<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923</id><updated>2012-01-22T16:24:46.500-05:00</updated><category term='Changes'/><category term='Trips'/><category term='Quotes'/><category term='trust'/><category term='Relationships'/><category term='Paris Hilton'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Friendship'/><category term='Running into An Ex'/><category term='Shopoholic'/><category term='holiday'/><category term='Memories'/><category term='music'/><category term='drinking'/><category term='Blunders'/><category term='Sports (Football)'/><category term='Dogs Ella'/><category term='Wanting More'/><category term='Car Problems'/><category term='Going Out'/><category term='Projects'/><category term='Things to Ponder'/><category term='sports'/><category term='Tanning'/><category term='Communication'/><category term='Boys'/><category term='Reflections of Anne'/><title type='text'>Misadventures of Anne</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>152</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-955714243689700792</id><published>2009-06-21T11:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T11:39:52.043-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Alive</title><content type='html'>I am so sorry for the long departure but I have not been able to write at work and I can not figure out what is wrong with my Internet at home.  I know that is not an excuse but I have really missed everyone and writting.  There is so much to say and I don't know where to begin.  Let's see I have been traveling lately.  I went to Las Vegas to see my favorite band Dave Matthews and I also went to San Diego to see my best friend from Charleston that moved there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am single again.  I am just taking some time to grow and learn who I am again.  Figuring out what is important to me and that is family and friends.  I feel like I have let other relationships go because I was so focused on my relationship with my boyfriend.  It is time to just be me and to focus on myself. I am a people pleaser and now I just want to please myself. It feels good to sometimes say no.  It also feels good to write again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was unfortunate because people I knew used my blog against me at work and also my old boyfriend read it and made me feel bad about expressing myself.  So I am now back, more alive than ever, and wishing everyone well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-955714243689700792?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/955714243689700792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=955714243689700792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/955714243689700792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/955714243689700792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-alive.html' title='I&apos;m Alive'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-6584984800280619659</id><published>2009-02-10T14:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T14:22:32.988-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Open Your Heart</title><content type='html'>I love Dave Matthews.  I love his songs but his words can be poetic.  I have been a little bummed out lately because someone's negativity and words about others have been too much for me to handle.  I look for the good in people but I am having trouble because everything they say is bad.  Why are people so negative and hateful.  So I started to think that I wish I did not care.  I wish that I do not feel so deeply about other people.  Why should I care about how someone else treats another person?  I don't know why I am being so cheezy this week, but I listened to this song and it is what I want to try and do.  Open my heart and instead of looking at all the violence and hatred in the world, I am going to "just look for the love."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the lyrics to one of his songs that brought back and made me realize that I have a gift and should be proud that I can feel so much for others.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isnt it strange&lt;br /&gt;How we move our lives for another day&lt;br /&gt;Like skipping a beat&lt;br /&gt;What if a great wave should&lt;br /&gt;Wash us all away&lt;br /&gt;Just thinking out loud&lt;br /&gt;Dont mean to dwell on this dying thing&lt;br /&gt;But looking at blood&lt;br /&gt;Its alive right now&lt;br /&gt;Deep and sweet within&lt;br /&gt;Pouring through our veins&lt;br /&gt;Intoxicate moving wine to tears&lt;br /&gt;Drinking it deep&lt;br /&gt;Then an evening spent dancing&lt;br /&gt;Its you and me&lt;br /&gt;This love will open our world&lt;br /&gt;From the dark side you can see a glow&lt;br /&gt;Of something bright&lt;br /&gt;Theres much more than we see here&lt;br /&gt;Dont burn the day away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this not enough&lt;br /&gt;The blessed sip of life&lt;br /&gt;Is it not enough&lt;br /&gt;Staring down at the ground&lt;br /&gt;Oh then complain and pray&lt;br /&gt;More from above&lt;br /&gt;Greedy little pig&lt;br /&gt;Stop just watch your world trickle away&lt;br /&gt;Oh its your problem now&lt;br /&gt;Itll all be dead and gone in&lt;br /&gt;A few short years&lt;br /&gt;Just love will open our eyes&lt;br /&gt;Just love will put the hope back in our minds&lt;br /&gt;Much more than we could ever know&lt;br /&gt;Dont burn the day away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come sister&lt;br /&gt;My brother&lt;br /&gt;Shake up your bones shake up your feet&lt;br /&gt;Im saying open up&lt;br /&gt;And let the rain come pouring in&lt;br /&gt;Wash out this tired notion&lt;br /&gt;That the best is yet to come&lt;br /&gt;But while youre dancing on the ground&lt;br /&gt;Dont think of when youre gone&lt;br /&gt;Love! love! - what more is there? &lt;br /&gt;We need the light of love in here&lt;br /&gt;Dont beat your head&lt;br /&gt;Dry your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Let the love in there&lt;br /&gt;There are bad times&lt;br /&gt;But thats ok&lt;br /&gt;Just look for love in it&lt;br /&gt;Dont burn the day away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look&lt;br /&gt;Here are we&lt;br /&gt;On this starry night staring into space&lt;br /&gt;And I must say&lt;br /&gt;I feel as small as dust&lt;br /&gt;Lying down here&lt;br /&gt;What point could there be troubling&lt;br /&gt;Head down wondering what will&lt;br /&gt;Become of me&lt;br /&gt;Why concern we cannot see&lt;br /&gt;But no reason to abandon it&lt;br /&gt;Time is short but thats all right&lt;br /&gt;Maybe Ill go out in the middle of the night&lt;br /&gt;Take your hands from your eyes, my love&lt;br /&gt;Everything must come to an end sometime&lt;br /&gt;Dont burn the day away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come sister&lt;br /&gt;My brother&lt;br /&gt;Shake up your bones shake up your feet&lt;br /&gt;Im saying open up&lt;br /&gt;And let the rain come flooding in&lt;br /&gt;Wash out this tired notion&lt;br /&gt;That the best is yet to come&lt;br /&gt;But while youre dancing on the ground&lt;br /&gt;Dont think of when youre gone&lt;br /&gt;Love! love! - what more is there? &lt;br /&gt;We need the light of love in here&lt;br /&gt;Dont beat your head&lt;br /&gt;Dry your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Let the love in there&lt;br /&gt;There are bad times&lt;br /&gt;But thats ok&lt;br /&gt;Just look for love in it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-6584984800280619659?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6584984800280619659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=6584984800280619659' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6584984800280619659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6584984800280619659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/02/open-your-heart.html' title='Open Your Heart'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-2466974643839993399</id><published>2009-02-10T10:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T14:08:42.673-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Unconditional Love</title><content type='html'>To celebrate Valentine's Day, the one day you loathe when you are single, I am going to talk about love this week. I know that is cheezy but bear with me because I am not going to just talk about love between a couple but love in general. I saw something truly remarkable yesterday. I saw love in the truest simplest form. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a salt water fishtank with two clownfish. One of my clownfish was sick and was laying or clinging to a rock at the bottom. The other clownfish was trying to get the fish to swim and helping him stay alive. It was sad because there was one fish dying and it's mate would not leave it's side. He would try to get underneath him to lift him up. It was amazing to think that fish have relationships too. Why would it struggle to keep his friend or mate alive? Why does a fish care about another or do they care. I know these are deep questions and I don't understand why I care so much about this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am extremely empathetic meaning I can feel what others feel. I mean I felt my heart sink just thinking of the other fish losing his friend. Not many people feel such a sadness for A FISH!!! I think being empathetic is a good quality in a person but it can suck. I am sensitive to other people's emotions which can be hard for me. When someone is sad, I get sad. When someone is angry I feel for that anger but when someone is happy then I feel a sense of energy or excitement. I know people that seem to be cold hearted. They can be prejudice or say things about others without even knowing the person. This is really hard for me to understand because I feel for other people. So much so someone has told me I would see a child in a serial killer. That is a little extreme but my point is, why can't they try to walk in others shoes. That is what I do everyday so anything that I do to cause pain for others ends up hurting me also. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this week try and spread the love. Stop and think of what it must feel like to be another person. Walk in someone elses shoes. &lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-2466974643839993399?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2466974643839993399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=2466974643839993399' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2466974643839993399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2466974643839993399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/02/unconditional-love.html' title='Unconditional Love'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-6198701578437512026</id><published>2009-01-31T17:33:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T08:56:12.092-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Real Life Part 2</title><content type='html'>Please read part one before this one or you maybe confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I do respect about where I work is how they managed to save some jobs.  They cut things like a trip that the heads go to every year, cut down on travel expenses and other things that are a priviledge.  I think the trip was especially a big deal because it is something they do every year.  It is a bonus for the employee of the year and somewhere where the big wigs get to come together.  You hear on the news about other company's during this time have done otherwise.  The former head of Merrill Lynch spent over a million on his office. He gave all his people big incintives while he could because Bank of America annouced that they are not doing that because of the way it would look.  How could it be moral to accept bail out money then give a big bonus to people. AIG spent all that money to take client's on an expensive trip after accepting bail out money.  You hear it all the time in the news but we did not do this.  We may not get a big raise but that is across the board and they are doing that in order to save our co-workers. Our division is doing anything they can to make sure people will keep their jobs and I am sure other areas of the bank are doing the same.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it has been a bad week.  After I was told this news, I was called in the office.  It seems like I have been consumed with other things and not doing the job I was capable of.  I used to be consumed with my work and would do above and beyond my job requirements such as working on the weekends and staying late at night, but I made my work the priority in my life.  So much that it would physically drain me and not only my health suffered but it also effected my social life.  I got burned out and I also got a serious boyfriend.  So when I was upset about something my boyfriend did or I was excited about going on a trip or what I was doing that weekend, my job was pushed to the bottom.  I did not leave these things behind.  Also there is a person at work that would gossip and so everyone knew what was going on.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was told that I have let things slip by and what I would have caught before or followed up on was being missed.  I had been an exceptional employee and now I was letting my boss down.  He used to count on me but now not as much.  He knew about my blog and even though he has never seen me blog at work some other people have.  So I may not be writing as much at work or reading other people's blogs all the time.  I am upset because I let one thing I valued or thought highly about myself because I thought I was a hard worker and did a great job become less of a priority.  I was respected and thought highly of by my co-workers but now not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with things being the way there are now, I am going to kick some butt and gain the respect I have lost.  I am going to delegate more work to others because I have not been doing that and was told as a manager it looks bad when I have so much work in my inbox and some of my employees are always on the internet.  I am going to be the best employee they have because I know I can do a great job and I want them to think they can not lose me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-6198701578437512026?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6198701578437512026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=6198701578437512026' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6198701578437512026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6198701578437512026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/real-life-part-2.html' title='Real Life Part 2'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-5940046141907365846</id><published>2009-01-31T16:39:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T08:54:54.806-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Real Life</title><content type='html'>I think I have lived in a fantasy world.  I thought that love is like the movies, I don't need to save for the future because I will always have a job, nothing would happen to someone I know such as getting cancer or something.  Well with my neighbor I had a brush with reality.  Something will eventually happen to loved ones and I can not imagine it.  I don't want to see my parents like that or even anyone else I know.  It was hard enough seeing someone I barely knew.  I now know that there is no prince charming, everyone will have problems and relationships are hard work.  I still am not sold on that because I think that if you are truely in love you will do anything for a loved one.  And now the kicker I am now scared about my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://jud-beyondthepale.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jud&lt;/a&gt; wrote a post about the layoffs he is experiencing where he works, I went out to dinner for a friends birthday and she was talking about how that day they had layed off 10% of their employees, and my cousin works for Bank of America and she had talked about the unknown of her future so this week I heard a lot about people losing their jobs.  One of the reasons I like where I work because they have said they would never have mass layoffs and always put employees first.  I do not work for Bank of America or Wachovia for a reason because those larger banks will cut departments to save money and I felt I would be more of a number than a person.  Granted I may have made more money working for a larger company I liked working somewhere where the President of the Investment side of the bank makes a point to know each person's name from day one.  So when I heard about our company announcing layoffs I was shocked.  When I read about it on the Internet it stated about how the company who once said they would not do this was now and would not mention any numbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have already started this but it was on the bank side or IT but nothing in our department but it still bothered me about how I once thought they would never do this is now going against that what they said.  I think in the financial industry it is inevitable and even though they are doing some restructuring they are doing whatever they can not to.  They are trying to place them in other jobs etc. but there are still some people that are out of luck.  My manager met with me and his other managers and assured us that we are okay and how we had a profitable year, we are already bone thin compared to other areas in the bank  and that our department actually had a more profitable year than the previous one.  He mentioned that our company as a whole has done well compared to others in the industry.  After we come out of this we will be at an advantage etc.  This was a somewhat pep talk but also I heard that another department had a somewhat different pep talk.  I will not go into what they were told in case someone at work reads this but I am sure they will not. Basically they were told that we maybe safe now but we can not control what the future holds.  I think this was smart because I have always thought that nothing like this would happen.  I would buy luxury things (I am a shopoholic) instead of planning for my future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My manager said he had a good feeling when leaving his meeting with his boss.  That it was a pep talk and the meeting was to make sure people know that things are okay right now.  I have a different feeling.  The future is uncertain and things can eventually happen especially working in the financial industry.  Some of the older people have said they are amazed that nothing has happened before.  There is always mergers and buyouts etc that go on with banking.  I heard stories about how they call people in a room and will say if you are in this room then you are safe, while others do not have that luck and are told they are gone and shown a chart where it shows the diversity of who they cut.  They cut so many females, males, white, black, hispanic, old, young, basically they had certain numbers of each gender, race, age etc that they would lay off and they just so happen to meet that criteria. Even if we are told that things have been profitable and not to worry, I think it is particularly scary right now.  If something did happen it is a lot harder to find work right now. I feel scared for the people I know but I am going to take my cousin's advice.  I asked her how she is handling things because she is not sure what is going to happen where she works.  She made the first round of cuts but the future is not good for the department she works in.  She said she tries not to think about it.  She could spend her time worried and upset but what good would it do.  If something happens then she can go through those emotions but for the time being she can not make herself upset about something that may not even happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://jud-beyondthepale.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-5940046141907365846?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/5940046141907365846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=5940046141907365846' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/5940046141907365846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/5940046141907365846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/real-life.html' title='Real Life'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-6186026594970776694</id><published>2009-01-31T16:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T16:39:13.480-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Karma</title><content type='html'>Justin Timberlake says "what goes around comes back around" and now I think he is right.  I wrote a post about my neighbors and now I feel aweful because something happened to one of the few nice ones.  The guy who lives right beside me always has been nice.  He keeps to himself never complains and he does not like that busybody neighbor who lives downstairs either.  He does not have any pets but signed the waiver against the new pet policy to help me and Emory (the other neighbor with a pug out).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I came home and there was a firetruck out front.  I thought oh no I did something wrong like left my oven on or other stupid things I do sometimes.  In college one time I came home and there was a firetruck in front of the house where we rented the top floor.  We found out that the fire started on our back balcony where in college we would smoke.  They had to flush the walls all the way down the house but there was no real damage inside just the balcony and water damage to the floors below.  My brother in law is a lawyer and was just starting out so I called my sister and immediately asked to talk to Bobby.  That was not the only time I have done that so now whenever I ask to talk to Bobby she knows I have done something.  It is nice to have a lawyer in the family because he saved us.  The fireman said that the fire started from a cigarette but my brother said he could not prove it and that there could have been cigarette butts from a long time ago so he should not put that down as the cause.  I don't know what all he said but I do know that the cause was unknown and we even ended up getting our deposit back.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I saw the firetruck I just knew it was something I have done again.  As I pulled around to see my place and that it was still standing without a door busted in.  Yes that happened before because my air conditoner did something that made it overflow and water soaked through to the first floor (I live on the third floor).  Now that I think about it, I may not be the best person to live next to either.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I entered my condo and the dogs were fine and there was no one in there.  So what could it be?  There was an odd feeling and everything was dead silent.  Then I hear some people talking and I thought somebody was coming to yell at me about the dogs or noise maybe the dogs were barking while I was gone so I did not open the door.  I looked through the peephole and saw several people were outside.  I then saw them pushing a wheelchair with what looked like the guy next door.  My heart stopped because I have never seen something like this.  He looked like he either was drugged or he had a stroke, but this man was probably in his 40's so I was shocked to see him in this state.  I should have gone outside but I thought that otherwise.  I went to my balcony and saw an ambulance along with the firetruck and waited to see if I could see anything.  I really wanted to know if it was my neighbor or a friend of his because I was not positive it was him.  It looked sort of like him because they both had a bald head that was shaved but his face looked different but that could have been because of the state he was in.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is like when you see a car wreck and even though you know you shouldn't most people slow down to see if they can see what is going on.  Why do people want to look?  I really want to know what went on and I briefly contimplated knocking on the nosy neighbor downstairs to get the scoop.  But I thought how can I be like the person who should mind their own business.  I would not want someone to be in my business especially if he had done something like took some pills or whatever happened.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I feel terrible, I still want to know but I think it is different.  It is not gossip like this person has not paid their homeowner's fees or this person is having marriage problems or anything negative.  I want to know because I am concerned.  I think he was a nice man and I have lived next to him for almost 4 years.  Besides recently when he said he signed the proxy and I asked if he had a problem with my dryer (somehow the lint was coming out of the vent by his walkway), we have never shared a conversation more than hi.  This is how nice he was because he did not call the president of the homeowners association, but he just would sweep the lint up.  I saw him doing this and asked if that happened a lot and he told me it did so I immediately said I would try and fix the problem.  He has really appreciative which is not like the mean person down stairs.  I tried to figure out what was going on but that is definately something he should have told me was happening because that is a legitamite problem.  So I should "love thy neighbor as thyself" because you never know what can happen.  But I am having a hard time with that because the person downstairs is so mean.  Maybe he should take that advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-6186026594970776694?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6186026594970776694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=6186026594970776694' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6186026594970776694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6186026594970776694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/karma.html' title='Karma'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-184447904238163022</id><published>2009-01-30T09:34:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T09:56:28.857-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Driving Mr. Kennedy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SYMUzxuCiSI/AAAAAAAAAdw/f6VaAw3ksrY/s1600-h/8-26-2008+185.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/_J41rnW7kjvw/SYMUzxuCiSI/AAAAAAAAAdw/f6VaAw3ksrY/s400/8-26-2008+185.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297100466470160674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SYMUA7EL8rI/AAAAAAAAAdo/8f-3RyRH3PM/s1600-h/ella+treat+3.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/_J41rnW7kjvw/SYMUA7EL8rI/AAAAAAAAAdo/8f-3RyRH3PM/s400/ella+treat+3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297099592805642930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night and tonight I agreed to keep my friend's dog Kennedy who is a King Charles Cavalier like my dog Ella. So I was so excited because I thought they would have so much fun together and because I would get to snuggle in my bed with 2 dogs. That might sound a little weird but I let my dog sleep with me every night. She usually hogs the bed or lays on my head but I let her anyway. I was excited walking them around the block and showing them off. I felt like Sex in the City, Charlotte had a dog like Ella, but it was fun walking with these two little pooches. Later on I wanted to bring them by a friend house to show them off. Now you know how I am with driving. My car is in the shop because the shifter will not work and there are pieces falling off from where I would hit things, but I am still holding off on getting that fixed. My driving abilities are not the best and I even have friends that will not ride with me. If someone new does ride with me they hold on for for dear life. I really don't think it is that bad but I found out when I drove Kennedy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella was in my lap and Kennedy was sitting on the passenger seat. I drive Ella around all the time and she loves the car. She has no fear sticking almost her whole body out the window, ears flapping driving down the highway or around the block. This was not at all how Kennedy behaved. At first he was sitting in the seat chilling but when I started driving it changed. By the end of the ride he had his face up against the seat of the car like he was getting support from the back of the seat. He did not look happy at all. I mean even a dog can not ride with me. How can I be that bad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-184447904238163022?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/184447904238163022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=184447904238163022' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/184447904238163022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/184447904238163022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/driving-mr-kennedy.html' title='Driving Mr. Kennedy'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SYMUzxuCiSI/AAAAAAAAAdw/f6VaAw3ksrY/s72-c/8-26-2008+185.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-2723983348529310548</id><published>2009-01-29T14:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T14:42:59.443-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cooper River Bridge Run</title><content type='html'>I just wrote a long blog but I got a work phone call and some paperwork was laying on my keyboard and so I pushed something and now it is deleted.  So I will keep this short and sweet.  I am trying to lose weight, I have already lost 7 lbs but I need to work on.  I am going back to a personal trainer I paid for way back last year tonight.  By the way I am also starting a budget.  So I am a little scared I may get killed tonight but if I make it out alive I will write some more tomorrow.  I am on this fitness kick or want to be since I have not started actually working out (does imagining you doing it or dreaming about running count)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I signed up for the Cooper River Bridge Run in Charleston which is in April so I now have to get my butt in gear.  I guess it is good to have a goal but I hope I don't slack off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-2723983348529310548?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2723983348529310548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=2723983348529310548' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2723983348529310548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2723983348529310548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/cooper-river-bridge-run.html' title='Cooper River Bridge Run'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1507648798598493676</id><published>2009-01-28T09:36:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T10:23:15.637-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Neighbors</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SYB4LS3yycI/AAAAAAAAAdg/zrAidUzvTBw/s1600-h/neighbors.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 274px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SYB4LS3yycI/AAAAAAAAAdg/zrAidUzvTBw/s400/neighbors.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296365297227450818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SYB4FvI0gNI/AAAAAAAAAdY/YEcNFmRqgeE/s1600-h/neighbor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 318px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SYB4FvI0gNI/AAAAAAAAAdY/YEcNFmRqgeE/s400/neighbor.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296365201735844050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to rant today. I think everyone has some interesting neighbors but it is especially difficult living in a complex. I ask you what is something funny or something you want to rant about your neighbors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister's street put a speed bump and one neighbor posted a sign, if you don't like this speed bump thank so and so.. They fight over the street and the funny thing is they both have the same friends and belong to the same supper club. So they yell at each other and then at night make polite conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No I do not live in Melrose Place where there are cute young fun neighbors but I live in a place with older people that have nothing better to do than to complain about others. There is one lady that lives downstairs from me that sits by her window and watches everything that goes on. Does she have anything better to do, I guess not. She complains about everything and is one to hunt you down and tell you exactly what so and so did. She has her curtain open and sits in a chair by the window. Who is this person. I have lived with that for a long time and usually I hide in my car if I see her and wait to go inside so I don't have to listen to her ramble on and complain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is one man that lives there that is super friendly and we talk sometimes because he has a pug and of course I have Ella so we see each other walking the dogs. He told me yesterday that they are trying to pass something about pets in the bylaws of the homeowners association. There are two pages. First you can not own two animals so if I want another dog that is out. You can not have an animal over 40 pounds so the girl with the lab would have a problem. There is someone that had some visitors that had some big dogs that barked so now we have to suffer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other thing is the person who lives downstairs came up one time at 6:30 PM and said I had been making too much noise all day. I had a party that night so I had a maid come clean up and she was moving furniture. Come on it was not 11:00 at night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1507648798598493676?