-of-july-last-two-days-rich.html' title=''/><author><name>Coelha :B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15029098296256641854</uri><email>coelha@aol.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13027387734213620537'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RqJDfLuGjo0/Sk_JFFb4ngI/AAAAAAAADSg/DWSZmcILxJ4/s72-c/4thjuly.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry></feed>