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1507648798598493676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1507648798598493676' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1507648798598493676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1507648798598493676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/neighbors.html' title='Neighbors'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SYB4LS3yycI/AAAAAAAAAdg/zrAidUzvTBw/s72-c/neighbors.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-38482083652231729</id><published>2009-01-21T13:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T14:09:59.338-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Digi Fun Contest</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SXdyguxA24I/AAAAAAAAAcs/ev1WGvP-gsA/s1600-h/FotoFlexer_Photo.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/_J41rnW7kjvw/SXdyguxA24I/AAAAAAAAAcs/ev1WGvP-gsA/s400/FotoFlexer_Photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293825793632295810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am playing along in a contest that I got from &lt;a href="http://georgienba.blogspot.com/"&gt;Georgie&lt;/a&gt;.  Linda at &lt;a href="http://www.shortpumppreppy.com/"&gt;Short Pump Preppy&lt;/a&gt; is having a Digi Fun Contest and of course I love contests so I had to enter.  Here is my fun pic and I had so much fun doing this, there might be more coming.  &lt;a href="http://www.shortpumppreppy.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img border="0" alt="Short Pump Preppy" src="http://i343.photobucket.com/albums/o444/shortpumpblog/buttondigifun1.gif"/&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-38482083652231729?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/38482083652231729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=38482083652231729' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/38482083652231729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/38482083652231729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/digi-fun-contest.html' title='Digi Fun Contest'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SXdyguxA24I/AAAAAAAAAcs/ev1WGvP-gsA/s72-c/FotoFlexer_Photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-6535092742121618024</id><published>2009-01-21T11:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T12:13:40.814-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ella in the Snow</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SXdXsT2ParI/AAAAAAAAAck/rn-pkuMljyo/s1600-h/8-26-2008+163.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SXdXsT2ParI/AAAAAAAAAck/rn-pkuMljyo/s320/8-26-2008+163.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293796305750944434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SXdXjLlUkfI/AAAAAAAAAcc/ni8LopBkUss/s1600-h/8-26-2008+164.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SXdXjLlUkfI/AAAAAAAAAcc/ni8LopBkUss/s320/8-26-2008+164.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293796148913672690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a mom (to a dog) but I took some pictures of Ella's first snow!!! She was a little hesitant at first but she came around. I just think my pooh bear is so cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-6535092742121618024?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6535092742121618024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=6535092742121618024' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6535092742121618024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6535092742121618024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/ella-in-snow.html' title='Ella in the Snow'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SXdXsT2ParI/AAAAAAAAAck/rn-pkuMljyo/s72-c/8-26-2008+163.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-2713299369909042279</id><published>2009-01-21T02:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T03:07:37.668-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't Sleep</title><content type='html'>It is after 2 in the morning and I can't sleep.  I got off of some medicine that helped me sleep but also made me gain some of the weight I have put on in the last several months.  I feel like this medicine made me drowsy during the day and also less creative.  So we will see.  It made me feel blah so I am glad to not be taking it anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see today it snowed and was freezing in Charlotte.  I got up extra early so I could make it into work on time.  Car trouble as always made that impossible.  I tried to put my car in reverse but something is wrong with the gear shift.  I had to walk in the snow to get a ride to work.  I arrived at work and I thought that when there was snow we could wear jeans.  I looked around and I was the only one that had this thought.  Oh well another blunder but hey I got to wear jeans to work.  At first I hid at my desk and hoped no one would notice but I was wrong. Everyone commented on the fact that I wore jeans but then I heard that the President had on jeans today also!  So I guess smart people think alike and all the others were suffering in there business attire and I got to leave my desk and prance around with everyone enveying the me.  Ha Ha..  I was not about to walk the block in the snow in business attire.  What will they do fire me over this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got back on Sunday from Aspen and decided to really take this diet thing seriously.  After a cinnamin biscuit which I love from Bojangle's and a coke yesterday, I said goodbye to that was the last of those for a long time.  I will keep you updated.  I weighed myself and did the wii fit.  I created a new person so it would not say, you have changed weight since the last time.  I just don't need to hear what I already know.  So far I have been good and have not had a coke since, which caused me withdrawal and a headache today, but the good news is that I lost 5 lbs since yesterday.  How can that be? My scale must be wrong but I guess it is the water weight and the lack of my weight gaining medicine which caused the good news.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My stomach has gone down but I still have a gut which is not attractive.  I am excited about this and let's hope I stay motivated.  So ask me sometimes about the weight so I can have some support.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random thought, why does CSI and those other shows always have flashlights.  No matter if it is daylight and they are investigating they always use flashlights in houses.  Turn the lights on.  It never fails.  So next time you watch CSI and you see the flashlights, think of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dieting has made me a little cranky which of course caused me to be irritated with my boyfriend.  He is coming back from Aspen tomorrow and we usually see each other on the weekends so I figured we would this weekend.  He has been away for 2 1/2 weeks and just wants to be alone.  He has spent a lot of time with his niece's and sister which is a definate change from his lifestyle.  This hurt my feelings a little bit and even though I understand, I do not like hearing that he wants to be alone.  Are we ever going to move forward because he is so independent and has his own lifestyle which sometimes I think is so set in stone that he would not want to change it.  It makes me wonder if 2 years down the road we will still be doing the same thing.  I live in a different city and even though it is just over an hour away, we don't see each other that much.  How can we ever take that next step when this is okay with him?  Being with him for several days in Aspen was a change but what would it be like if we were together all the time? Would we get sick of each other or would it bring us closer?  Maybe I will never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I just with him because we are not moving forward? Remember this is the guy I blogged about not being "relationship material" who I accidently sent him a post that linked to my blog and he read.  Another Anne blunder but I guess it did not phase him.  He used to talk about the future but now we have hit a relationship standstill.  I guess only time will tell.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to talk about moving to Charleston but how can I do anything when I don't know where this relationship is heading?  That may be a cop-out because I am too content where I am and don't want to take that drastic step but I feel like time is slipping by.  Life is so short and there are so many things I could do right now.  I envy the people who travel and can pick up and move anywhere, meet new people and have many adventures.  There is so much out there that I could be experiencing.  Just going to Aspen and seeing a different way of life.  I am not talking about the glitzy part but the people that live out there because the love to ski, snowboard or whatever.  They have a passion for life and will do anything to be able to do what they want.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think that all of these materialistic things I want to buy is to replace the passion that I lack.  What happened to the young girl who wanted to move to Costa Rica and have dreadlock babies.  I dated a surfer in high school so that is where that idea came from.  He was into Bob Marley and still is I heard.  I saw a picture of him and he has the long dreadlocks and still is surfing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is my passion?  What is my signature?  I thought about this today.  So I ask you this, what is your passion?  What is something that you would love to do or dreamed about as a child?  Did you follow your dreams?  Is there something you look back on and wish you did?  What is the one regret that you have?  What is the one choice that you are glad you made?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-2713299369909042279?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2713299369909042279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=2713299369909042279' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2713299369909042279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2713299369909042279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/cant-sleep.html' title='Can&apos;t Sleep'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-2024028933169757776</id><published>2009-01-20T17:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T17:13:33.772-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Aspen</title><content type='html'>I had a lot of fun in Aspen.  I only went skiing one day but it was enough.  It is expensive to rent ski's and then a lift ticket for a day is $100.  Sorry but I like to shop too much and boy did I do some shopping.  Something about being on vacation makes me want to buy things.  That might not be much of a change from everyday but I say what the h*** I'm on vacation.  So now I have to count my quarters for the rest of the month because I spent too much money.  See I had to have the perfect boots to go out there and a new ski jacket not to mention sunglasses, gloves, hat, and that was before I got to Aspen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the most fun I had was just hanging out by the condo and sleding.  Bob's niece's had a lot of fun and seeing smiles on children's faces does something to the soul.  A new pair of boots does not give you that feeling.  Is it that I am finally getting older and realizing what is important in life?  Do you really have a biological clock and playing with the children was my way of easing what is ticking inside of me.  No, I don't want children yet... so slow down clock.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am back in Charlotte and the snow followed me.  I can't wait to get off work and play in it.  Makes you feel like a child again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-2024028933169757776?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2024028933169757776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=2024028933169757776' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2024028933169757776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2024028933169757776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/aspen.html' title='Aspen'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-6216819016109374103</id><published>2009-01-19T18:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T19:12:09.397-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Skiing and NOT FALLING!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;EMBED style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 400px" name=flashticker align=middle src=http://widget-30.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf type=application/x-shockwave-flash flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=792633534437703728&amp;amp;site=widget-30.slide.com" wmode="transparent" salign="l" scale="noscale" quality="high"&gt;&lt;/EMBED&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;DIV style="WIDTH: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;A href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=792633534437703728&amp;amp;map=1" target=_blank&gt;&lt;IMG isMap src="http://widget-30.slide.com/p1/792633534437703728/bb_t000_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border=0&gt;&lt;/A&gt; &lt;A href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=792633534437703728&amp;amp;map=2" target=_blank&gt;&lt;IMG isMap src="http://widget-30.slide.com/p2/792633534437703728/bb_t000_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border=0&gt;&lt;/A&gt; &lt;A href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;amp;id=792633534437703728&amp;amp;amp;map=2" target=_blank&gt;&lt;IMG isMap src="http://widget-30.slide.com/m/792633534437703728/bb_t000_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide9_1.gif" border=0&gt;&lt;/A&gt; &lt;A href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=792633534437703728&amp;amp;map=F" target=_blank&gt;&lt;IMG isMap src="http://widget-30.slide.com/p4/792633534437703728/bb_t000_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border=0&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;Here are some pictures from Aspen I thought I would share. I will write another blog about it. &lt;A href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target=_blank&gt;&lt;IMG style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png"&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-6216819016109374103?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6216819016109374103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=6216819016109374103' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6216819016109374103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6216819016109374103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/skiing-and-not-falling.html' title='Skiing and NOT FALLING!!!'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-6339171684336611383</id><published>2009-01-13T09:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T14:13:11.324-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In Her Shoes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWznsK4kc-I/AAAAAAAAAcU/mlEB6yjrBfI/s1600-h/Florida+trip+with+mom+and+Anne+2003+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWznsK4kc-I/AAAAAAAAAcU/mlEB6yjrBfI/s320/Florida+trip+with+mom+and+Anne+2003+005.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290858408275375074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the movie In Her Shoes because it reminds me a lot of my relationship with my sister.  Of course I never kissed her boyfriend or anything, but I was always the younger irresponsible one and I would always go to my sister for help.  We have a close relationship and she always seemed more like a mother to me than my sister.  I invited her to go with me to the Panther's playoff game.  Besides the outcome of the game we had a great time.  She told me that she realized that she needs to start acting more like a sister.  Who cares if my place is a mess, we can still have fun together and that is what we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up my sister was my idol but I hated being compared to her.  She was the outgoing one and I was the shy one.  I came to realize this weekend that she really does all the talking so I can not put a word in anyway.  She is very pretty and guys in my grade always had crushes on her.  She was the smart one that had the history, math and excelled in english which was my weak point.  She was the star tennis player, while I would lose my racket in discouragement.  I think I never thought I could live up to her so I would take the backseat.  She would tell me that you are the pretty one, great in the business world etc.  But I don't see it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jean was not always so great.  In high school she was getting into trouble but by the time I came around it seemed like I was an angel.  She broke the parents in for me.  Thanks!  She would buy me beer when she babysat me in high school and I would throw parties.  It was so much fun.  She showed me the ropes.  Then it kindof changed because I never did grow up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She got married and had kids young and I am still single and not planning on kids until I can take care of myself.  It is this gap between us that caused us to not be as close as we once were.  It is hard relating to my friends and family with children because I don't have that.  They are stay at home moms and some of them have even told me that they are only close to people with children.  She said she had a new best friend.  I say she was extremely rude.  I would never tell a friend I don't want to hang out because you don't have children.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I am glad we put our differences aside and ended up just being together.  She still did all the talking and I kind of liked it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-6339171684336611383?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6339171684336611383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=6339171684336611383' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6339171684336611383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6339171684336611383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/in-her-shoes.html' title='In Her Shoes'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWznsK4kc-I/AAAAAAAAAcU/mlEB6yjrBfI/s72-c/Florida+trip+with+mom+and+Anne+2003+005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-446793586381681339</id><published>2009-01-12T07:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T07:56:01.711-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Going to Happen, Anne's Going to Aspen</title><content type='html'>So clumsy Anne is going to go hit the slopes. This might not be a good thing. Walking on ice when I can not walk anyway may lead me to a broken body part. I can just picture me going down the mountain out of control and landing face first covered in snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am proud of myself because the shopoholic took over and I was able to control myself. Well I had to because I don't have much money in my bank account. I was wanting to buy all new ski gear (not a reasonable purchase because I don't ski ever) and all kinds of warm attire. Luckily I went shopping crazy last year before we went to the mountains so I have some warm clothes. I was able to borrow somethings from my cousin and also I will borrow some things from his sister. However I still might buy a camera or something when I get out there. Let's hope I can control myself. It is hard being a shopoholic. I wish there was some drug that helps me quit. Maybe I will discover something and then make tons of money so then I can shop again. Well I guess that defeats the purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been dying to go on a trip. So much so it has caused countless arguments with my boyfriend because I love to travel. Traveling is an adventure and there are so many places to go. My boyfriend is the reasonable one and knows that times are hard now and trips are one thing to cut out. I have never gone on a far away trip with him and it is something I have longed for. We have gone to Charleston several times, but I always visit Charleston and we had one wonderful trip to the mountains but I have never flown anywhere to go somewhere with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His sister lives in Aspen Colorado and he has been out there helping with some personal matters. I thought I would not see him for a couple of weeks and he mentioned coming to Aspen. So that is the sore point. He mentions going on trips all the time and it gets my hopes up because it never happens. Well times are changing and I booked a flight last night. I got a pretty good deal and since his sister lives there, I do not have to pay for a hotel and all the other expenses that comes with going out of town. So all in all, it is going to cost less than 4 nights out of town in Charleston. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been lucky because my father has always saw value on traveling. He did not spend much money on other things such as expensive clothes, dinner and other luxuries so we could go on trips. As a child I went to places all over the country. When I was in college he wanted me to do a semester abroad but instead I got to backpack across Europe. That taught me more about life and about myself than any class I ever took or experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-446793586381681339?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/446793586381681339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=446793586381681339' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/446793586381681339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/446793586381681339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-going-to-happen-annes-going-to.html' title='It&apos;s Going to Happen, Anne&apos;s Going to Aspen'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1983426224811197185</id><published>2009-01-08T12:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T12:53:45.267-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Games</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWY9coVgMkI/AAAAAAAAAcM/ALWGpaUIiJU/s1600-h/wii.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWY9coVgMkI/AAAAAAAAAcM/ALWGpaUIiJU/s320/wii.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288982374466466370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://finickymeterisnotavailable.blogspot.com/"&gt;Finicky &lt;/a&gt;I forgot to mention in my last post one of my favorite things beginning with an M are a local Myrtle Beach band, the Mullets. They are so much fun to go see. I can't remember if it is Deb or Georgie that wants to buy the Wii fit and then Jud played the Wii on New Years Eve but I am glad to see there are other people over the age of 10 that like to play video games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am addicted and my boyfriend says I must be the only 31 year old playing games. Not true!!! My mom is addicted to card games and my sister is constantly playing computer games so I naturally have an instinct to love games. Sudoku, bejeweled, enigmo are all favorites on my Iphone. If I am not playing games on my phone, then I am taking a break at lunch to go home and play guitar hero. Love it!! When you are sitting at a desk all day you need a game break so I don't know why he does not understand this. He sits on his iphone and surfs the Internet (which I can do all day at work) so whats the big deal about me playing sudoku? It stimulates the brain you know. I don't know when he is going to realize to get over the fact I play games. Nagging me all the time or saying no normal grown up that likes to play games is not going to change anything. I am still addicted to them just like he is addicted to surfing the internet on his iphone. Aren't there bigger problems in the world?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if anyone is on facebook but I got a sticker or whatever it is called from my cousin which is about someone hurting themselves playing wii. I talked about this is a previous post about my trip to the hospital after cutting my hand on a wine glass playing wii. It does happen. Everything the past couple of days brings be back to these games. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a Wii Fit and it is cool but it would be cooler if I actually used it. There is a lot of good things but when you step on it, the thing weighs you. Tells you if you are in a normal range, your flexibility level etc. Last time I got on it the thing said, well wrote, that my weight had changed and it was a while since I been on it. Don't I feel bad enough, I don't need a machine to tell me I have gained weight and I know I am clumsy. I write several blogs about it so telling me my balance skills are below normal is not new. I will say it is a good thing and if I used it I may learn not to fall down so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So off to take a break and play a game on my phone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1983426224811197185?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1983426224811197185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1983426224811197185' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1983426224811197185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1983426224811197185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/games.html' title='Games'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWY9coVgMkI/AAAAAAAAAcM/ALWGpaUIiJU/s72-c/wii.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-779483020534812215</id><published>2009-01-07T13:42:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T16:08:29.479-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10 of My Favorite Things Starting With the Letter M</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://notnani.blogspot.com/"&gt;Soxy Deb&lt;/a&gt; did a post about her favorite things beginning with the letter C and of course I wanted to play. I was given the letter M. Oh the letter mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Money &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWUGQSFuvvI/AAAAAAAAAb0/IfcUCa0pyTk/s1600-h/71014_MoneyHappiness_vl-vertical.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 149px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWUGQSFuvvI/AAAAAAAAAb0/IfcUCa0pyTk/s200/71014_MoneyHappiness_vl-vertical.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288640214220062450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. I have a love/hate relationship with money. Makes things difficult at times and can change people but you got to have money to shop and shopping is one of my favorite things. "Money Money Money, ain't it funny in a rich man's world", which brings me to #2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Mama Mia-&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWUH5FfH63I/AAAAAAAAAb8/tN9LNRSqcu0/s1600-h/MamaMiaLogo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 136px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWUH5FfH63I/AAAAAAAAAb8/tN9LNRSqcu0/s200/MamaMiaLogo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288642014723173234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Love singing Abba songs. Great now I will be singing them all day long. The play was better than the movie but the movie was still great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Meat- Nothing better than a juicy steak from Outback&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Music- Love hearing bands play. One of my favorite things to do. Especially if it is....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Dave Matthews Band- If you have read previous posts you should know how I love Dave Matthews. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Martini-&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWUR0AV2chI/AAAAAAAAAcE/jh3J5ubc6S8/s1600-h/chocolate-martini.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 185px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWUR0AV2chI/AAAAAAAAAcE/jh3J5ubc6S8/s200/chocolate-martini.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288652922559033874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Looking up images of chocolate martinis is making me thirsty. Yummy!! I could drink a gallon of them and I still can not figure out why I gained weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Men- Again a love/hate relationship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. My mother- She is an awesome lady and I hope to one day be as good of a mother as she was to me. She is the most unselfish woman and a true gem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Murrell's Inlet- Next to Pawley's Island my favorite place on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Magnolia's- Living in the south there is nothing better than the smell of magnolia's. I love to cut them and place them in a bowl. Yeah right.... I don't have a back yard but if I did and was more domesticated then I would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-779483020534812215?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/779483020534812215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=779483020534812215' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/779483020534812215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/779483020534812215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/10-of-my-favorite-things-starting-with.html' title='10 of My Favorite Things Starting With the Letter M'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWUGQSFuvvI/AAAAAAAAAb0/IfcUCa0pyTk/s72-c/71014_MoneyHappiness_vl-vertical.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-7543852583044134719</id><published>2009-01-07T09:48:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T10:04:05.124-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Are Some Tips to Make My Blog Better</title><content type='html'>I was noticing on some other people's blogs that they have a cute signature. I was trying to figure all of this out yesterday and read about &lt;a href="http://mylivesignature.com"&gt;mylivesignature.com&lt;/a&gt;. I am always a little behind but Georgie has given me a couple of pointers. Thanks!!! I am sure I will need more in the future. Of course I did it wrong and they sent me a post which probably confused everyone. So I need some help from everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are some things I can do to make my blog better? Jud said to post more pictures and I have done that, but what else. I feel like my creative juices have not been flowing and I want to liven things up. What would you like to read about? What do or do you not like? Thanks for your help!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can give you a recap of what clumsy things I did yesterday and today.  I fell this morning but I am becoming very good at catching myself.  I have done it so much it is an auto reaction.  I have gained so much weight that I ripped my pants.  I am not kidding.  I can not fit into anything I wear.  Usually being a shopoholic I would be thrilled at buying new clothes but something about buying clothes up a size and knowing you look fatter than you normally do is not appealing.  So I have been squeezing into my pants and it finally wore thin.  My guy friend at work told me I needed to go to the bathroom imediately. I asked him why and he would not tell me.  Being stubborn I would not take that as an answer so he announced you have ripped your pants in the butt.  So the rest of the day I had to make sure my sweater was covering up my backside because believe me no one wants to see that right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/40/7FAA09E5F6505E7143D3359957585291.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-7543852583044134719?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7543852583044134719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=7543852583044134719' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7543852583044134719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7543852583044134719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-are-some-tips-to-make-my-blog.html' title='What Are Some Tips to Make My Blog Better'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-7216581176779354657</id><published>2009-01-06T08:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T09:24:19.496-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWNkRycJh8I/AAAAAAAAAbs/xDQrYBmPXts/s1600-h/for0321l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWNkRycJh8I/AAAAAAAAAbs/xDQrYBmPXts/s320/for0321l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288180644223485890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWNkR5xLZVI/AAAAAAAAAbk/6mD_jt0K5Fc/s1600-h/aton352l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 202px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWNkR5xLZVI/AAAAAAAAAbk/6mD_jt0K5Fc/s320/aton352l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288180646190736722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWNkRTyZuII/AAAAAAAAAbc/DCUS8OYLII0/s1600-h/chickennewyear2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 318px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWNkRTyZuII/AAAAAAAAAbc/DCUS8OYLII0/s320/chickennewyear2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288180635995322498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love &lt;a href="http://cartoonstock.com/"&gt;Cartoonstock&lt;/a&gt; so I am phase of adding some to each post. Hope you like them. To the few that actually read this blog, I hope y'all had a great New Year's Eve and New Year's Day. Mine was pretty relaxing because I did not blow it out and just went to Charleston. We went to a nice restaurant for dinner and I hate to say it but I was falling asleep before the ball dropped. I woke up just in time to do the countdown and was back to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about what my favorite New Year's Eve was and thought it would be fun if anyone would tell me theirs and leave a comment. I usually think the best NYE are at someones house because when you go to a packed bar there it is usually too packed to even get a drink, go to the bathroom and you end up paying up the wazoo for a cover charge. The only time I had fun at a bar was when I was in college and ironically the bar was previously owned by my boyfriend. It is now long gone and I have several friends say how much they wish it was still open. That place was so much fun! It was in Murrell's Inlet &lt;a href="http://cartoonstock.com/"&gt;DebbieSox&lt;/a&gt; might have heard of it Sandpipers. They always had the best bands and the back had volleyball courts set out. That place was the best. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not know my boyfriend when I visited Sandpipers each New Years and 4th of July, but growing up on the strand you had to go there. It was laid back cool and there is nothing like it now. I would see people from high school, the beach, college all in one night. Everyone would come together for those 2 nights and the place was always packed. I guess I did not care back then. Oh the memories............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-7216581176779354657?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7216581176779354657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=7216581176779354657' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7216581176779354657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7216581176779354657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-years.html' title='New Years'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWNkRycJh8I/AAAAAAAAAbs/xDQrYBmPXts/s72-c/for0321l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-7657214331745569118</id><published>2009-01-05T07:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T07:21:35.345-05:00</updated><title type='text'>After the Holidays Weigh In</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWH4HjvaIbI/AAAAAAAAAbU/lNSFCg6ZEAw/s1600-h/ksm0745l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 235px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWH4HjvaIbI/AAAAAAAAAbU/lNSFCg6ZEAw/s320/ksm0745l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287780246246531506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWH39KIlvmI/AAAAAAAAAbM/F26plkAiCsM/s1600-h/epa1470l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWH39KIlvmI/AAAAAAAAAbM/F26plkAiCsM/s320/epa1470l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287780067574136418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took my dog to the vet and I got a phone call scolding me because Ella had gained over a pound. For a little dog that is a lot of weight. I can not say my weight gain was the same but I will talk about that later. He told me that she could end up being as wide as she is long. After saying yes sir, I will try harder, not give her treats etc. I thought it was over until the dreaded report card. She got an actual report card that said her overall appearance was abnormal. No, she is not abnormal she is darling. Then when I read why I was in shock. It said she was obese. My dog is not obese!!! So Ella is on a diet. It is pretty easy for dogs. I just don't give her as much food. I wish it was the same for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Christmas did me in. I had a dessert party which means I had tons of left overs. Chocolate here, peppermint bark there next thing you know I weigh more than I ever have. I thought I would diet after the new year so I kept on eating and eating and eating. Now I have to pay. I started a diet last night and I was so hungry. My stomach was hurting and I had a headache from lack of food, but I think that is because my stomach was so stretched out from everything I had been eating. Dieting is hard especially when you are used to eating big macs and drinking cokes all the time. So here is my new diet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slim Fast shakes with banana's- surprisingly good&lt;br /&gt;Lean Cuisine Glazed Chicken- Love it but I could eat 10&lt;br /&gt;Eggs&lt;br /&gt;Water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to figure some other things out that I will eat. I think just laying off the fast food and cutting back on cokes will help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought a book called the Diet Selector. I had no idea there were so many diets. Here are some of them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 Apple-a-day diet&lt;br /&gt;Drinking Man's Diet&lt;br /&gt;French Woman's Diet&lt;br /&gt;Peanut Butter Diet&lt;br /&gt;Tri Color Diet and my favorite&lt;br /&gt;What Would Jesus Eat?????? Huh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-7657214331745569118?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7657214331745569118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=7657214331745569118' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7657214331745569118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7657214331745569118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/after-holidays-weigh-in.html' title='After the Holidays Weigh In'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWH4HjvaIbI/AAAAAAAAAbU/lNSFCg6ZEAw/s72-c/ksm0745l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-3812045781341377931</id><published>2009-01-04T14:28:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T14:48:32.769-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's A Boy!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWESH7lEPuI/AAAAAAAAAbE/B05c162PW7U/s1600-h/P1090226StoryTime.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWESH7lEPuI/AAAAAAAAAbE/B05c162PW7U/s320/P1090226StoryTime.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287527364971216610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWER55qWA6I/AAAAAAAAAa8/HrqLhQtljgY/s1600-h/DSC03919NanandPopsgifts.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWER55qWA6I/AAAAAAAAAa8/HrqLhQtljgY/s320/DSC03919NanandPopsgifts.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287527123938313122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWERvMmMYMI/AAAAAAAAAa0/lojICnncNVE/s1600-h/DSC03897FestivalOfLights.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWERvMmMYMI/AAAAAAAAAa0/lojICnncNVE/s200/DSC03897FestivalOfLights.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287526940042617026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWERmLmkurI/AAAAAAAAAas/W0gt_DO4vDM/s1600-h/IMG_5686LittleMoreHere.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWERmLmkurI/AAAAAAAAAas/W0gt_DO4vDM/s200/IMG_5686LittleMoreHere.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287526785156954802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWEQ-EKrX0I/AAAAAAAAAak/JFMeP2DM0u4/s1600-h/DSC03829.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWEQ-EKrX0I/AAAAAAAAAak/JFMeP2DM0u4/s200/DSC03829.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287526095966134082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I already have a basketball team of nephews but we have one more on the way. There actually could be two more but my sister is going to wait to see what she is going to have. She has the only girl and she is definitely a girly girl. My sister Harriet was a tomboy so it is funny to see her with a little girl who absolutely loves dolls. It was so much fun buying her daughter Christmas presents. Girls are a lot more fun to buy for than boys. I had a blast!! It reminded me of being a little girl dressing up in tutu's and playing with my princess wands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harriet, the sister with a girl, is a year younger than me and we would have to play GI Joes and He-Man. I still played with My Little Ponies but playing together consisted of building forts outside and not playing with dolls. I wanted to post some pictures of my one niece but I also wanted to say that I am thrilled to be adding to the bunch of boys with another addition. If you are confused here is a list of my nephews and niece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bobby-7&lt;br /&gt;Riley-7&lt;br /&gt;Harry-5&lt;br /&gt;Gage-4&lt;br /&gt;Eli-3&lt;br /&gt;Mary Mac-2&lt;br /&gt;John Houston-1&lt;br /&gt;Baby Boy- Due May &lt;br /&gt;Baby Unknown- Due late May&lt;br /&gt;Anniemac- 31- I feel like a child myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you can see how a little girl would be spoiled. By the time I have children they may be excited to have another round of children. I am still working on growing up myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-3812045781341377931?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3812045781341377931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=3812045781341377931' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3812045781341377931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3812045781341377931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-boy.html' title='It&apos;s A Boy!!!'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SWESH7lEPuI/AAAAAAAAAbE/B05c162PW7U/s72-c/P1090226StoryTime.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-3986697918276051246</id><published>2008-12-29T17:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T17:11:56.399-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And She Could Do No Wrong</title><content type='html'>I was just talking to a guy about relationships and how sad he is during the holidays being without his recent girlfriend.  She had been pressuring him for marriage and he is not ready.  This had been an ongoing problem with them because he still feels young etc.  He said at one time he did feel he could marry someone but he was young and in college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is when he said something sweet that made the romantic in me smile.  He said "she could do no wrong."  He said she had ugly feet but even her feet he thought was cute.  I don't know if this is what love is or if that is just a college romance.  To me it is what I want.  Of course everyone does something wrong at one time or another but he looked at her and all he could see is the good.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think sometimes I get discouraged because I try and try and somehow I do not end up doing the right thing.  For example, I got my boyfriend a Sony Blu Ray DVD player instead of a Panasonic that matched his TV.  I thought that Sony was the best but I found out it matters more that it is compatible for the TV.  I am hard on myself but the point should be that I wanted the best for him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe there is someone out there that would see that and say, "she can do no wrong"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-3986697918276051246?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3986697918276051246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=3986697918276051246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3986697918276051246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3986697918276051246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/and-she-could-do-no-wrong.html' title='And She Could Do No Wrong'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-5422157460151542645</id><published>2008-12-26T16:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T16:46:53.107-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Look Out Road Here I Come!</title><content type='html'>I know I scared some of y'all in my previous post about my car, but please don't be afraid when I say I am going to tear up SC roads.  I have to drive a lot during the holidays because my parents are divorced.  I drove to Columbia Wednesday night, drove back to Charlotte today and now I have to go to Myrtle Beach to see my dad.  I am leaving here at 5:30 driving to MB and then tomorrow night I am going to Charleston for a going away party for one of my best friends that is moving to San Diego. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charleston- I don't mind that drive but I do hate driving to Myrtle Beach.  Back to my itenerary, I am leaving Charleston Sunday and then going back to Columbia then back to work Monday in Charlotte.  Thank goodness I like books on tape.  It makes the time go by faster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-5422157460151542645?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/5422157460151542645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=5422157460151542645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/5422157460151542645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/5422157460151542645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/look-out-road-here-i-come.html' title='Look Out Road Here I Come!'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-3943142142053396440</id><published>2008-12-24T12:41:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T12:55:51.877-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gift Etiquette</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVJ3g7giV6I/AAAAAAAAAaU/8aAMBvepBlY/s1600-h/8-26-2008+162.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVJ3g7giV6I/AAAAAAAAAaU/8aAMBvepBlY/s320/8-26-2008+162.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283416720472692642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVJ3cUowSpI/AAAAAAAAAaM/Wgs4NKcsggA/s1600-h/8-26-2008+161.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVJ3cUowSpI/AAAAAAAAAaM/Wgs4NKcsggA/s320/8-26-2008+161.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283416641318701714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My head is spinning because I have heard about gift etiquette but usually I just get Christmas gifts for the family and my employees.  I end up spending a fortune and I don't have a fortune to spend.  So when I hear about buying for your dog groomer, hairdresser, etc. I am losing it.  When should buying a gift be expected or some sort of requirement?  I had someone at work donate to an organization in the name of our department as a gift.  I thought that was a wonderful gift.  There are so many needy people and I probably waste a lot of money spending on trinkets for my employees that they do not even like.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, I posted a picture of what one of my employees gave me for Christmas.  It is cute and a funny gag (I like the paperclips stuck to the butt) but her card was actually the best part.  She said I was her role model and even though she may be kissing up, I believe her.  She is a young one and this is her first job and she has a lot of potential especially as a manager not just because she knows what to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am ready to go home for the holiday's and not be at work!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-3943142142053396440?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3943142142053396440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=3943142142053396440' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3943142142053396440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3943142142053396440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/gift-etiquette.html' title='Gift Etiquette'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVJ3g7giV6I/AAAAAAAAAaU/8aAMBvepBlY/s72-c/8-26-2008+162.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1008933354880557662</id><published>2008-12-24T10:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T12:41:32.361-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To Buy or Not to Buy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVJrO0R9RzI/AAAAAAAAAaE/WFgby7i3jTI/s1600-h/2DB86219A359B997752DEC005E703CC8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVJrO0R9RzI/AAAAAAAAAaE/WFgby7i3jTI/s320/2DB86219A359B997752DEC005E703CC8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283403215155316530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am finishing up my Christmas shopping, I think.  I always wait until the last minute which is unheard of for a shopoholic.  I just end up spending way too much money.  I always will see something I like better, then I will get something else.  If I wait until the last minute, I don't end up with a house full of presents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was done and then I remembered my boyfriends parents.  I thought a poinsetta or some plant would be enough but someone said I should get something more.  I think everyone has been at this crossroads before.  To buy or not to buy and if you do buy how much?  I have a friend that just started to see a guy casually and I asked if she was getting him a present.  She said she wasn't but later I found out she did get him a present just in case.  You don't want to give something and look like you think the relationship is at that point or make him feel bad for not getting you something, but what if he gets you something then you want to have something for him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I did not have to deal with that but now I am with the boyfriend's parents.  A bottle of wine is always good but I don't want to look like an alcoholic because they don't drink that much.  I bought a serving dish with some cheese crackers etc but I think that is too much.  Now I am so stressed all because of gift giving.  I did not know there was gift etiquitte.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1008933354880557662?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1008933354880557662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1008933354880557662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1008933354880557662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1008933354880557662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/to-buy-or-not-to-buy.html' title='To Buy or Not to Buy'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVJrO0R9RzI/AAAAAAAAAaE/WFgby7i3jTI/s72-c/2DB86219A359B997752DEC005E703CC8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-979335173419737920</id><published>2008-12-23T12:06:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T12:26:35.810-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More Office Christmas Party Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVEc4MgLp9I/AAAAAAAAAZk/Boi7cYt9J6k/s1600-h/xmas+008.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/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVEc4MgLp9I/AAAAAAAAAZk/Boi7cYt9J6k/s400/xmas+008.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283035589636761554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVEcvbV6QOI/AAAAAAAAAZc/vzr-Qnsv_eM/s1600-h/xmas+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVEcvbV6QOI/AAAAAAAAAZc/vzr-Qnsv_eM/s400/xmas+006.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283035439001387234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVEcS7a9-RI/AAAAAAAAAZU/Nj0FJmstP40/s1600-h/xmas+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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVEcS7a9-RI/AAAAAAAAAZU/Nj0FJmstP40/s400/xmas+003.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283034949396330770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVEb794X_KI/AAAAAAAAAZM/vpdEwHrSczY/s1600-h/xmas+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVEb794X_KI/AAAAAAAAAZM/vpdEwHrSczY/s400/xmas+002.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283034554919550114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I received some requests for more pictures of the office party and in general so here you go. I have a previous post about &lt;a href="http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2007/10/if-only-i-had-tan.html"&gt;tanning&lt;/a&gt; where I described my over-indulgence of tanning spray, well I did not learn my lesson. It is not hard to point me out since I have an orange glow. I also noticed in these pictures that I need to lose a couple of lbs. I know my clothes are not fitting right but man this weight gain has got to stop. Notice the girl in the jean skirt. She is from Russia and is a wild child.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-979335173419737920?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/979335173419737920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=979335173419737920' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/979335173419737920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/979335173419737920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/more-office-christmas-party-pictures.html' title='More Office Christmas Party Pictures'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SVEc4MgLp9I/AAAAAAAAAZk/Boi7cYt9J6k/s72-c/xmas+008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-6194924729313533843</id><published>2008-12-22T10:38:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T15:21:34.711-05:00</updated><title type='text'>“True Love burns the brightest, But the brightest flames leave the deepest scars.”</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SU_0IZuwUHI/AAAAAAAAAZE/5HxOeu1nnu0/s1600-h/heartache.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 111px; height: 88px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SU_0IZuwUHI/AAAAAAAAAZE/5HxOeu1nnu0/s400/heartache.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282709313112002674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are not going so well with my boyfriend. We got into a fight and I don't know what is going to happen. The person who said, "It is better to have loved and have lost than to never be loved at all" probably did not say that right after the to have lost part. My stomach feels in knots and I now know why people lose weight when they are upset. I can not eat anything so maybe I will lose that 10 pounds after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I drink I am no longer "Sweet Anne", but "emotional basketcase" Anne. It never ends well after a night of drinking with me and my boyfriend. He has known this for a long time, but I somehow do not want to listen. Everything was going well until he bought me a Rumplemints shot. I had stopped drinking the liquor and settled on a bottle of bud light in between my water. I thought I was being so good. I wanted to meet his family out so I had to be on best behavior and I was until that shot.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home I was proud of myself for not drinking a lot at the bar and not even smoking (even though I wanted to). I must really care about this person and I had so much fun with his family. He means a lot to me and so anything he is close to is also important to me. He replied that the night was not over yet. It seemed like then he wanted to pick a fight with me. He almost wanted me to get upset is what I could not understand. I had done nothing wrong and all of a sudden it was like I did everything wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then threw a hissy fit and was upset because I thought I lost my dog. I feel so foolish for behaving the way I did. I was mad because he would not help me find her (which he eventually did because she was in the house). I am not proud of behaving this way and I feel ashamed even describing the way I acted. I don't want that to be the image of me. I am normally a very sweet person but I heard that Rumplemints can make people mean. I think people should be accountable for their mistakes so blaming a drink is not an excuse. I don't drink much but sometimes when I do, I will say or do some stupid stuff. Much more than I normally do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-6194924729313533843?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6194924729313533843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=6194924729313533843' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6194924729313533843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6194924729313533843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/true-love-burns-brightest-but-brightest.html' title='“True Love burns the brightest, But the brightest flames leave the deepest scars.”'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SU_0IZuwUHI/AAAAAAAAAZE/5HxOeu1nnu0/s72-c/heartache.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-6457437979799111260</id><published>2008-12-19T08:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T09:22:34.912-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Five Things</title><content type='html'>I was tagged by &lt;a href="http://jud-beyondthepale.blogspot.com/2008/12/five-things-i-was-tagged-by-coffee.html"&gt;Jud&lt;/a&gt; to answer the following questions and then tag 5 more people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What were you doing five years ago.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must have been drinking because I can't remember.&lt;br /&gt;1. Planning the ultimate Christmas Party "Who Let the Nog Out."&lt;br /&gt;2. Just got promoted to the job I am still at.&lt;br /&gt;3. Breaking up with Dean (an ex boyfriend)&lt;br /&gt;4. Being the Maid of Honor at my LITTLE sister's wedding.&lt;br /&gt;5. A little bummed because I was the last child without a husband or wife at Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What five snacks do you enjoy the most?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. boiled peanuts&lt;br /&gt;2. popcorn&lt;br /&gt;3. cucumber sandwiches made by my boyfriend&lt;br /&gt;4. reese's peanut butter cups&lt;br /&gt;5. peanut butter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What are five things you would do as a billionare?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Quit my job and open my own retail store. Might not be a good idea now but at least I could afford the loss.&lt;br /&gt;2. Pay back my mom and dad for everything they have given me.&lt;br /&gt;3. Give a big donation to the humane society and other charities. I know most people say this but I think if you donate with no money, I am sure you would with a lot of money.&lt;br /&gt;4. Buy a yacht and travel.&lt;br /&gt;5. Buy a house in Pawley's Island and another house with lots of land so my dog can run around and actually have a backyard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What are five jobs you have had?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Worked at a coke stand at Barefoot Landing.&lt;br /&gt;2. Poolside waitress&lt;br /&gt;3. Worked at a spa&lt;br /&gt;4. Hostess&lt;br /&gt;5. Investment Operations Manager&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who are five people you want to tag?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://jud-beyondthepale.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jud&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.&lt;a href="http://finickymeterisnotavailable.blogspot.com/"&gt; Finicky&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://notnani.blogspot.com/"&gt;Soxy Deb&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://georgienba.blogspot.com/"&gt;Georgia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://thirtyawakenings.blogspot.com/"&gt;Carolina Girl&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-6457437979799111260?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6457437979799111260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=6457437979799111260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6457437979799111260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6457437979799111260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/five-things.html' title='Five Things'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-7908147798604433831</id><published>2008-12-18T09:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T10:14:36.514-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Car Problems Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SUpotMCRL4I/AAAAAAAAAYE/ZNzf5632o0E/s1600-h/8-26-2008+159.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SUpotMCRL4I/AAAAAAAAAYE/ZNzf5632o0E/s320/8-26-2008+159.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281148638579470210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SUponSKsqOI/AAAAAAAAAX8/979zkCpeTC8/s1600-h/8-26-2008+160.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SUponSKsqOI/AAAAAAAAAX8/979zkCpeTC8/s320/8-26-2008+160.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281148537146222818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said in a previous post that I did not like talking about some of my mistakes or problems because I was scared my boyfriend would read it.  One thing that bothers him is my problems with taking care of my car.  So I may get in trouble because I have a couple of confessions that happened this week with my car and I have not told him.  You asked for more pictures so I posted some of my car.  You can see the torture I put my car through.  I have hit many objects in the past which I have talked about but I will scale down to what has happened this week.  (the pink thing in the back seat of my car is my dog Ella's car seat- she has her own seat..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I was exiting the parking garage and I heard a loud scraping sound.  I had to pull over and feared seeing someone from work.  On of the pictures shows the side of my car.  The side bumper fell off.  I am driving around with my bumper inside of my car instead of the outside.  I should throw it away, I guess.  It really is pointless to get my car fixed when I just will mess it up again.  I asked my boyfriend to fix my car for Christmas.  Not a chance and now I know it is not going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Problems with my battery.  I could not start my car a couple of months ago because I left the light on.  I was told at that point, since I have had my battery for almost 4 years, to get a new one.  I thought to myself that since it started again it was fine.  Then I had to get it jumped again a few weeks later.  My car was almost out of gas when I got it jumped so I had to immediately go to a gas station.  I did not think that maybe I need to get it charged for a little bit.  So after I pumped my gas, it would not crank.  I had to get it jumped yet again.  You may think now I would get a battery.  Not me.  I drove for 20 minutes and thought it was fine. So my boyfriend kept asking me if I got a battery and I ignored him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at the CAROLINA/CLEMSON game the biggest game of the year when my car would not start (I left during half time to get some more mixers), I really did not want to call him and tell him to come pick me up.  Leave the game, no girlfriend would them to do that.  Well anyone that cared about football.  I sat outside in the rain waiting for someone to jump my car again.  When my friend called wondering where I was, she immediately came and picked me up.  They could not understand why I did not call my boyfriend.  I think if they knew the history of him asking me to get a car battery, they might understand.  The next week I got a new battery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Two days ago I got pulled over.  I have not told him this either.  I feel great letting this out.  I have not updated my registration because I have to get my car inspected.  Yikes..  I hope it passes.  I was pulling into the doctor's office so the whole world could see that I got pulled over.  Everyone then had to ask if I was okay.  It was so embarrassing.  I can get the ticket dismissed when I get my registration updated.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I live in NC and still have a SC driver's license.  I am too scared to take the test.  Don't worry, I usually do not hit other cars, just non moving objects so you don't have to fear running into me on the street.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-7908147798604433831?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7908147798604433831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=7908147798604433831' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7908147798604433831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7908147798604433831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/car-problems-again.html' title='Car Problems Again'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SUpotMCRL4I/AAAAAAAAAYE/ZNzf5632o0E/s72-c/8-26-2008+159.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-4339273509891988541</id><published>2008-12-18T09:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T09:20:29.301-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Wishes</title><content type='html'>I have often wrote how much I love my birthday. I celebrate it for a month. With 5 brothers and sisters it was the only day that was your day. And today is Georgie's faboulous day. Her own special day because it is her BIRTHDAY. I know not many people read this blog but those who do, thank you and I value your opinion's and comments. I look forward to them everyday. That is what makes my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on Georgie's birthday she has a special wish to have 100 comments. So if you happen to read this blog, please visit her website and post a comment. Her website is georgienba.blogspot.com.  I can't get the link thing to work sorry. &lt;a href="http://georgienba.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-4339273509891988541?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/4339273509891988541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=4339273509891988541' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4339273509891988541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4339273509891988541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/birthday-wishes.html' title='Birthday Wishes'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1434662074688243113</id><published>2008-12-15T14:41:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T14:52:17.055-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Office Holiday Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SUa1HU8onJI/AAAAAAAAAX0/EuN2pBQpI_4/s1600-h/8-26-2008+145.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SUa1HU8onJI/AAAAAAAAAX0/EuN2pBQpI_4/s320/8-26-2008+145.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280106750625225874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SUazYSWjv7I/AAAAAAAAAXs/ZHFDL11lLJc/s1600-h/8-26-2008+149.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SUazYSWjv7I/AAAAAAAAAXs/ZHFDL11lLJc/s320/8-26-2008+149.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280104842963173298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had our office Christmas party last Saturday night and I am still recovering.  I actually took this picture of some of my co-workers.. hee hee...  I am now wondering what pictures they have on me.  I made a joke before going that I hoped I did not pull a Bridget Jones at the party and what do you know....  I ended up singing "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey.  Give me alcohol and eventually I will start singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was proud of myself because I did not fall.  I did spill a dessert tray again before the party started.  But overall, I just drank too much.  I got a little emotional saying how much I wish my boyfriend was there and confessing my love.  I was in charge of making some drinks and I did make some strong chocolate martini's.  I think one girl liked it so much that she ended up passing out from them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a wild night and I don't know what else I did.  I am still hurting and I am a manager.  Nice example I made but not as good as my own manager who was 2 sheets to the wind.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the tanning bed so I was real orange.  The fake tan was obvious so obvious that a co-worker said he wants an orange just from looking at me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1434662074688243113?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1434662074688243113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1434662074688243113' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1434662074688243113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1434662074688243113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/office-holiday-party.html' title='The Office Holiday Party'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SUa1HU8onJI/AAAAAAAAAX0/EuN2pBQpI_4/s72-c/8-26-2008+145.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-6832759334056284794</id><published>2008-12-12T09:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T13:27:02.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mishaps</title><content type='html'>After falling again last night, my ankle is hurt yet again, I wanted to recap some recent mishaps.  I went to work and a co worker noticed before we went downstairs that I had a hole in my butt.  This was pointed out to me at 3:00 so I went most of the day literally showing my ass!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I had a party and was setting out a dessert tray full of fruit tarts when it slipped from my hand and ended up on the floor.  &lt;a href="http://georgienba.blogspot.com"&gt;Georgia&lt;/a&gt; has a hilarious blog where she had a post for people to leave their confessions.  My confession for the day is I salvaged some and put them back on the plate.  No harm done, the floors were just mopped. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night as I was seeing people off to their cars, I tripped on some grass or something.  I tumbled onto my back in a dress with my legs way up in the air.  The whole world could see my undies.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you should be thankful because you could be like me always saying the wrong thing, hurting yourself, or showing up with lack of clothes.  I do make people laugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-6832759334056284794?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6832759334056284794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=6832759334056284794' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6832759334056284794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6832759334056284794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/mishaps.html' title='Mishaps'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-3205540997520372160</id><published>2008-12-08T08:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T08:15:35.462-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You Are Not My Type</title><content type='html'>I used to write all the time in a journal, so I started a blog.  Actually I started this blog because of all the screw ups that happen to me, I have had people say I needed to write all these things down.  I would laugh at them because if I didn't then I would just get sad.  I stopped writing about all of my screw ups because I started to date a perfectionist.  Someone I wanted to impress and everything I did wrong or not perfect would upset him.  It is hard even though he says I do not try, I do try and I still mess up.  I think that is part of life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to be the domesticated goddess and it just is stressing me out.  I was so proud of my invitation I made and he said something was wrong in the wording.  Something is always wrong.  I don't want to be a downer, but I thought things would work because opposites attact don't they?  He wanted me to be a better person and he was exactly what I thought I needed.  Maybe somehow trying to be someone that I couldn't be just ruined everything.  So after a year, I am going to get my laughter back and talk about all of my missadventures and things I am learning on the way to growing up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-3205540997520372160?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3205540997520372160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=3205540997520372160' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3205540997520372160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3205540997520372160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/you-are-not-my-type.html' title='You Are Not My Type'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-3534009173962544120</id><published>2008-12-03T16:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:02:57.465-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Undomesticated Goddess</title><content type='html'>I don't know what has gotten into me but recently I have been trying to little miss Martha Stewart. Throwing parties, getting cookbooks and compiling recipes, tackling gardening and flowers, this is just not me. Well if I think about it all I really have done is shop. Maybe it is not that I want to bake the cake but I want that cute expensive Cuisinart thing.... Thank goodness I did not buy that among my other purchases. I did not know how to boil an egg 2 weeks ago and at 31 had to call her mom, and somehow I still thought I could somehow turn into a domesticated diva overnight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am throwing a Holiday Dessert Party tomorrow night which I will talk about later. I bought most of my desserts but I decided I could bake some sugar cookies. How hard can that be? Well it did not say to add sprinkles or icing so I baked cookies all right, but how good are cookies without the sugar? I was a mess, flour all over the counter and on my pants. And what do I get out of it? Sugarless sugar cookies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-3534009173962544120?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3534009173962544120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=3534009173962544120' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3534009173962544120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3534009173962544120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/undomesticated-goddess.html' title='Undomesticated Goddess'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-7945642355359022668</id><published>2008-12-02T08:41:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T09:04:40.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Carolina/Clemson Game</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/STU_aCnbSMI/AAAAAAAAASA/WtHW6pH49uI/s1600-h/cupcakes+2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/STU_aCnbSMI/AAAAAAAAASA/WtHW6pH49uI/s320/cupcakes+2.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275192255145789634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love to throw a party. The main reason I think I like it is because you have to go shopping. I don't just make the food for a party, I love to decorate and make it an event. Even though the Carolina/Clemson game could have had a happier ending, I had a lot of fun getting ready for the game. I go through phases and right now I am in a hostess with the mostess phase. There is a blog with cool party ideas http://www.hostesswiththemostess.com.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not get too cutsy since the party was at my boyfriends house. By the way don't count on any men having serving dishes. Their idea of a serving dish is a pot. I got these cute football cupcakes from a local cupcake store in Charlotte Polka Dot Bakery. The pictures of the cupcakes above are form this blog I found and you can order some. http://onceuponacupcake.blogspot.com/2008/05/more-football-cupcakes.html &lt;a href="http://onceuponacupcake.blogspot.com/2008/05/more-football-cupcakes.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I served or bought to serve (my cooking can not turn out sometimes if you read any of my cooking fiasco's you would understand) the following things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pimento Cheese Sandwiches&lt;br /&gt;Pimento cheese to serve with crispy baguette rounds&lt;br /&gt;French Onion Dip&lt;br /&gt;Robert Rothchild Honey Mustard and pretzels&lt;br /&gt;A Fruit Tray&lt;br /&gt;Black Bean Salsa&lt;br /&gt;Deviled Eggs&lt;br /&gt;Bob got some fried chicken&lt;br /&gt;and I actually made something Crabbies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These crabbies were a hit,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the recipe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CRABBIES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 stick butter (softened)&lt;br /&gt;1 jar old English Cheese spread (softened)&lt;br /&gt;1/2 tsp mayo&lt;br /&gt;1/2 tsp garlic salt&lt;br /&gt;1 cup crabmeat&lt;br /&gt;1/2 tsp seasoning salt&lt;br /&gt;6 English muffins split in half&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soften butter and cheese to room temp.&lt;br /&gt;Mix other ingredients&lt;br /&gt;then add crabmeat (I usually use fresh crab from Pawleys, but you can use canned crab)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spread on muffin half. Put on cookie sheet. Freeze. Then put in freezer bags and freeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When ready to use, cut each muffin half into 6-8 pieces and broil until bubbly&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-7945642355359022668?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='text/html' href='http://onceuponacupcake.blogspot.com/2008/05/more-football-cupcakes.html' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7945642355359022668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=7945642355359022668' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7945642355359022668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7945642355359022668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/12/carolinaclemson-game.html' title='Carolina/Clemson Game'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/STU_aCnbSMI/AAAAAAAAASA/WtHW6pH49uI/s72-c/cupcakes+2.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-3004869807402771876</id><published>2008-11-28T08:42:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T08:54:38.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why is it Called Black Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SS_3blCo-1I/AAAAAAAAARo/3vU6NT4ZXKc/s1600-h/Black+Friday+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 118px; height: 134px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SS_3blCo-1I/AAAAAAAAARo/3vU6NT4ZXKc/s200/Black+Friday+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273705741845855058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SS_2ZARen_I/AAAAAAAAARg/sUZn4AVh_vQ/s1600-h/Black+Friday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 135px; height: 124px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SS_2ZARen_I/AAAAAAAAARg/sUZn4AVh_vQ/s200/Black+Friday.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273704598104612850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black Friday is to a shopoholic as a bar is to an alcoholic.  It is the greatest day of the year, but why on earth did I not take this day off.  I have to sit at my desk and dream of all of the shopping that could be done.  I really wanted to know where the term Black Friday came from.  I found the article on the internet about Black http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27944629&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-3004869807402771876?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3004869807402771876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=3004869807402771876' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3004869807402771876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3004869807402771876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/why-is-it-called-black-friday.html' title='Why is it Called Black Friday'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SS_3blCo-1I/AAAAAAAAARo/3vU6NT4ZXKc/s72-c/Black+Friday+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1040424047249830609</id><published>2008-11-25T08:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T08:47:47.282-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Top Dog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SSwB6twqNII/AAAAAAAAARY/HsUI98YCW4Y/s1600-h/miama+and+ella%27s+birthday+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SSwB6twqNII/AAAAAAAAARY/HsUI98YCW4Y/s200/miama+and+ella%27s+birthday+008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272591371971736706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella is now famous!  She is going to be published in &lt;a href="http://www.carolinabarkmedia.com/"&gt;Carolina Bark&lt;/a&gt; magazine as the Top Dog of the month!!!  This was a picture of her at the dog bar at her 2nd birthday party.  Yes they have cakes, ice cream and everything else imaginable to treat your dog as a human child.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1040424047249830609?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1040424047249830609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1040424047249830609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1040424047249830609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1040424047249830609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/top-dog.html' title='Top Dog'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SSwB6twqNII/AAAAAAAAARY/HsUI98YCW4Y/s72-c/miama+and+ella%27s+birthday+008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-9185766042402219930</id><published>2008-11-24T15:09:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T15:19:32.019-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All Bruised Up with Somewhere to Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SSsMLHeWfdI/AAAAAAAAARQ/xeBtZSIc5C0/s1600-h/falling+down.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SSsMLHeWfdI/AAAAAAAAARQ/xeBtZSIc5C0/s200/falling+down.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272321173891743186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was excited about my semi vacation/anniversary weekend and wanted to do some last minute shopping (which is always a must before any trip). I wanted to look good for the weekend so I went to a lingerie store to get some new duds. Well my shopping took longer than expected which it always does and I was rushing to get back so I could pack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was running out of a gas station and literally fell flat on my face. My hand was banged up and I had a huge welt on my knee. I thought I broke my ankle. So much for my new sexy duds, they do not match my scabbed up bruised knee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-9185766042402219930?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/9185766042402219930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=9185766042402219930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/9185766042402219930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/9185766042402219930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/all-bruised-up-with-somewhere-to-go.html' title='All Bruised Up with Somewhere to Go'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SSsMLHeWfdI/AAAAAAAAARQ/xeBtZSIc5C0/s72-c/falling+down.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-2778509682545083065</id><published>2008-11-19T20:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T20:54:03.244-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Anniversary</title><content type='html'>When I first started this blog, I was single and talked about my misfits as a clumsy girl surrounded by friends who were in a different stage in life.  I was always a little behind, not that in intellegence, but I did not want to settle down.  I was working in the city while they were staying at home raising children.  I still do not want to settle down, but here I am coming up on a year with the same guy. I did not think we would make football season since he is a Clemson fan.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always been skeptical of my friends that say everything is great.  They never fight with their boyfriends, now husbands, and everything is so easy.  It's not easy and I wonder who are they lying to.  Relationships are tough and no matter how much you care about the other person, you have to grow, learn and work on things all the time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I a face a new first in life, I have never dated a guy for a year straight.  I dated a guy in college for 3 years off and on, but in college who know when your "anniversary" is?  Was it the seventies mixer? You know things were a blur then.  I also dated a guy off and on for another 3 years.  I could never tell when we were off or on so hell if I knew when an anniversary was.  So what do people do on an anniversary?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to think about this and googled it to see what others said.  Well one good gift would be a picture.  Now I have done this but then my single skeptical guard comes up.  Do you actually think a guy is happy to receive a picture of you?  Thanks, but I can not see a guy giving a girl a picture of them.  Also I read several stories about girls who gave their boyfriend a present such as romantic oils, massage lotians etc. hoping for a night of romance and did not get anything in return.  Wait this is what is going to happen to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that Valentine's Day, Anniversary's etc. are times that women look forward to their boyfriend/husband doing something romantic.  I think that women who have boyfriends/husbands that never do anything romantic really look forward to this time. I came to the conclusion that you have to get over it.  If a guy has no romantic bone, this is not going to change.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate to admit it but I am one of those people that wants the works.  I am trying to learn to not do this, but it is hard.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My anniversary is the Carolina/Clemson game which was our first date.  Funny also how when you first start dating someone it's a little different.  For example, I would not go out with him since he was a Clemson fan and he said he was actually going to pull for the Gamecocks because he hated Tommy Bowden.  Now Tommy's gone and this season I will say he definately did not pull for the Cocks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-2778509682545083065?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2778509682545083065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=2778509682545083065' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2778509682545083065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2778509682545083065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/anniversary.html' title='Anniversary'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-2003558318629851460</id><published>2008-11-19T15:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T12:50:08.085-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Party On My Mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SSrpSWAELiI/AAAAAAAAARI/swnR9W70zxo/s1600-h/8-26-2008+105.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SSrpSWAELiI/AAAAAAAAARI/swnR9W70zxo/s200/8-26-2008+105.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272282815143357986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sitting at my desk at work covered in glitter.  I have been wanting to throw a party for a long time and since it is getting close to the party season, I decided to get together an Office Holiday Party.  When it comes to throwing a party I go overboard.  We are having it at my manager's house so I stepped up and started to plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out today and bought invitations and was going to decorate them real fast.  That did not happen.  I got the glue stick out and glitter, which I am so messy I should be banned from it, and now my desk is sparkling up the whole office.  Yes I am a manager so as my busy employees are working, they see me tying ribbons.  I better stop, but I can not help this craft kick that I have been under.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-2003558318629851460?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2003558318629851460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=2003558318629851460' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2003558318629851460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2003558318629851460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/party-on-my-mind.html' title='Party On My Mind'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SSrpSWAELiI/AAAAAAAAARI/swnR9W70zxo/s72-c/8-26-2008+105.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-8460081171758215711</id><published>2008-11-18T23:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T08:09:08.173-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Electronics and Anne Do Not Mix</title><content type='html'>So one reason why I went so long from posting blogs was because I was without a computer.  Well I have one at work and I already got in trouble for blogging at work.  That leave me with my iphone.  Okay well without a phone.  Is there anyone who has possible been through 5 Iphones in a year?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see I dropped one in the toilet at a Panther's game.  I dropped another in the bathtup.  I am not quite sure what happened to the other two.  So your Iphone is linked to ITunes and both my phone and computer crashed.  I did not know my computer crashed and so when they asked at the apple store if everything was backed up to my computer at home before they erased everything, I said no problem.  I got home and then could not restore my phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had people over at this time and we were going to play Guitar Hero.  I have never played it and when we did the guitar was broken.  Someone said everything Anne touches breaks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't that the truth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-8460081171758215711?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8460081171758215711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=8460081171758215711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8460081171758215711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8460081171758215711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/electronics-and-anne-do-not-mix.html' title='Electronics and Anne Do Not Mix'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-4943298147152515045</id><published>2008-11-17T08:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T09:49:05.703-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blunders'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drinking'/><title type='text'>Bleach and a Clumsy Girl Is Not A Good Idea</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SSFuHAnz1XI/AAAAAAAAAPw/PlFwHJtxLmA/s1600-h/wine+away.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 66px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SSFuHAnz1XI/AAAAAAAAAPw/PlFwHJtxLmA/s200/wine+away.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269614105705305458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a favorite white coat that was soiled in red wine.  Yes another blunder.  I knocked over a glass of red wine on a white coat.  That is why I usually do not choose to drink it.  Way too clumsy.  So since the coat was ruined, I thought I would get some bleach which I have never done.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put the coat in the washer and went on doing my other projects.  I am in project mode now.  I heard a big thump and went to the laundry room.  All over the floor was the bottle of bleach and my silk pillow cover.  Bleach and silk I found out do not mix.  It ate it up which was sort of cool but not when it is something of yours.  It worked though and my coat even though it is wearable now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used bleach because I ran out of wine away This is by far a miracle product for any lush girl who loves her red wine.  It does the trick to get out the stain.  You must have it on hand.  &lt;a href="http://www.wineaway.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-4943298147152515045?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/4943298147152515045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=4943298147152515045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4943298147152515045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4943298147152515045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/bleach-and-clumsy-girl-is-not-good-idea.html' title='Bleach and a Clumsy Girl Is Not A Good Idea'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SSFuHAnz1XI/AAAAAAAAAPw/PlFwHJtxLmA/s72-c/wine+away.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-7069241518423836466</id><published>2008-11-17T07:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T09:49:56.112-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sports'/><title type='text'>What Are You Staring At.  A Story of Cocks and my Cousin</title><content type='html'>This happened to my cousin but it is so an Anne Misadventure.  Something I would totally do.  My cousin was at a sports bar last week for lunch and at the restaurant/bar they were broadcasting a sports radio show.  Her instincts took over when she heard them mention the Gamecocks and their thoughts on the game with Florida.  She could barely hear with all of the noise so she was staring at trying to make out what they said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She heard what they said next.  They said "there is some girl staring at me."  Great now she seemed like a stalker/psycho.  She told them she (like me) is a huge Gamecock fan and wanted to know what they were saying about the game.  There response, "there is something special about a girl who likes Cocks."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-7069241518423836466?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7069241518423836466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=7069241518423836466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7069241518423836466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7069241518423836466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-are-you-staring-at-story-of-cocks.html' title='What Are You Staring At.  A Story of Cocks and my Cousin'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-8625734259514637373</id><published>2008-11-16T10:56:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T09:50:07.788-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sports'/><title type='text'>What a Fan I Am</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SSBFaQ0AIuI/AAAAAAAAAPY/dx1rdBbWUxI/s1600-h/spurrier.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 142px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SSBFaQ0AIuI/AAAAAAAAAPY/dx1rdBbWUxI/s200/spurrier.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269287881515475682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been bummed because the Gamecocks got crushed by Florida yesterday.  They say Gamecock fans are the best fans because year after year even when we lose, the fans come out with hopes that this is the year.  I felt that BEFORE the game.  I actually thought, maybe just maybe we can have an upset.  It was a terrible game.  I just was amazed not at how good Florida was, which they are, but how bad we beat ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is one thing to lose a game when you are outplayed.  Granted we were outplayed also, but it would have been a lot closer maybe only a couple of touchdowns, if our offensive did not give the ball to Florida.  I am shocked by the turnovers and I don't know what to say.  Florida had some great plays but I was too busy watching with by jaw open at our mistakes.  I could not watch and had to turn the channel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess I am not as good of a fan as I thought.  It was just ugly.  Todd Ellis and Tommy Suggs were having a hard time trying to find something good to say.  Our defense was doing okay the first half.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing about a Gamecock fan is that we always move on.  Look for the next game or next year.  Now we need to concentrate on Clemson and just crush them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-8625734259514637373?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8625734259514637373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=8625734259514637373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8625734259514637373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8625734259514637373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-fan-i-am.html' title='What a Fan I Am'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SSBFaQ0AIuI/AAAAAAAAAPY/dx1rdBbWUxI/s72-c/spurrier.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-408599447429572678</id><published>2008-11-14T16:23:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T09:50:40.268-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Things to Ponder'/><title type='text'>Blogger World</title><content type='html'>I feel like I am lost in translation.  I am way behind in the blogger world.  There are so many blogs that I am utterly confused.  I guess everyone has something to say.  Then there are blogs that are all creative and I think how can they spend so much time doing that?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been thinking a lot about words lately.  When someone says something to me, I believe it. Now I have grown up some because I used to believe EVERYTHING.  Someone would say something about politics and I believed it.  I now get my own information and I am not as bad as I used to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-408599447429572678?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/408599447429572678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=408599447429572678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/408599447429572678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/408599447429572678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/blogger-world.html' title='Blogger World'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-5954409637689129039</id><published>2008-10-27T07:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T09:51:05.553-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reflections of Anne'/><title type='text'>If it's not broken, don't try and fix it</title><content type='html'>It has been a long time since I have written a blog due to two reasons.  The first is that I can no longer write while I am at work.  Which is understandable.  The second reason is something I am ashamed of.  Someone made a comment about my blog writing and so I stopped doing it.  It was not about my writing but about me.  I let what someone else said make me stop doing one of the things I liked the most.  And for that I am ashamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of months ago, I spoke to someone who has known me for a very long time, he was shocked at the person I have become.  Something inside of me was no longer there.  I feel like the past year I have concentrated on everything bad or what I need to improve on that I somehow lost all the things that were good about me.  I was trying to please someone else and not myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not the same person as I was last year.  Last Wednesday I had people over for a "game night."  That night my old self came out and I realized that I miss the fun Anne.  Everyone had fun and people even said something about how it was good to see me back to my old self.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I learned the lesson of not trying to fix something that was not broken.  I have been trying to fix something about myself that was fine to begin with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-5954409637689129039?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/5954409637689129039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=5954409637689129039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/5954409637689129039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/5954409637689129039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/10/if-its-not-broken-dont-try-and-fix-it.html' title='If it&apos;s not broken, don&apos;t try and fix it'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-4416809675053088355</id><published>2008-08-14T16:56:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T09:51:29.622-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dogs Ella'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Dogs on my mind (The Blue Dogs)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SKSgzC0JhCI/AAAAAAAAAOc/Th0zcOD1FF4/s1600-h/EMMA%27S+ELLA+PHOTO+083.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SKSgzC0JhCI/AAAAAAAAAOc/Th0zcOD1FF4/s200/EMMA%27S+ELLA+PHOTO+083.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234485465700729890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SKSgsTN2n1I/AAAAAAAAAOU/zgT-jas4NXU/s1600-h/EMMA%27S+ELLA+PHOTO+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SKSgsTN2n1I/AAAAAAAAAOU/zgT-jas4NXU/s200/EMMA%27S+ELLA+PHOTO+045.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234485349844426578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SKSgYzVbY1I/AAAAAAAAAOM/p4BlHZKHry0/s1600-h/EMMA%27S+ELLA+PHOTO+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SKSgYzVbY1I/AAAAAAAAAOM/p4BlHZKHry0/s200/EMMA%27S+ELLA+PHOTO+001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234485014868747090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so excited!!! I have not been writing any blogs because basically I have been zoned into staying at home and working on house projects. Not very fun!! But tonight I am coming out from hibernation to see my favorite local band. The Blue Dogs!!! We have bands play downtown every Thursday night and when I heard the Blue Dogs were this weeks entertainment, my mind started to be filled with excitement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Blue Dogs, the band from Charleston that I have listened to since College. The band I would love play if I ever get married. The band that takes me back to Charleston and which gives me comfort. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am putting on my going out clothes and making some poor soul come join me to go see them. I am sure that most people there are the same crowd every Thursday socializing etc, and not really there for the band, but that does not matter. The Blue Dogs, they make me feel relaxed and that is something hard for me. I used to be laid back but recently I am feeling that care free attitude has disappeared. So a breathe of fresh air has stirred up some excitement and snapped me back to remembering the things and the attitude I love most about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A side note- I had my dog photographed. I treat my dog like she is my baby. I know it is sad, but since I have no children of my own she is a big part of my life. I know I go overboard with daycare, going to the dog bar and having someone professionally photographing her, but I don't care. I am how I am. So I wanted to share some photo's of my dog Ella. I had my nephews come so I could have some pictures of them also and feel a little better about having a professional photographer come take pictures of a dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-4416809675053088355?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/4416809675053088355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=4416809675053088355' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4416809675053088355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4416809675053088355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/08/dogs-on-my-mind-blue-dogs.html' title='Dogs on my mind (The Blue Dogs)'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SKSgzC0JhCI/AAAAAAAAAOc/Th0zcOD1FF4/s72-c/EMMA%27S+ELLA+PHOTO+083.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-8193030332251123549</id><published>2008-08-05T17:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T09:51:42.468-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>A New Found Respect for Parents</title><content type='html'>I do not have any children.  I am a single 31 year old that is trying to grow up herself.  I still depend on my mom for things, which is sad for someone at my age.  My dog is like a child to me.  A dog is no where near the amount of responsiblility of having a child, yet I struggle with it sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has made me worry because if I have a hard time raising a dog, I would be no where ready for a child.  I recently was sick for the past week and had to be in bed all day.  Well the world does not stop when you are sick and my dog still needed to be taking care of.  How can I walk the dog when I can't get out of bed?  I have a roommate that helped but I got really upset because I wondered how parents do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom used to tell me mothers do not get sick.  No matter what, if there child was sick or needed something, they still have to be taking care of.  I am a worrier and I was scared one night when I was sick that something was wrong with my dog.  I called my sister for advice because I did not know what to do.  Should I take her to an emergency vet?  Well part of me felt there was no way, because I could not get out of bed myself.  I then wondered, when you have a child, you overcome whatever in order to help the child.  I could not do this. Does that mean I will be a terrible mom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister said you can not worry all the time and she will be okay until the morning and it is hard when you have a child because they can not tell you what to do but somehow you know.  How does she take care of a sick child when she has a fever of 104?  Luckily I have a mother that helps her and her husband when he is in town, but I don't know how she does it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am lucky because I have a family to support me.  Even with my dog my mom would have helped.  I asked her how on earth she handles all of this.  She said, "when your child looks at you and says you are the most beautiful thing and they love you, nothing else matters."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-8193030332251123549?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8193030332251123549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=8193030332251123549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8193030332251123549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8193030332251123549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-found-respect-for-parents.html' title='A New Found Respect for Parents'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-8210107107296830356</id><published>2008-07-17T22:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T09:51:56.995-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Things to Ponder'/><title type='text'>what to do</title><content type='html'>I have an iphone and have been in widget heaven. There is everything possible available at the palm of your hand. I have been in an organization kick so I downloaded all of these reminders,to do lists, shopping lists, voice recorders etc. to help me remember things.  Now I am in a dilema, I just need to remember what which place I put that important thing to not forget is?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-8210107107296830356?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8210107107296830356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=8210107107296830356' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8210107107296830356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8210107107296830356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/07/what-to-do.html' title='what to do'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-4023985017299599195</id><published>2008-07-10T14:46:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T09:52:05.917-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Concerts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SHZZTHHuYJI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Q4gKs9DLfCk/s1600-h/Pearl+Jam+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SHZZTHHuYJI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Q4gKs9DLfCk/s200/Pearl+Jam+002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221459002846503058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer is always the time for concerts. There is no way to top a concert outdoors on a beautiful day. This summer I went to two concerts and they were complete opposites. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pearl Jam-&lt;br /&gt;I was so excited when I found out that Pearl Jam was coming to Columbia. It brought back old days of Black, Betterman, etc. and could not believe I had the opportunity to go with a group of people. I got hooked up and my boyfriend along with some others got a suite where we could bring our own alcohol etc. It was supposed to be near the stage but later we found out it was far from it. I listened to my old CD's and went back in time when I was in high school. You know the age of grunge and Kate Moss waifs. Looking back it was not a good fashion era, but it was right before the age of cell phones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was ready!!! It turned out that the suite was the farthest thing from the stage. You could barely see the stage and the band. You could go outside the suite to seats that were below the top level. Cool but not cool for a concert. The acoustics were terrible because of the overhang. They only played 2 songs I recognized and I was a pearl jam fan. I had several CD's and knew quite a few of songs that were not just on the first album. Well I don't know where these songs came from and you really good not get a good impression with the sound system making it hard to hear clearly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was bummed, I was ready to jam out and they played nothing people recognized at all. Then Eddie gets all political which I expected, but overall it was a let down. I am glad I got to see them because I used to dream about getting to see them about 15 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave Matthews Band-&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who has read my blog before knows my obsession with the Dave Matthews Band. Not only do I have every CD but I have multiple copies. I thought I lost one only to buy it again. I know every song and have followed them since I was 16. I don't know how I did this, but before they were small they played in bars. Somehow I got in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually am excited about Dave Matthews but this year it fell on the 4th of July. That is my favorite holiday and it is the only day when all of my family unites. I take my big vacation to the beach this week every year. I have gone to Pawley's on the 4th since I was born and have watched the parade each year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will tell you about my vacation and the parade which I was able to attend since Pawley's is only an hour away from Charleston where he played.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew it was going to be fun because they were playing in a baseball stadium. Concerts are so much fun there and I think this is the biggest band to come. It sold out quickly. The weather was perfect and so was everything else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went with one of my Charleston friends and it turned out that her brother and a lot more people were going. When they play in Charlotte, I feel like the oldest person there, but Charleston was completely different. You could walk on the field and run into people you know. It was a social atmosphere with my favorite band.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave Matthews (unlike Pearl Jam) plays old songs and new but he always has some song anyone would recognize. Jennifer (my friend) stopped listening to them but was pleasantly surprised when the first song they played was from their first album and one of her favorites. The night started out on a good note.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really loved their playlist as always and not surprised that I had a blast. It is Dave Matthews we are talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, I think bands should get the crowd involved which was not the feeling at Pearl Jam. Dave Matthews even sang a Bob Dylan song and Sledgehammer. They know what they are doing and that is why they have had such a large following for so many years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-4023985017299599195?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/4023985017299599195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=4023985017299599195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4023985017299599195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4023985017299599195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/07/concerts.html' title='Concerts'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SHZZTHHuYJI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Q4gKs9DLfCk/s72-c/Pearl+Jam+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-3903321188400370284</id><published>2008-07-10T13:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T14:11:53.494-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summertime How it Flys By</title><content type='html'>I can't believe it has been a month since my last post!  I have been on vacation, gone to a couple of concerts and enjoying the summertime.  There are several things I want to talk about so I will try to have a seperate post for each.  But then I may get sidetracked and a month later I will be saying the same thing.  I hope not because I miss writing and will have to write more often.  The problem is that I can't write at work.  That is usually when I am on my computer, so when I get home I do not want to look at another computer screen.  I hate not being able to write during the day (even though I am now).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the type of person that needs to say what is on my mind immediately or I will forget.  Usually, I will blurt something out or say something while another person is talking.  I am working on that so I am better.  I have to say it or it is lost in my brains La La land.  I really need to try to work on thinking before I speak.  There is no thought process and I just come right out and say it.  Usually it is random thoughts and my cube mates used to wonder where what I said came from.  That was random, but now I think they just tune me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is hard because sometimes what I say is really important but people are used to my rambling and my jumbled up speech that I get tuned out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I just lost my train of thought so I will end this post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-3903321188400370284?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3903321188400370284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=3903321188400370284' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3903321188400370284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3903321188400370284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/07/summertime-how-it-flys-by.html' title='Summertime How it Flys By'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-8791784484322755365</id><published>2008-06-13T14:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T14:46:39.288-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Girls Night Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SFLAhKudM9I/AAAAAAAAAN0/4n16T3pIG-I/s1600-h/suite.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SFLAhKudM9I/AAAAAAAAAN0/4n16T3pIG-I/s200/suite.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211439394868507602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I explained in the previous blog my friend Heather (who is married with a baby) organized a "girls night out" with some girls that were not married.  I was so excited about seeing Heather again and meeting more girls.  I have 2 close friends here and I really need to meet some more people, plus I really missed Heather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were all going to meet on the street and go to this new place that opened (the epicenter) which has on Thursdays bands, drinks etc.  It was my first time there and I heard it was so much fun and the new hotspot.  Yesterday I was upset because I was in the doghouse and feeling pretty rotten.  There was no way I would have fun, I just will go for a drink or two and then go home to sulk.  You know the times you think you will not have fun or stay out late end up being the best times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Molly, who is a friend from work, was on the same page as me and just wanted to go for a little bit.  We met the third girl on the street and all walked together to meet our mutual friend Heather.  She shows up in the cutest dress, cool accessories, and ultra chic.  I could not believe this girl had a baby and was actually the same and looked better than ever.  Immediately my bad mood changed and I felt good being on a rooftop and outside with live music.  Heather sees her old boss and he gave us VIP passes so we could go to this area and drink for free.  This man was great and very ADDish or high energy.  He grabbed Heather danced around and was all over the place.  He shagged with Molly and overall everyone was singing, dancing, just carefree and he made everyone have a ball.  But this is girls night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another one of my friends met us and it was just fun.  I ended up meeting two cute girls that I hopefully will see again.  So girls night also means the single girls are on the prowl for guys.  I mainly was hanging around Heather and her two friends.  One had a boyfriend like me, but our main concern was not boys.  So Molly and my friend Tracy who brought another girl were doing there own thing.  Heather left and things sort of changed.  Molly was talking to some boy and when I went up to Tracy (who was also talking to a boy), she gave me a go away look so what do I do?  I am not interested in boys since I have a boyfriend and even though I was upset and in the doghouse, I am happy.  There is no one else I would rather be with.  So my "girls night" turned into a scene that I did not like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The place got crowded and everyone was talking about going to this new bar Suite that was connected.  The epicenter is cool because it has all of these bars among other things.  As we entered Suite, I felt like I was in New York.  I have never seen so many guys with hair gel in my life.  You could not move and I did not want to dance.  My feet were tired and this place no matter how chic it was just was not my scene.  I got out of there as fast as I could leaving the other girls to fend for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what did I learn on my night out?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Being around Heather makes everything better.  I have a Bridget Jones story that happened to me.  Nothing can compare to this embarrassing moment, but somehow Heather made it funny and I don't know how I did it, but I survived.  I may tell this in a blog but it is too embarrassing so I don't know.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)I learned that there are other girls that are fun to meet and I can be so closed off.  I need to reconnect with old friends and meet new ones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)I don't like the part of being single where you go out to meet boys.  I always was like that even when I did not have a boyfriend.  I would go out with friends and only talk to boys that were friends or someone knew.  I never talked to random boys at bars, I mean ever.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)I can not stay out like I used to.  My feet hurt and my body needed to get home and go to sleep.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)There are a lot of guys in Charlotte but most of them are more concerned with there hair, I mean I have never seen so much hair product in people's hair and that includes girls.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6)I was reminded of how lucky I am to be with the person I date.  Even though there may be issues at times, they seem small when you look at the big picture.  I liked girls night but I also realize that I am an idiot because I have a great guy that makes me happy and I realize that I take that for granted sometimes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-8791784484322755365?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8791784484322755365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=8791784484322755365' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8791784484322755365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8791784484322755365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/06/girls-night-out.html' title='Girls Night Out'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SFLAhKudM9I/AAAAAAAAAN0/4n16T3pIG-I/s72-c/suite.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-2363580702838378522</id><published>2008-06-13T10:18:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T14:01:43.413-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Reconnecting with long lost friends</title><content type='html'>When I first moved to Charlotte there were a group of girls I would do stuff with.  I met them through my best friend in High School and stayed close through college.  They started to get married off and things started to change one by one.  Then came the babies and I am happy for them, my one friend from High School made me feel like I could not relate to her and was pretty much snobby.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started before she got her boyfriend (now husband).  "We just always do stuff with other couples, it is hard because you are single."  That never stopped my college friends from doing things with me.  Then she got married and the same story. It started to come to an end when we went to dinner and she kept talking about her "new best friend" and how they have children the same age and throw the most extravagant parties etc.  I tried to relate and told her that my sister has a group of girlfriends with children that they willl all go to the beach together, cook out etc.  She then told me the same saying "I just never hang out with people who don't have children."  My sister reminded me she still does things with single friends and would never tell someone that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I lost touch with Spencer I lost touch with 2 girls that I really liked.  They always welcomed me and were truely geniune caring people.  So recently I joined Facebook of all things and got reconnected with one of them.  We planned on meeting for a girls night and she had a couple of other single friends she wanted everyone to meet.  This is a long blog but I will start my next one with the "Girls Night Out"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-2363580702838378522?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2363580702838378522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=2363580702838378522' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2363580702838378522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2363580702838378522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/06/reconnecting-with-long-lost-friends.html' title='Reconnecting with long lost friends'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-3864924265189355781</id><published>2008-06-12T12:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T10:10:40.206-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ways to Show Love</title><content type='html'>I think one of my friend's had to answer some questions before they got married and one test was what type of affection is important to you.  I may be leaving one out but basically it was these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Materialistic- buying presents etc.&lt;br /&gt;2) Doing things- mowing the lawn, helping out with stuff like that&lt;br /&gt;3) Words of affection- telling them how much they love the other person etc.&lt;br /&gt;4) Intimacy- basically PDA- hugging, kissing, etc.&lt;br /&gt;5) Time spent together- wanting to do things with the other person&lt;br /&gt;My own which I don't know if it was a choice is thoughtfulness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what type are you or what do you need? I have a friend that recently broke up with her boyfriend.  They have been on again and off for quite some time.  He could never tell her he loved her, but they spent a lot of time together.  Because he never said those things, she believed he did not care that much about her.  This was not the only issue but it was a concern of hers.  So I told her that if he has not been giving her what she wants, then she is better off without him.  You know it is hard to give advice or words of comfort to someone with a broken heart, but somehow she wanted to write down what I said because it was good. So even though people disagree with me but I have always said I give good advice but I don't listen to it when it comes to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think in any relationship the partner should know what is important to them.  It is hard for me to say right now because I have a long distance relationship so I long for spending time together since I don't have that.  I remember taking this test with my girlfriends awhile back and time spent together was one of my top one and the bottom one was doing tasks.  I did not care because I did not own a place, have a yard, or need things to be fixed.  Now that I do, I feel a little different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I disagree with my friend about wanting to hear how much he loves her.  Words are easy and I feel that in order for me to believe how much I am loved, I can not depend on words.  It is a problem that I don't trust things on words alone but maybe it is because I feel the other things are so important. Another thing that is hard because of the long distance relationship is doing things.  I got new furniture and definately needed help with some things, but it is not possible when your boyfriend lives miles away and works.  But I still wanted it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I want materialistic things to show love.  I will say I want a flower but that is a single flower that could be picked in a yard, but the importance of it is that they thought of me.  So is that materialistic?  I got a nice present for my birthday from my boyfriend but the thing that struck me the most was the meaning behind it.  He had asked me a long time ago what was something I have always wanted.  He remembered this and when I got this present it was more than I could imagine, but what struck me is that he remember.  That was extremely thoughtful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess all in all, I think that being thoughtfull, being a good listener, and just wanting to be with you are the most important things to me.  I am just glad I have someone to love.  I will tell you in the next blog about the night out with the girls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-3864924265189355781?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3864924265189355781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=3864924265189355781' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3864924265189355781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3864924265189355781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/06/ways-to-show-love.html' title='Ways to Show Love'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-4056929649515423632</id><published>2008-06-09T16:31:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T17:05:48.676-04:00</updated><title type='text'>River Adventure</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SE2bJiYsZMI/AAAAAAAAANk/MyRt8MgL-wU/s1600-h/river+float+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SE2bJiYsZMI/AAAAAAAAANk/MyRt8MgL-wU/s200/river+float+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209990932089038018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There has been a heat wave and with temperatures reaching over 100 degrees the only way you can bear being outside, is if you get on the water.  I don't know how people survived without air conditioning but I imagine they did similar things to what we do now, hit the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up in Columbia SC and it always seemed like the summers there were terrible.  The concrete city I would describe the place.  I was oblivious that the city actually is surrounded by water, the three rivers.  Someone without a boat or access to a beach house, the only option you have is to get in the river.  That was my big adventure this weekend.  An old fashioned river float.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was my first time in any of the rivers surrounding Columbia but my boyfriend had floated down the river way back in high school.  This outing was a test run.  See exactly what all we need in the future and what to or not to do the next time.  You would think on a test run you would go a short distance, but we put in at the very top so it was a long "test" trip. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anytime I am on the water I want a cold beer.  I hate beer but the only time I will drink it and actually crave a beer is when I am in the water.  For our test run I was told to not worry about a cooler.  That was for the next trip.  We got two pool floats (not exactly the most stable floatation devices).  When we pulled up I knew that we were novices and we might have some trouble.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The feeling I got when I jumped in the cool water and away from the swealtering heat took away any fear I might have had.  This is worth it.  I saw the people tied up drinking and having fun, but I was on the water and that was all that mattered.  I did not think I would make it through the rapids (I was on a pool float), but I survived the first set.  We may actually make it, but if we don't then we were in trouble.  No phone (I wanted to get a dry bag) but I guess that will be for next time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So once I got used to it, I started to notice the natural beauty that was around me.  There really is some beautiful places in Columbia that I never noticed before.  This lasted for a little bit, then I started to wish we had parked a little closer.  The water was not moving fast so we were paddling a lot of the way.  So it got a little old for me and I was really ready to get to the car, but overall it was a nice day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time I will get to have my input and get a sturdy raft for two, where I can just lay back and enjoy my cold beer that I brought in a cooler.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-4056929649515423632?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/4056929649515423632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=4056929649515423632' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4056929649515423632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4056929649515423632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/06/river-adventure.html' title='River Adventure'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SE2bJiYsZMI/AAAAAAAAANk/MyRt8MgL-wU/s72-c/river+float+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-85910181933429546</id><published>2008-05-27T16:02:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T16:34:58.595-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"City of Dreams" Part III</title><content type='html'>I am drawn to music. Some songs remind me of different times in my life while others express words or feelings that I can not state. I changed some CD's in my car and came across one that had the Widespread Panic song "City of Dreams". This song not only brought back a memory but also expressed something I was feeling this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The memory I have with this song is when I saw Widespread in Charlotte with a group of people I was friends with when I first moved here. It was fun in Charlotte with this group. We were all out of college entering the working world trying to make the transition from the college party life to the working world. So Charlotte was fun then and now all of those people I went to see the show with are married and we have lost touch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The feeling of people moving on and losing touch is not new and as you grow your true friends will remain in touch even when they get married, have babies, divorced, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That brings me to my second point. I once wrote about Charleston, moving and how I long to be there. I was thinking that a year ago I was all about moving to Charleston and being on the water, but of course my job and friends here were holding me back. What if it is not that but it is me that is holding myself back. What if I was the one holding myself back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If someone came to me and said I have a great job for you in Charleston, what would I do? I would freak out. I would think, well all of my friends are married in Charleston and even though we are still close, it is not like they can go out for happy hour with a toting a baby. I have become close to some girls in Charlotte and if I moved then what about them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would think that Charleston is where I would want to settle down, if I moved there then what do I have to dream of. I just got my place looking good, and my dog has a great day care etc. So do we all live in a dream world? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to the point that people always say, "you want what you can't have." Someone told me nothing is good enough for me. Maybe, but I have to ask myself am I accepting mediocre if I accept good enough or am I looking at the negative of what I don't have.\&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I met Prince Charming, I would say he is too good and what about that evil step mother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am rambling on but it is scary to accept that things are great because then I feel I am open up for getting hurt or missing out on something else. I have come to the conclusion that I think what I have right now is more than whatever I can dream of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-85910181933429546?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/85910181933429546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=85910181933429546' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/85910181933429546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/85910181933429546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/05/city-of-dreams-part-iii.html' title='&quot;City of Dreams&quot; Part III'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-2661175761948204545</id><published>2008-05-20T23:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T23:57:31.863-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Year Older, Another Year Wiser?</title><content type='html'>Last weekend I celebrated my birthday.  When I turned 30 it was a milestone.  Last year at this time I faced uncertanties and I started this blog.  Al blog of misadventures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at 31 and being much wiser, I don't see my life as a bunch of misadventures, but I see my adventures as being just that: adventures.  Things I tried and failed, things I learned, things I learned I did not like, things I learned I loved, and the things I started to value.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone comes across obsticles or adventures they face.  I know now it is how you handle the things you are faced that makes your character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be the person who would point out my mistakes, make people laugh and say that's who I am and move on.  That was an inmature way to handle things, but I thought it age people a laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was always freaked out about formalities.  You need to grow up, get married, act a certain way, blah blah blah.  So I did things my own way.  I think I learned my way may not be the end all know all.  I am my own person and I always will be, but I am seeing beyone that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I think I learned a great deal this year so I am going to end this post and being a series of what I have learned this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I don't want to be Miss. Grace, but be more like Grace Kelly.  To handle things with grace, be someone with value and to give people a sense of comfort.  To be the one to make people feel welcome and comfortable even at places or times when I may not have been.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-2661175761948204545?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2661175761948204545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=2661175761948204545' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2661175761948204545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2661175761948204545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/05/another-year-older-another-year-wiser.html' title='Another Year Older, Another Year Wiser?'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1330085149526269807</id><published>2008-05-08T22:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T22:11:10.361-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Mom</title><content type='html'>Do you remember the part of the movie Mr. Mom when he puts to much detergent in the washing machine and the bubbles overflow.  That does not happen just in the movies.  I bought something that said dish something, well it wasn't detergent.  It was soap.  Now I am mopping up suds off my kitchen floor, trying to figure out how to make the bubbles stop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1330085149526269807?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1330085149526269807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1330085149526269807' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1330085149526269807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1330085149526269807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/05/mr-mom.html' title='Mr. Mom'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1031052264629945578</id><published>2008-05-08T08:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T09:05:54.438-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dreaded Gym</title><content type='html'>I have always had a fear of the gym.  I don't know why but something about being around all those people that know what they are doing and me standing around looking like an idiot.  I still think I am okay because I used to play sports in high school.  Well now I'm in my 30's and it is time for me to get off my lazy behind and workout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess my fear started in college.  I went to a gym to try it out with a friend.  You know when they show you a tour and get you on some equipment.  I got on something maybe a treadmill and the guy freaked out.  You need to stop right now and get some water your heart rate is too high you might faint or something like that.  He made me get some water and that was it for that gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I joined a gym 4 years ago and said I would just use the treadmill.  Again the guy saw my heartrate and made me slow down.  I hated going, getting a locker with all of these gymoholics.  No not for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I signed up with a personal trainer.  This is a small place where you are basically the only one in there, maybe another person.  So I was freaking out yesterday with some co workers about what to wear.  They laughed at me and said just wear a tee shirt and thought I was crazy because I was so concerned with my outfit for working out.  They did not know they were dealing with (the misfit Anne)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have tennis clothes but no shorts or shirts.  I had bought some things last week (shopoholic Anne)since I thought I needed something.  I actually held back from the usual slurge because last time I bought all of the tennis clothes that are just taking up space in a lonely drawer.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to pack quick because I was in a hury never trying on the things I bought.  So I changed at the place.  Oh no this is not happening.  The shirt was skin tight and barely covered my stomach.  My stomach is something I don't want anyone to see.  So I emerged from the bathroom wearing I white tank top showing my rippled stomach and was mortified.  I am not exagerating this time.  I don't think the skinnist person could wear a skin tight tank top.  What was I thinking.  So now I have a reason to go shop for some t-shirts and shorts.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's hope the exercise thing works out.  It is hard with everything else I have after work but I am going to try it out.  I have to, I paid for 25 sessions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1031052264629945578?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1031052264629945578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1031052264629945578' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1031052264629945578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1031052264629945578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/05/dreaded-gym.html' title='The Dreaded Gym'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-3765446166677334182</id><published>2008-05-02T14:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T14:53:22.890-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Miami</title><content type='html'>I have not talked about this but I went on a trip to Miami with my mom.  Not the first person you would think would be fun to take to Miami.  She is not the nightclub type of person.  She really did not even like going to the pool, but I enjoyed the trip.  I am close to my mom so we had some good bonding time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip was short because it was just for the weekend.  Spent way too much money for such a short period of time.  The reason for this trip was because I had been wanting to go somewhere in the carribean.  Sure a lot of people do, but I had talked about it with my boyfriend.  He actually brought it up so that was a big mistake.  Once something is in my head it is hard to get the idea out.  So we talked about going somewhere for my birthday. Even though he said we were going he had made no plans and I had a feeling he really did not want to.  So I had my own trip without him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It still isn't my birthday but I learned from my short trip that to really enjoy a place you need to have a lot of time there to relax.  The idea is nice but in reality you don't get these vacations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am going to my beloved Charleston and Pawley's.  Pawley's Island the place I think there is nowhere else that can compare to it and Charleston the city where I long to live.  Many people have said they have been to many places and Pawley's is their favorite.  It is to me also.  My mom and stepdad will be there and I am meeting my dad.  We are going to leave Pawley's to be with my sister and her husband for my birthday dinner.  Perfect I will be with all the people I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the moral of the story is, there is no place like home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-3765446166677334182?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3765446166677334182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=3765446166677334182' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3765446166677334182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3765446166677334182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/05/miami.html' title='Miami'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-4768354210614780752</id><published>2008-05-02T14:26:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T14:39:38.298-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oops I did it Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SBtf5Qo3MXI/AAAAAAAAANE/rrn_Hk-J77A/s1600-h/dress+blowup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SBtf5Qo3MXI/AAAAAAAAANE/rrn_Hk-J77A/s200/dress+blowup.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195852032425537906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I have been writing so many serious blogs I wanted to talk about a blunder today.  I wore a dress to work and it is flowy.  I did not think it was too short.  I still do the test that I did in high school to see if something is too short.  When you stand with your arms down, your skirt could not be shorter than your fingertips.  So this dress was not that short it passed the test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I did not realize until it was brought to my attention, that when you bend over it becomes a lot shorter.  So I guess my whole office has seen who know what.  Another day in the life of Anne.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-4768354210614780752?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/4768354210614780752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=4768354210614780752' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4768354210614780752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4768354210614780752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/05/oops-i-did-it-again.html' title='Oops I did it Again'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SBtf5Qo3MXI/AAAAAAAAANE/rrn_Hk-J77A/s72-c/dress+blowup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-537437173634637141</id><published>2008-04-25T16:55:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T10:26:05.420-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let Me Speak My Mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SBJFhAo3MWI/AAAAAAAAAM8/3ZQastaQ-wM/s1600-h/Mary+karen%27s+wedding.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SBJFhAo3MWI/AAAAAAAAAM8/3ZQastaQ-wM/s400/Mary+karen%27s+wedding.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193289753720992098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jud has mentioned that he hopes I find inner peace.  Well I think one reason why I have not had that is because I was trying to be someone I am not.  I wanted to be someone that is just not me.  Even though I have grown up a little bit, but I am still the disorganized, spontaneous, worrier, over analytical Anne.  It feels so good to say it.  My mom pointed out that she can see a difference in me and I act a little more grown up.  She likes it.  But what people don't see is me trying to behave or act a certain way that just isn't myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the uneasy feeling has emerged and now I feel like I lost touch with who I was.  One of my college friends got married at the beach last weekend so all of my close girlfriends were there.  This group of girls have always been real close and remained friends for over 10 years.  One of my best friends (who recently asked me to be her first born child's Godmother!!) said that I was not myself.  She said I abrubtly left (I never leave a party early) and did not really tell anyone bye.  Then other people recently have been saying stuff like that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I have been on auto pilot and I finally want to speak.  It feels great. I feel like I have been hushed and it is time for me to come back to who I once was.  There are things I am learning to notice about myself that I don't like, but the things I do like about who I was are far superior.  Being asked to be a mother's first born son's Godmother.  She said I was always there for her and she knows I will be for son.  I guess I wasn't as irresponsible as I thought.  To have a friend so close is a great honor.  To be friends with the same group of girls for over 10 years and remain close says something about committment.  I may hurt my friends at times but they liked me for all these years for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my family.  I am very close to my mother, sister and nephews. I am very lucky to have family that is always there for you and loves you unconditionally.  When my first nephew was born I realized what unconditional love is.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A relationship can only be successful and meaningful if the other person loves you for who you are not what you could be.  I had a friend tell me recently that "you know you can be selfish, you understand that you can not always get what you want, you know you can want a lot of things, but you also know that I still love you."  And I did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-537437173634637141?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/537437173634637141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=537437173634637141' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/537437173634637141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/537437173634637141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/04/let-me-speak-my-mind.html' title='Let Me Speak My Mind'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SBJFhAo3MWI/AAAAAAAAAM8/3ZQastaQ-wM/s72-c/Mary+karen%27s+wedding.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1737855208938345785</id><published>2008-04-23T08:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T14:35:55.532-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ella's Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SA9_2go3MVI/AAAAAAAAAM0/myHtJbJDHBE/s1600-h/miama+and+ella%27s+birthday+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SA9_2go3MVI/AAAAAAAAAM0/myHtJbJDHBE/s200/miama+and+ella%27s+birthday+013.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192509469832458578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SA8w9Qo3MUI/AAAAAAAAAMs/I_Rp9MPLhoU/s1600-h/miama+and+ella%27s+birthday+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SA8w9Qo3MUI/AAAAAAAAAMs/I_Rp9MPLhoU/s200/miama+and+ella%27s+birthday+008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192422724377981250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I have gone crazy.  I had a birthday party for my dog complete with a cake at "pawty favors" for her guests.  Am I becoming the old women that lives at home by herself with her animals?  I don't think it is that bad it was just a reason for me to get people out and drink at a dogbar.  I had a good time and that was the point.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A girl that works with me has a dog like mine so she came to the party.  We have something called Alive After 5 which is every Thursday uptown.  People meet after work to drink and listen to a different band every week.  She took her dog and said it was crazy how many guys came up to her.  A dog is like a magnet.  Some guys stole her dog and had at least 6 different groups of girls approach them in a short period of time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I use the dog to be social, then I guess I am not becoming an old lady alone by herself.  Instead I am a girl using her dog as an excuse to get out and drink.  You can tell my dog is like me by the picure of her passed out in front of a drink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1737855208938345785?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1737855208938345785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1737855208938345785' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1737855208938345785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1737855208938345785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/04/ella.html' title='Ella&apos;s Birthday'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/SA9_2go3MVI/AAAAAAAAAM0/myHtJbJDHBE/s72-c/miama+and+ella%27s+birthday+013.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1878608042881188426</id><published>2008-04-02T10:09:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T22:03:27.855-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Givers and Takers Part II</title><content type='html'>After being upset and thinking all kinds of negative thoughts, I realized I was the one letting this happen.  No one can take a feeling away from you unless you let them.  I have said many hurtfull things to people and even though I felt bad about it, sometimes I did it because I felt bad about myself.  So I started feeling sorry for the people that are angry, spiteful and negative.  These people are toxic.  But they are only toxic if you let them be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have fought back tried to say things to prove my point or make them feel differently, but you can't.  That is creating more problems.  I realized that I know what is special to me and who the person I am.  I am not going to brag about my accomplishments and when I say all of my mishaps it is just to joke on myself.  I am happy with who I am and who the person I am developing into.  I still am far from perfect.  No one is but at least I am striving to becoming a better person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been negative for a large part of my life.  It did not work, it just made me unhappy.  I have let people take advantage of me and then felt that it was my fault.  People say you have to set boundaries and if someone disrespects you then you have to step up and tell them to back off.  I think people learn things in their own time.  I have had co-qorkers, friends, relationships, that have all at one point or another have said hurtful things.  When one person is negative it brings other people down along with them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to be strong enough and patient enough not to let these people strike a nerve in me.  I remember one time someone said I could not pass some test for my job.  It irritated me and made me want to pass just to prove that person was wrong.  I don't even know if the guy knew I passed, but I did things the wrong way.  I need to do things for me and not prove anything to someone else.  I am trying to figure out who I am and I am starting to like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1878608042881188426?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1878608042881188426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1878608042881188426' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1878608042881188426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1878608042881188426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/04/givers-and-takers-part-ii.html' title='Givers and Takers Part II'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-8804698584721324306</id><published>2008-03-27T16:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T10:20:27.435-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fishing With My Uncle</title><content type='html'>Oh how I love the beach. As you can tell by all the pictures of Pawley's Island on my blog. It is my favorite place in the world, my sanctuary. It is where my mother grew up when she was young, but her parents died when she was 14. It is where I go to connect with the past. My mother is real close with her brother. It is a special connection because of their parents dying at such a young age. When they are together you can feel and see the closeness between them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My uncle is a legend at the beach. I am so proud to be his niece because not only is he a special person, but he knows fishing. The saltwater is in my blood. My grandfather fished with his son (my uncle). My uncle told me a story about how they were fishing together when he was young and my grandfather caught an eel and said "son of a bitch." When my uncle caught an eel later he said, "look daddy I caught a son of a bitch too! He was then told not to tell his mom what he caught.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this love of the water was passed down to me. My uncle will take me fishing and showed me the ropes. I remember when I was real young, you will need to tell the the difference between and flounder bite and a crab. He doesn't do anything for you. He showed me how to clean a fish, bait a hook, find the minnows, etc. I was talking to my cousin (daughter of my uncle) and she said he mom told her to play dumb when she meets a guy. Guys like to feel like they know what they are doing but Katie (my cousin) knows more than most people. She said I will not ask a guy "can you bait my hook?" It's just not how we are. Pretty much you would never know I make bait balls with fish meal, dehead shrimp that we just caught, cook crabs and clean them, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My uncle takes me fishing so it is just us. I learn a lot on those trips and not just about fishing. He does not do this for my sister, I think my sister did not inherit this love. So I planned a fishing trip with my uncle way in advance because I wanted to learn more about my mother and grandparents, stories that should not get lost through the years. I want my children to know these stories and pass them down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went shad fishing. It was my first time and even though I don't like fresh water fishing, I really enjoyed this. We were fishing for row, female shad that are pregnant, it is the spawning season. I have never had it, but shad row is a delicacy. I am picky about what I eat and even though I catch things in the ocean, I don't really eat much seafood. It was great. My uncle with his hat that said, "shut up and fish" and the weather was beautiful. He let me reel up the fish and helped me learn not to get to excited when the fish gets near the boat, that is where people lose fish the most. It is like a game, the rod and the fish. So now I know the secret about shad, they only will bite citronella lures. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousin was telling me there is a secret fishing club that has a flounder fishing tournament each year. Many people want to be in this club but it is not possible. I did not know about this club but my uncle was one of the first members. He is always on the creek. She was at a restaurant/bar having drinks with her dad and she saw someone she knew and went to talk to him. He asked if that was her dad and quickly asked if he could please meet him. He is a legend like I said. No one quite like him, He knows things about fishing that goes by nature. Such as the flounder do not bite until the dogwoods bloom. The brown shrimp leaves the creek after the first full moon in July. He tells me fishing is a cycle. You use crabs to bait the minnow traps, the minnows are used to catch the fish, the bones of the fish are put in the minnow trab to catch the crabs. He lives off of the water, never buying minnows, the only fish he will buy that could be caught is grouper. He said he will sometimes buy it, but other than that it is the fish he catches that is dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last weekend was a huge success ans I am going back this weekend to show my boyfriend the ropes. He think he knows but he has never been around a member of my family fishing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-8804698584721324306?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8804698584721324306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=8804698584721324306' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8804698584721324306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8804698584721324306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/03/fishing-with-my-uncle.html' title='Fishing With My Uncle'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-2897875335701803647</id><published>2008-03-20T21:03:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T16:24:48.404-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Don't You Be Honest</title><content type='html'>I have always thought I was a truthful person.  I can't lie and have always felt that telling the truth was the best quality I have.  Someone said to me today that I need to be honest.  Me honest, I always tell the truth I thought.  Well I tell the truth but sometimes I am not honest about how I feel or what I think.  Deep down I think I am but thinking about this comment, I have to admit sometimes I don't tell everything.  I have to keep some emotions to myself because if you let it all out there, then it is scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes I get scared sometimes, I am unsure about things, I can doubt people's intentions and it can be hard for me to trust.  I have the fear of getting hurt or looking stupid because I am being taken advantage of.  I am a people pleaser and sometimes I sacrifice my own happiness for making other people happy.  I care about what people think.  There I said it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-2897875335701803647?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2897875335701803647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=2897875335701803647' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2897875335701803647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2897875335701803647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/03/why-dont-you-be-honest.html' title='Why Don&apos;t You Be Honest'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1951141059321299525</id><published>2008-03-17T11:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T13:20:33.639-04:00</updated><title type='text'>80/20 Rule</title><content type='html'>I have been M.I.A. for so long and it feels good to be writing again. Relationships have been on my mind recently. Yesterday I watched several movies with my cousin and one of them "Why Did I Get Married", had me thinking about things. As I cried watching the relationships go through certain things and overcome the obstical's I realized that I have based a lot of my perception of relationships on the movies. We watched the movie where Prince Charming falls in love with the girl next door and does everything to win her over. As Jane and I look at this hot guy in the movie we both agree that is what we want. Someone to think we are the most special thing in the world and do everything to win our hearts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know life doesn't work that way and every relationship is not perfect that is why I liked the movie "Why Did I Get Married." One of the character's explained that in a relationship the person you are with will be at most 80% of what you want. When someone comes by that you feel is the 20% you are missing, you can think that is they can give you what you need. You will end up stuck with 20% of the person you want while you let go of the one that was 80% of everything you wanted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I liked this because no relationship is perfect and you may see someone that can offer the one thing you are missing in a relationship, but then you lose out on everything else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1951141059321299525?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1951141059321299525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1951141059321299525' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1951141059321299525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1951141059321299525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/03/8020-rule.html' title='80/20 Rule'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-3336672363024002620</id><published>2008-02-29T09:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T10:47:56.532-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Southern Connections</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R8gpHA0YvqI/AAAAAAAAAMc/gcRtRyXoNuY/s1600-h/Columbia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R8gpHA0YvqI/AAAAAAAAAMc/gcRtRyXoNuY/s200/Columbia.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172429372490563234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a continuation from my previous blog about growing up in the south. I went to a bar last night with some girlfriends which one was single. Of course she wants to meet someone and I was thinking about meeting people at a bar. How do people do that. It just seems strange to me because I always thought (which is snobby), that I would only talk to a guy if he knew one of my friends or I knew him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I started to think about my past relationships and how I met them. Most were at a bar so I was mistaken. The guy #1 I dated for 3 years in college, I met at a mixer (yes I was a sorority girl for a year or so then dropped out), but we met at a bar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy #2 I dated for the next 3 years of college, I was on the 6 year program, I met at a bar. He was a bartender at my favorite bar and eventually we went out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy #3 I dated when I moved to Charlotte, I met out with friends at a bar. We both knew the same people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy #4 They guy I am dating now we met at a bar also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I met these guys at bars, it turns out that we had mutual connections. The first guy was close friends to my best friend Katie. He was from the same town I was and dated a girl I went to high school with. I knew a lot of his friends. Even more strange is that we had mutual relatives but by marriage if he was a blood relative that would be strange. I once heard a story where a couple, who were engaged, went to a graveyard for some reason and found out they were related. They were 4th or 5th cousins which freaked them out. Back to guy # 1, his uncle was married to my 2nd cousin who actually lives around the block from my parents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy # 2 was roommates with a fraternity brother of guy #1. That was the only connection we had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy # 3 I met through mutual friends so of course we knew the same people. He was lived with a guy I went to high school with and I took to my Jr/Sr (prom). His other roommate had stayed at the beach one New Years with a couple of people. He also went off to school with my brother in laws little brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy # 4 We met through mutual friends also. I knew some of the same people he knows but what was strange about this is what happened when I met his mother. It turns out that his mother is best friends with my mom's cousin (who she lived with as a child and was practically her sister). His mother had been to my mom's house and my mom remembers her well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend Kevin, who I work with and met that way, is even more strange. Even though he was from Virginia, we had some mutual connections. His ex girlfriend was my sorority sister and in my pledge class. We had the same birthdays. His sister dated for several years a guy that my sister is friends with. I had met his wife and knew her. Also his sister lived with a guy that is now married to one of my best friends Jennifer. I am close with her husband and he knew Kevin from his sisters wedding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jud made a comment that his previous brother in law lives in Columbia, the town I grew up in and where my boyfriend lives). So I am pretty sure I either know him or he knows someone I know etc. Since I don't want to give out my full name I may never know.The world is smaller than it seems and even though Columbia is not that small and so is Charlotte, I am always amazed at how much people are connected.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-3336672363024002620?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3336672363024002620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=3336672363024002620' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3336672363024002620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3336672363024002620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/02/southern-connections.html' title='Southern Connections'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R8gpHA0YvqI/AAAAAAAAAMc/gcRtRyXoNuY/s72-c/Columbia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1863129587046667041</id><published>2008-02-29T00:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T00:28:20.681-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing Up in the South</title><content type='html'>I was thinking about tonight and what I was going to write about my experience tonight at a bar and meeting people.  Before I could get to my computer to write, my thoughts went in a different direction.  I will write about that later.  I wanted to share my love and hate relationship with the South.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are things I love and hate about the South, but I could not imagine living anywhere else.  For example, I hate the way older women say "Whose your kin?"  On the other hand I love the way everyone knows or knows someone who knows someone.  Everyone makes fun of us but there are southern ties and no we are not all related.  The only people that read this blog are from the south including my Alabama readers (Roll Tide).  I have to say even though I usually pull for Bama except when they are playing USC, I did not like one of your players.  I went to the South Carolina basketball game the other night when they were playing Alabama and one of your players (the good one that was hurt and will probably go to the NBA)took some nasty fouls that were not even called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay back to being a Southern Belle, I grew up hearing "a southern lady eats white rice and drinks ice tea,"  I drink coke and eat brown rice.  I unfortunately experienced being a debutante and I hate to admit it.  I don't understand the whole thing.  One of them you had dance cards to figure out who you would dance with to 5 songs.  I grew up a wallflower and would always go to the bathroom because no one would ask me to dance.  I looked 12.  I did the whole 6 balls to please my mother and 3 were in a row.  The only thing I liked about some of them were the ones you could drink.  There was one that the men gave and the alcohol was flowing (it did not matter we were 18).  I ended up staying out until 5 in the morning and had a blast.  Too much fun because the next night there was another ball and I think I may be the only debutante to ever be so hungover in a bathroom that they could barely make the debut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so bad because it was one that was so strict and they had some dance that made the girls look like they were in a flower. I don't know but me not being there was a scandal.  I made it barely for 10 minutes and made my date take me home.  Oh the horror.  It must have been the oysters I ate the night before (yeah right).  That is another thing people talk yet hide everything.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will talk about this some more but I have some funny rebellious things I did because I was not going to be some way just because.  I had to do things my way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1863129587046667041?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1863129587046667041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1863129587046667041' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1863129587046667041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1863129587046667041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/02/growing-up-in-south.html' title='Growing Up in the South'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-569276876908814982</id><published>2008-02-28T14:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T15:15:26.951-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sudden Motivation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R8cWRodDp1I/AAAAAAAAAMU/HoKq1rwF4EM/s1600-h/Garden.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R8cWRodDp1I/AAAAAAAAAMU/HoKq1rwF4EM/s200/Garden.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172127189231183698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it with winter?  Every winter I go through the same thing along with a bunch of people.  I think it is a time when people stay indoors and are lazier than normal.  I like to hybernate.  It is too cold outside to do anything I want to do and I hate the cold.  I am more of a beach loving, sun worshiper, person and so the winter is not the best of times for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel more depressed in the winter because I do not get out to do much and I am longing for the summer days.  I am over the hump now and I can feel Spring is just around the corner.  After the summer comes the excitement of football season.  During football season my mind is not on the weather.  I will tough out a cold day, probably miserable, just to watch my team.  Although those games when it is not too hot and not too cold are the best tailgating days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After recovering from the flu or cold, I feel like the winter is behind me.  I know it is just almost March, but April is around the corner!!  It is strange how much my mood is affected by the seasons, but now I am on a roll.  I know they alway refer to Spring Cleaning so this is not something that only happens to me.  Most everyone gets more energy and does more when spring arrives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know I love projects and most of the time I leave them unfinished.  Not this year!!  I have been bad and not volunteered this winter but now I signed up for several events which makes me feel good.  I also have decided that I am starting a new hobby, Gardening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have thought before that I should have a side job as a flower planner for certain events.  I love them so much that I think I would be great at it.  I wrote that long blog about different flowers and meanings and I started to think, I should do something about this love I have.  I could be a landscaper.  Well not exactly a landscaper because I don't think I am the type of person to carry rolls of grass and all of that other stuff.  Instead I could be a designer.  I could take a back yard and create it into something completely different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I am reading up on what to do.  The previous Anne would go to a garden center, buy a bunch of stuff plant them and hope for the best.  I have turned over a new leaf.  I am figuring out the type of soil, light, and what will do best in certain places.  It is so much fun and I may never get to actually plant any flowers but I am enjoying just creating these images.  I am a very creative person and my job really does not have anything to do with creativity.  I am in banking.  I need these things so I can express my creative energy that I do not get to do in my day to day life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-569276876908814982?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/569276876908814982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=569276876908814982' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/569276876908814982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/569276876908814982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/02/sudden-motivation.html' title='Sudden Motivation'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R8cWRodDp1I/AAAAAAAAAMU/HoKq1rwF4EM/s72-c/Garden.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1527756946615017919</id><published>2008-02-27T07:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T08:09:41.759-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Doing nothing at all</title><content type='html'>I have been sick with the flu so I have not written a blog in a long time.  I have not felt like doing that much recently. I was bummed because I was looking forward to an engagement party I was giving last weekend.  That is not like me because I never look forward to those types of parties.  Actually I like engagement and bachorlette parties but I hate baby showers.  So it was a party that was given with all of my Charleston girlfriends.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have talked about my Charleston friends before but there is a group of girls that have been friends since college and we still stay in touch.  They all still live in Charleston and I go visit them sometimes but it is always fun when we get together.  They are married with children but when we get together it never feels like couples and I am left out.  It just feels like all of the girls.  I actually was taking my boyfriend to the party so I was excited for him to meet all of my friends.  Well I got sick and had to leave before the party started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things just sometimes don't work out the way you think they will.  Actually they never do.  I think the times I have the most fun is when I do nothing at all.  Those unexpected times when it is another Friday night and somehow it ends up being fun.  Whether it is a night with someone close that you end up talking all night or you end up going out all night, those are the times that are great.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes get consumed with what I am going to do this weekend or what the plan is that I forget that just having people to do something with is all that matters.  Doing nothing at all is sometimes the most fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1527756946615017919?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1527756946615017919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1527756946615017919' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1527756946615017919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1527756946615017919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/02/doing-nothing-at-all.html' title='Doing nothing at all'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-355885951075979231</id><published>2008-02-21T17:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T17:31:06.212-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Survived Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>I have talked about before how much I hate Valentine's Day.  As a child it was so tramatic seeing all the popular kids get cards compared to my handful of ones that were generic and sent to every child in the class.  It was almost as bad as homecoming time where people would buy carnations for their friends.  Another delivery for someone else.  It never occurred to ask myself, did I send anyone a carnation?  I am the thoughtful person who puts myself out there and sends extra Valentine's Day cards to everyone?  I probably forgot or was not thoughtful, left my cards at home, etc.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you get older you realize that even though I was in the cool group but just a sidekick.  I was a follower and even though I was friends with the cool girls, no one remembered me.  Or at least that is what I thought.  I did not put myself out there.  I was shy and would not send someone even a best friend a carnation because I was scared they would not do the same.  So silly these things I thought or behaved in middle school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up being one of the girls at work that got a dozen red roses.  Pretty but the way to my heart is by an bouquet of my favorite flowers or just a single iris.  I was pleased that I got flowers and a great present and also a little dissappointed that my boyfriend was sick so we stayed in.  I was dissappointed at first but it ended up being much better than going to some fancy restaurant.  Just hanging at home and relaxing is so great.  Overall, I survived and I am more happy that I have someone to share the day with but for me the year would be much better if they got rid of Valentine's Day.  I could do without that day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just send me flowers every once in awhile (the best is when you get flowers unexpected, go out for dinner sometimes, on a pretty day go to the park, and on an occasion if the time is right ask me to dance or dance at home to any kind of music.  If someone does that then there is no need for a special day.  Those are the things that are truely special.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-355885951075979231?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/355885951075979231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=355885951075979231' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/355885951075979231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/355885951075979231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-survived-valentines-day.html' title='I Survived Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1602116649616598449</id><published>2008-02-12T09:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T13:11:46.572-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day and What Flowers Mean to Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R7GtqYdDplI/AAAAAAAAAKI/ATP7Rd8uzf4/s1600-h/okeefe-black-iris.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R7GtqYdDplI/AAAAAAAAAKI/ATP7Rd8uzf4/s200/okeefe-black-iris.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166101191201105490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it's your world for the moment. I want to give that world to someone else. Most people in the city rush around so, they have no time to look at a flower. I want them to see it whether they want to or not."&lt;br /&gt;- Georgia O'Keeffe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every year when Valentine's Day comes, I feel saddened because one of my passions (flowers) becomes a symbol of commercialism.  A dozen red roses is marked up every Valentine's Day because it has become an expectation for Valentine's Day.  I said how much I hate this day because every year I see the dozen's of roses being delivered to women all on my floor.  Even though I loathe red roses, I feel some envy when I see them delivered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flowers have been an important symbol long before Hallmark.  They are used as religious symbols, a flower was used as a symbol of an emotion long before words were used to express feeling or emotions. They were used in ceremonies, the actual name carnation is believed to come from the word coronation because it was used in the Greek ceremony crowns. Flowers are used in many ceremonies including weddings and funerals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I developed a passion for flowers long before I knew the history behind them.  I remember as a child making my own crown from linking flowers together.  I felt like a little princess.  I remember picking honeysuckle from the side of the house and still remember the sweet taste to this day.  I remember an old book, I think it was even in French, that I would stare at as a child with the pictures and names of flowers.  It was the language of flowers and now I know that was adapted in French culture some time ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a feeling that there was more to a flower than just the beauty at a young age.  I remember the first time I got flowers.  My dad gave me a dozen red roses before my first piano recital.  I was 9 or 10 but somehow I knew that red roses gave me a strange feeling and were not appropriate.  Red roses symbolize love and passion and are not something a 9 year old should get from a father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In high school I was introduced to the work of the artist Georgia O'Keefe.  Pictures of her paintings were plastered over my walls.  I was drawn to the beauty of her work but later I realized that some people felt the flowers symbolized the female sexuality.  The picture above is the famous "Black Iris" thought to be a picture of the female organ. Why is it said that someone is deflowered?  Flowers not only can have a sexual meaning but they can also symbolize purity.  The lily is used in weddings and linked to the Virgin Mary as a symbol of purity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish people knew the meaning behind a flower even if they are just giving them to a person as a token of their love.  I will share a link about the history of the Valentine's Day rose in case anyone wants to know why red roses are given on Valentine's Day and it is not something that was made up by Hallmark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure if I am drawn to certain flowers for the reason they were named or used in ancient history or if I just like the way they look.  My favorite flower the Iris has a long history and once I learned the meaning and history of the Iris, I was even more in love with this flower.  The Iris which is also a name for a part of the eye was named after the greek messanger god which linked heaven and earth.  It is a symbol of the link to the known and unknown.  The three leaves of the iris mean faith, wisdom and valor.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The orchid is another favorite of mine because it reminds me of myself.  They are tempormental and can be difficult to grow. Just like me.  They were treasured and were a symbol of wealth.  The orchid was named for the male sex organ.  So I don't know why I am drawn to these sexual flowers but somehow they are beautiful to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for the long blog but if you are interested here is a link to the history of the valentine's day rose.  http://www.tokenz.com/valentines-day-flower.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it's your world for the moment. I want to give that world to someone else. Most people in the city rush around so, they have no time to look at a flower. I want them to see it whether they want to or not. &lt;br /&gt;Georgia O'Keeffe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1602116649616598449?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1602116649616598449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1602116649616598449' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1602116649616598449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1602116649616598449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/02/valentines-day-and-what-flowers-mean-to.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day and What Flowers Mean to Me'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R7GtqYdDplI/AAAAAAAAAKI/ATP7Rd8uzf4/s72-c/okeefe-black-iris.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-5309732437907403819</id><published>2008-02-07T16:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T16:43:01.802-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clumsy</title><content type='html'>I apologize for all the blogs today.  I am really nervous so I am talking a lot to either co workers or writing a blog.  I wanted to write a short blog about the song Clumsy by Fergie.  Someone told me it reminded them of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You got me trippin', stumbling, flippin', fumbling&lt;br /&gt;Clumsy cuz I'm fallin' in love&lt;br /&gt;You got me slippin', tumbling, sinking, fumbling&lt;br /&gt;Clumsy cuz I'm fallin in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fell a couple of days ago and then the following morning.  Someone saw my legs with all the bruises and asked what I had done.  The scary thing is which time?  Was it last week, yesterday, I just forget because I run, fall, stumble all the time&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-5309732437907403819?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/5309732437907403819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=5309732437907403819' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/5309732437907403819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/5309732437907403819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/02/clumsy.html' title='Clumsy'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-8382265465391906651</id><published>2008-02-07T13:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T14:30:24.834-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Drama Queen</title><content type='html'>I have heard people tell me I am a drama queen.  I now realize that is definitely true.  I hate being sick, can not tolerate pain and I overexagerate most anything.  Sometimes I maybe over dramatic but I honestly feel this way.  I am having some procedure done today and I have been freaking out.  My heart is racing, I think the worst possible outcome will happen, and I am scared out of my mind.  I feel I can be this way but when I read that what I am having done is so safe they do it to babies, I felt maybe I am over dramatic.  I still am feeling anxious but I will get over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually the drama involved is about myself.  It is something I am working on because I now am aware of the problem.  So the drama queen will have to cut back a little bit.  But pray that I make it out alive!!!  I am just kidding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-8382265465391906651?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8382265465391906651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=8382265465391906651' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8382265465391906651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8382265465391906651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/02/drama-queen.html' title='Drama Queen'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1313179670621473971</id><published>2008-02-06T12:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:22:49.486-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reflections of Anne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>How I met the New Guy I'm Seeing</title><content type='html'>I am responding to Jud's blog by answering how I met someone the person who you married, a good friend, a character I talk about in my blog.  I have been talking about now being in a relationship and since I have been getting advice and encouragement from others, I will talk about how we met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really can't remember the exact moment when we first met.  I know I met him through my good friend Katie's (who I mentioned in a previous blog about our first encounter) little sister.  He lives in Columbia where both Katie and my parents live.  I am sure the first meeting was either Za's or Nightcaps.  Anyway I remember him being funny, outgoing and made me feel comfortable and good.  He also called me "hot Anne".  How could I not like that.  This was several years ago.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went with Katie to the beach with her sister and Bob my there also. I remember playing some drinking game and he was sitting behind me trying to help me.  I had so much fun but then I thought this guy is getting a little too close.  I had just gotten back together with a previous relationship and so I just thought of him as a funny guy friend.  I had a lot of fun that night with him but I think he wanted to get some action.  He was a single guy or at least I think he was and I have heard stories about his past. He is a big flirt but he is fun to be around. When we started to date he showed me a picture he still had of the two of us from forever ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward 3 or 4 years to a couple of months ago.  I was meeting my friend Katie in Columbia and she was with her sister and some other people including Bob.  She said she was not in the mood to talk about babies, boys or all that stupid stuff so she pulled Bob outside.  When I called her to tell her where she was she said she was with Bob and she loves him.  He was asking about me and that he is a great guy, funny, etc.  Whatever Katie I thought.  I think she personally left me alone later that night with him, but that did not matter.  I had a lot of fun and loved talking to him.  I think I was the flirty one this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked me to go to a wedding the next weekend and I told him I do not do weddings and date.  He asked me to meet him for a drink and I could not do it.  He then asked me to go to the Carolina/Clemson game and how could I turn down football.  Again I had fun with him and we have seen each other every weekend since.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1313179670621473971?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1313179670621473971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1313179670621473971' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1313179670621473971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1313179670621473971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/02/how-i-met-new-guy-im-seeing.html' title='How I met the New Guy I&apos;m Seeing'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1941111093367468632</id><published>2008-02-06T11:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T11:01:17.078-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Going Out'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wanting More'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><title type='text'>You Always Want What You Can't Have</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R6nvqClcrHI/AAAAAAAAAHo/PbFaMUM35G4/s1600-h/Tracy%27s+Birthday+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R6nvqClcrHI/AAAAAAAAAHo/PbFaMUM35G4/s200/Tracy%27s+Birthday+011.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163921953284467826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R6nvaClcrGI/AAAAAAAAAHg/LQLYpWKf1uM/s1600-h/Tracy%27s+Birthday+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R6nvaClcrGI/AAAAAAAAAHg/LQLYpWKf1uM/s200/Tracy%27s+Birthday+004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163921678406560866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a picture of my friend Tracy at her birthday party last weekend.  I had tons of fun and it was good to get out with the girls.  I have been going out of town pretty much every weekend.  I am in a long distance relationship.  I came back to Charlotte so I could celebrate Tracy's birthday.  You can never forget about your friends which can sometimes happen when you get in a relationship.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this night was strange because it was the first time going out in a long time boyless.  I always went out but I never looked for meeting a guy so I don't know what changed.  I acted uninterested before and even though occasionally if I had someone try and hit on me I would turn the other way.  I would not even notice.  I didn't really notice this night, but I heard that a couple of guys were asking about me.  Not to brag or anything but it felt good.  Tracy said she kept having to say she has a boyfriend.  One guy still managed to try and talk to me even though he knew I was not single.  I told him don't bother trying to talk to me because it's not going to happen.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have heard that when a guy wears a wedding band he gets more approached by women.  I know when I start seeing a guy all of a sudden you have people interested in you.  Why is that? Is it because they know nothing will happen or if it does then you don't have to deal with the whole dating and calling, the fun stuff.  Is it because you have more confidence in yourself?  I don't know but I do know every once in awhile you like to hear that someone notices you.  The next picture is of me, Tracy, and Molly. The girl in red in one of the pictures was definately on a man hunt.  You could since it.  She was asking what to respond to a text and asked me (even though I just met her that night) to leave my friend's party to go to another bar because some guy was going to be there.  I am so glad I don't have to worry about what to say and all of that stupid stuff.  Now I have to deal with the problems and work it takes to be in a relationship.  It is not as easy as it seems.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1941111093367468632?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1941111093367468632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1941111093367468632' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1941111093367468632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1941111093367468632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/02/you-always-want-what-you-cant-have.html' title='You Always Want What You Can&apos;t Have'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R6nvqClcrHI/AAAAAAAAAHo/PbFaMUM35G4/s72-c/Tracy%27s+Birthday+011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-2307635950188498590</id><published>2008-02-05T14:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T09:46:21.293-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reflections of Anne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>I Am Who I Am</title><content type='html'>I am still thinking about what I wrote last night about wishing I could be less giving and become indifferent.  I am going to use some quotes today like MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE said, "I quote others only in order the better to express myself."  So to quote Janis Joplin: "Don't compromise yourself. You are all you've got".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am truely a unique person.  I never did things just because it was expected of me.  I was the debutant that was in the bathroom hungover the from the night before.  I wanted to surf instead of sunbathing with the rest of the girls.  I left college to go backpack across Europe.  When I graduated I was not in search of a man to take care of me, marry, have kids, etc., I moved to a town where I could accomplish my career goals.  I have always done things my own way so I am finding it difficult to make some necessary changes in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am finding it a bit difficult to make some changes and grow up.  I think people can always learn and accept that you can be a better person.  I am open to the opportunity to better myself but it is hard to change all at once.  Now that I am in a relationship, which was unexpected, I am having to accept some critism about myself and hope he will have the patience for me to learn some relationship skills.  I cut myself off from relationships after college because then it is serious.  You are in the time of your life where people are looking for someone for their future.  I was looking for what was going on that night.  I did not want to look ahead but just live in the moment.  Therefore I did not want to start a relationship I knew it would either lead into me hurting him or I would have to sacrifice what I wanted to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a little bit stubborn and have my own opinions but have always wanted to listen to others.  I think that by listening you can learn so much.  I do not understand and I lack respect for people that will not listen to the other side before making an opinion.  I think a prejudist person is limiting themselves to learning so much about other cultures, beliefs, etc. I respect ones beliefs even if they are not my own.  The one thing I always did not understand was women who searched for a man to take care of them.  I felt some people were getting married juat to get married.  I did not understand how my sister could waste her brain (she is very smart) to be a stay at home mom.  I know I had the wrong outlook, but it is what I felt at the time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am growing up and learning that maybe some of my beliefs or feelings may not be the best for me.  I can be someone else and be a responsible, mature girl (it is still hard for me to say woman).  So have patience with me and know that I am going to make mistakes. I think I have jumped the biggest hurdle and have accepted that it is time for a change. CHARLES DUBOIS said "The important thing is this: To be able at any moment to sacrifice what we are for what we could become."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a lot to offer someone but I have not been willing to do that.  I have not wanted to face the reality that it was time to grow up.  I will end with a quatation. GOETHE: "Difficulties increase the nearer we get to the goal." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some quotes that caught my attention. I am bolding my favorites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ERNEST HEMINGWAY: &lt;br /&gt;When people talk, listen completely. Most people never listen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BLAISE PASCAL: &lt;br /&gt;You always admire what you really don't understand.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ALBERT EINSTEIN: &lt;br /&gt;In the middle of every difficulty lies opportunity.&lt;/strong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BLAISE PASCAL: &lt;br /&gt;We are all something, but none of us are everything.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;RALPH WALDO EMERSON: &lt;br /&gt;Make the most of yourself for that is all there is of you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ROBERT SCHULLER: &lt;br /&gt;As we grow as unique persons, we learn to respect the uniqueness of others&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WILLIAM JAMES: &lt;br /&gt;The deepest craving of human nature is the need to be appreciated&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MOTHER TERESA: &lt;br /&gt;Kind words can be short and easy to speak but their echoes are truly endless&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-2307635950188498590?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2307635950188498590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=2307635950188498590' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2307635950188498590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/2307635950188498590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-am-who-i-am.html' title='I Am Who I Am'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-259931414168047911</id><published>2008-02-04T21:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:24:46.875-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reflections of Anne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><title type='text'>Sweet Anne</title><content type='html'>I have many nicknames but this one is my favorite.  I was called Sweet Anne back in college because I am just so sweet.  Tonight I have been thinking about this because I am not so sure this is a quality I like right now.  I care about others more than myself sometimes.  I like to make people happy a lot.  Some people may say otherwise, but if I let someone down it is the worst feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I was getting ready because someone was coming into town.  I guess I called a lot because I want to make sure things are just right.  I have never felt bad about doing something for someone, but I do tonight.  I always buy things for my employees, give food to a homeless guy, go above and beyond to make sure that I did whatever I could sometimes.  I even was going to sacrifice Valentine's Day.  Even though I hate this day, it should be about the woman.  I noticed there was a Clemson game on the night of Valentine's Day.  I am a true Gamecock born and breed.  To even date a Clemson fan is going against how I was raised.  So I told him about this game and maybe that could be something we can do that day.  Making him happy is all I want.  I love to make other people happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tonight I am stunned because for the first time in my life I feel bad about trying to do something for someone.  I don't ever want to feel that way, but I do now.  I think it is time to say I need to be happy.  Stop caring about what others are feeling because sometimes they don't appreciate it or don't do things for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to vent for a bit.  I can not stop being Sweet Anne.  I actually was brought to tears a couple weeks ago at work.  All of my employees got together and gave me a card along with some gift certificates out of the blue to tell me how much they appreciate all that I have done for them.  I will never feel that way again or it was just so wonderful because I just like doing whatever I can to make them happy and I never think about myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I will be surprised and tomorrow they will appreciate what I have done for them.  For example one person drinks diet coke.  I make sure that I have some before they visit.  When I go to that person's house there is never coke (what I drink).  It is the little things I do.  I will go to sleep and wake up being back to Sweet Anne but tonight I am upset and I deserve to be.  I deserve to feel appreciated and one day (like what my employees did) it will be returnes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-259931414168047911?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/259931414168047911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=259931414168047911' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/259931414168047911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/259931414168047911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/02/sweet-anne.html' title='Sweet Anne'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-8270090914394573527</id><published>2008-01-22T09:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:25:00.054-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trips'/><title type='text'>The Highlands</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R5eoSClcrBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Xr1Xt-cjf88/s1600-h/aswwfalls.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R5eoSClcrBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Xr1Xt-cjf88/s320/aswwfalls.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158776926061243410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the Highlands this past weekend and had a wonderful time.  I was pleasantly surprised because I thought I was not a mountain girl.  I have always said I hated the mountains and to take me to the beach.  I have a strange fear.  Everytime I get terrified when I am in a car making sharp turns.  Getting off a ramp on the interstate makes my stomach drop.  Going to the mountains is not fun for me with all of the twist and turns.  I just would not bother.  I found out after being there a couple of days my fear was no longer there and I wanted to go faster around the bends.  Okay I made the last part up.  The beauty took away the fear and seeing all of the sights along with going to the best spa I have ever been to made it worthwile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Fire Mountain that consisted of several cabins.  We had our own cabin complete with a huge bathtub and fireplace.  We actually did not spend much time in the cabin.  The first night we were there, we met up with Grisby.  It was the first time I met this person and I was told he was one of a kind.  You can not imagine all the accomplishments this man has done.  Every minute I was amazed by something new.  We went to his cabin, that he built on his own.  He carved each piece of wood.  How many people build their house with their own two hands.  I can go on and on about all of the things he has done but what impressed me the most was he was a true person.  He did what he wanted and said exactly how he felt, whether you like it or not.  His stories were incredible but I really admire real people.  I care about others more than myself that I am constantly worrying if I hurt someone's feelings. One thing I think we had in common is that we are both honost people.  That is a quality I am proud of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we explored the falls and of course I went to the spa for a treatment.  We went to an extremely fancy restaurant and I learned that Outback is just as good if not better.  Sometimes I get the idea that a fancy dinner, chocolate covered strawberries, champagne extravigant things are what I want.  I think I will always want chocolate covered strawberries, but other than that, spending time and enjoying the moment is what life is all about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned a lot of things on my mountain trip.  I learned I could conquer a fear, learn the value of the simple things in life, and that there is so much beauty up in the mountains.  So I came off the mountain a better person and for that I am thankful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am not sure what it will be like in the spring with the mountain smell that brings back memories of my camp days.  That smell just makes me cringe.  I guess I might give it a chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a slide show if anyone wants to view some pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.slide.com/r/2Os3bDsbtj-qGNcDtv_lG6IHQUGOCgDI?previous_view=mscd_embedded_url&amp;view=original&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-8270090914394573527?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8270090914394573527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=8270090914394573527' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8270090914394573527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8270090914394573527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/01/highlands.html' title='The Highlands'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R5eoSClcrBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Xr1Xt-cjf88/s72-c/aswwfalls.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-5915785432067592456</id><published>2008-01-18T11:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:25:30.580-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><title type='text'>What am I doing</title><content type='html'>I guess it is time to let people know that single Anne now has a boyfriend.  I know I have tried to stay single because I am at the age where if you start dating someone it can turn into something serious.  Serious means getting married, having a future, etc. and that stuff freaks me out.  Me being me would end up hurting the person because I would not be ready for any serious commitment.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I met someone and he made me laugh.  I felt good about myself and I wanted to continue to be around him.  One thing led to another and here I am with a boyfriend.  I am very loyal and honost with people and especially someone I date.  That can lead me into trouble because I say anything and everything.  The one thing about having a boyfriend that many people think is an adjustment is being committed to one person.  That has not changed because I would not go out with many people.  I did not see the point since I was not looking for a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been my own person and those true friends have stuck by me, but I am pretty difficult.  It can be frustrating to anyone who dates me.  It is hard to communicate and I say the wrong things but mostly I am still a mess.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried this week to prepare for a mountain trip.  Usually I pack for a trip right before I walk out the door.  I don't prepare.  I live in the spur of the moment and this week it has me all confused.  I really tried and wanted to make sure that I would not let my boyfriend down by forgetting something etc.  I was so concerned about that, that it ruined everything.  I was not myself and I can not be that way.  I am who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always looked down on girls that changed for a guy and did all that stupid stuff, but that is what I was doing.  I wanted to please him and in doing that I stressed myself out.  I think in a relationship you should not have to change but then you really do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-5915785432067592456?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/5915785432067592456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=5915785432067592456' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/5915785432067592456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/5915785432067592456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/01/what-am-i-doing.html' title='What am I doing'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-427741223383732471</id><published>2008-01-17T17:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:47:54.448-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blunders'/><title type='text'>My Love Affair With a Monkey</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R4_WdF1fz2I/AAAAAAAAAGk/eSvIT397a-U/s1600-h/spider+monkey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R4_WdF1fz2I/AAAAAAAAAGk/eSvIT397a-U/s320/spider+monkey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156575893633617762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In high school I was pretty much the same as I am now, but I was not used to these crazy things happening to me at least not in front of my class-mates. In 4th grade I remembering throwing up in class. That was embarrassing, but I think there were outfit mishaps and other trips, falls, whatever. I came to know that I was accident prone when I was in High School. Let me tell you about Festus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our class went on a trip to South America. We went to Belize and then somewhere in Guatemala. The plane ride was extremely scary so much so that I was going to write a memoir to my family as the plane was about to crash. We cleared the trees and landed to safety. Well everyone else was safe. That is when we arrived at a bungalow place with monkeys, birds, and even a jaguar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a cage that you go past to get to dinner and as I was walking past the monkey cage, I felt my hair being pulled. All of a sudden my face was against the cage but I tried to cover my face. The monkey was so strong I could not get away. He had all four legs wrapped around me in a huge hug. I thought I was going to die and then when I felt his tail going into my mouth, I thought my life was over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were people around laughing of course, but then some elders got alarmed. They had to get not one person but 5 people (I forgot about the tail) to get Festus off of me. They said he must have liked my perfume. I never wear perfume, it is just the luck I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So being high school teenagers, the guys all thought it was hysterical to call me fetus for the rest of the trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day after I recovered from my incident a couple of us were invited to go horseback riding for some photo shoot they were doing for a magazine. We were riding along and sure enough, my shirt gets stuck on a limb of a tree. The horse kept going as I was stuck to this tree and when the horse was far enough, there I was on the ground. I could not believe both of these things could happen to me in 2 days. I was mortified. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love it now because I can tell the story and have people laugh. We had to talk about an embarrassing moment at work yesterday and I brought this up. It was great seeing my employees get a good laugh. If I have to go through these endeavours, I might as well put a smile on others faces. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have encountered monkeys since then from a distance. Actually I was pretty close to some in Costa Rica. I had no attacks so I don't hate monkeys just the one named Festus&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-427741223383732471?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/427741223383732471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=427741223383732471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/427741223383732471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/427741223383732471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-love-affair-with-monkey.html' title='My Love Affair With a Monkey'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R4_WdF1fz2I/AAAAAAAAAGk/eSvIT397a-U/s72-c/spider+monkey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1424825061564330592</id><published>2008-01-14T11:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:26:28.276-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blunders'/><title type='text'>Miss Grace</title><content type='html'>I said in my description of my blog as someone that is clumsy, say the wrong things, and I have heard often from people, you are such a mess.  I don't know what I do, but there is always something.  I have worn clothes inside out, put on two different pair of shoes, and just last week I wore a sweater that had a rip in the sleave (I did not notice it until I was at work) and my heel come off of my shoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason for the heel is my dog.  I said in the last blog she got a pair of shoes.  They looked fine, except the heel had a couple of marks on it.  What I did not know is that she soften the heel so now I am wearing a skirt with black tights and running shoes.  My high heels have been replaced by running shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran into this guy from work that actually gave me the idea to write a blog.  He told me that I always have things happening to me and that I should write a book.  Doesn't this stuff happen to everyone?  Well when he saw me with my outfit on and I had to tell him the story, he just shook his head and laughed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I hear people say only Anne would do this etc. but I hear it all the time.  Things like this happen all the time so I can not write about them because I forget before I write a blog and then my mind is on something else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to the mountains this weekend and I told some co-workers about it and how we may go hiking.  The response was you + hiking = emergency.  They said it could be dangerous and since I can not walk on flat ground, they didn't think it was a good idea to be climbing up some mountain.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that day I did the typical Ouch!! that could be heard by everyone and that just solidified their statement.  Usually people would go over and ask if someone was okay or be startled by this but it is a frequent thing that they are used to.  The COO of our company said I need to just wear a helmet because I run into things.  Ha Ha very funny but they don't have to live with the bumps, bruises and other things that comes with being clumsy.  I mentioned before how embarrasing it is to be examined in the ER with another injury and the nurse ask if I was being abused.  They might be required to do this, but when they see all of the bruises it is a concern.  No I am just clumsy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many stories I could tell but I have to get back to work.  Next blog I am going to write about my South America trip in high school and how I was attacked by a monkey and fell off of a horse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I think I have a medical problem.  I was trying to walk heel to toe to measure something and I could not get my balance.  Yes, it is not just that I don't pay attention I have a balancing issue.  Now what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many stories I could tell but I have to get back to work.  Next blog I am going to write about my South America trip in high school and how I was attacked by a monkey and fell off of a horse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1424825061564330592?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1424825061564330592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1424825061564330592' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1424825061564330592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1424825061564330592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/01/miss-grace.html' title='Miss Grace'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-1538158315818887970</id><published>2008-01-10T23:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:26:56.679-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dogs Ella'/><title type='text'>Can You Teach a Dog New Tricks?</title><content type='html'>If you are trying to read some self help advice on men, then stop reading.  This is actually about my dog and the person I talk most about, me.  You always hear you can't teach a dog new tricks when dealing with me or so the myth goes.  I have always believed you can not change a man, you have to accept them as they are.  You might can change the way they dress one friend has said to me, but I am not even that hopeful about that so especially not about changing someones character.  So how can I change the devil characteristics that are in my angel, Ella.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been very frustrated this week.  I have a year and a half year old dog that has ruined my carpets, ate unmentionable clothing, this week chewed wood, and tonight have ruined some expensive pair of shoes?  I can not blame her even though she has done this things.  I am the one that has not trained her well.  How could she know the differance between her dozens of chew toys and my shoes.  I know I thought she was the smartest dog but even if she was, it is me that left the shoes on the floor.  Her trainers have said she is extremely smart, which should make me feel proud but instead makes me feel like terrible.  If she was dumb then she would not know better, but she is not, I am the one that turned her into this monster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is where I come in.  What can I do to make this monster the dog she should be?  I wanted a dog for a long time.  About 5 years ago I mentioned this to my mother.  She know the person I am and said I should get a plant if that survives then maybe you should think of this again.  So I got a plant, but I also had this great roomate that did everything including watering the plant.  My plant survived over one year, but when she moved out it died within a week.  So I got fish, they lasted a little longer but they all died also.  Now I am mature and got a dog finally, but I was not ready for this.  I am not an animal killer, I love animals.  I have a big heart but I can not structured.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now and this is one thing I am trying to do for myself.  I don't want to always mess up but somehow I do.  So is it like mother like daughter?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was recently at a baby shower and everyone except me and one of my friends that is engaged have children.  They were talking about baby wise and I am wondering why I can not take care of a dog.  How do you potty train, not a baby a dog.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone asked how my charity work is going.  Not good.  I longed for my dog to be a therapy dog, but I am now concentrating on the fundamentals.  I need to get those down and even for myself, before I could think about having someone depend on her.  That is my goal because I like being there for other people, but for now let's make her know how to be a dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-1538158315818887970?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1538158315818887970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=1538158315818887970' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1538158315818887970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/1538158315818887970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/01/can-you-teach-dog-new-tricks.html' title='Can You Teach a Dog New Tricks?'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-3759497065081689020</id><published>2008-01-08T08:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:27:13.434-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Communication'/><title type='text'>Communication Difficulty</title><content type='html'>I described myself as not smooth.  That is definately the truth when I try to communicate with someone.  I wrote about "Anne Language" and that comes out sometimes when I am trying to explain something.  Things just come out all wrong.  I say whatever is on my mind which is a problem.  I may say something to someone that I do not realize I should have kept the comment to myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran into someone I went to high school with.  My sister is close friends with her older sister. Several months ago I saw her at a concert.  I was in line for a beer and she was with a guy.  I knew she had been married and I thought she had a baby.  I asked her if that was her husband.  I did not notice there was no ring and I pretty much had a feeling it wasn't.  She told me it was a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I told my sister that I bumped into her and asked if she was still married.  She said she was and did not know why I asked.  So I did not think about it and did not think it was a big deal.  I come to find out when I saw her recently that she had just seperated from her husband and no one knew about it.  When I asked my sister it brought this out in the open.  Her sister told her that people knew now knew thanks to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt so bad.  I also have trouble explaining myself.  I get things all wrong.  I start to explain something and then stop.  It can be frustrating to some people.  Since I don't say the right thing, I have to keep bringing it up to try and make it better.  I am just going to keep my mouth shut but if something bothers me, I will let that person know right away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-3759497065081689020?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3759497065081689020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=3759497065081689020' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3759497065081689020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/3759497065081689020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/01/communication-difficulty.html' title='Communication Difficulty'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-7058407819762953580</id><published>2008-01-07T23:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:27:24.420-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trips'/><title type='text'>Where Have I Been</title><content type='html'>I was trying to think of the last time I spent a weekend in Charlotte.  I really can not remember.  My friends have said comments about when are you going to stay in town, but I did not think I have been gone for so long.  I have been caught up in the Holiday's and it seems like I have been on vacation or absent.  It does not feel like I have been on vacation.  I have actually been thinking that I want to take a vacation.  I called my cousin today because I was thinking of Vegas and wanted to go on another trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels good to be home.  I feel like I have lost focus and even though it is overwhelming realizing what all I need or want to do, I feel more grounded.  I need to get back on schedule.  I can't say I have ever been really focused or stuck to a certain schedule.  I actually would do whatever I wanted to do and you know from other blogs that I can do things at the spur of the moment.  So I take that back, I want to have a tentative schedule or really have things planned out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-7058407819762953580?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7058407819762953580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=7058407819762953580' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7058407819762953580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7058407819762953580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/01/where-have-i-been.html' title='Where Have I Been'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-6830142454334433310</id><published>2008-01-04T13:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:27:40.034-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>I Survived Another Holiday Season</title><content type='html'>I come from a large family.  I have one real sister, two step brothers, a step sister and a half brother.  My sister Jean is the oldest which is 6 years older than me.  My step sister is only 4 months younger than me.  My half brother is my dad's son and is 12 years younger than me.  He is still in high school.  I can't even remember high school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the exception of my younger brother, I am the only one in my family that is not married.  It all started with the table in my mom's house.  It had a picture of each girl displayed on it.  When my brother's got married their wives were added, but when my younger sister got married my picture was removed.  What?  So you must have a wedding picture to be displayed on the table.  Was I demoted?  What happened to make picture?  Was it shoved in the corner only to gather cobwebs?  I can't tell you.  I have no idea.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents do not pressure me to get married so it is not that.  They actually would die if I did.  I am still growing up and I know I have some things to do before I even could go down that road.  They accept that but I think they are ready for me to change.  I don't know if that will happen, I think I am having fun right now.  Someday maybe I will meet someone who can put up with me, but until then I will continue taking my time learning things my own way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of my siblings have children so that is where my parents want to be.  So I follow them and spend the Holiday at my sister's with her whole family.  I am the aunt that tagged along.  My nephew asked if Santa Claus was coming to see me.  I am 30 years old and I think Santa gave up on me a long time ago.  My nephew's have asked why I am not married.  Even them?  The worst is my uncle who has no problem asking everytime I see him why aren't you dating someone.  What are you doing wrong?  What happened to that last guy?  Why did you run him off?  I did not say well that guy was a jerk etc.  You have to laugh at it but I held my tongue and did not say anything.  I could have said something about his daughter that I have never seen with a boy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the absolute worst thing that I saw this holiday season was the stockings hung on the fireplace.  There it was my old stocking from when I was a child in the center of the fireplace.  My stocking was surrounded by identical stockings of all of the grandchildren.  By the way none of my other brothers or sisters stockings were hung up.  I was demoted to the children's table.  My picture removed from display with the other women and my place was now with the grandchildren.  I know I don't act mature but to be in the same grouping as 5 year olds.  I guess I really do need to start acting my age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I made it and I feel bad because I am pretty lucky to even be surrounded by family.  I often feel for others who do not have that.  I think about my mom whose parents died when she was 14.  She always says how tough that was for her.  I am pretty lucky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-6830142454334433310?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6830142454334433310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=6830142454334433310' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6830142454334433310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6830142454334433310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-survived-another-holiday-season.html' title='I Survived Another Holiday Season'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-7612097790431567706</id><published>2008-01-04T07:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:27:46.974-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Car Problems'/><title type='text'>Car Update</title><content type='html'>I have not said much about my driving/car trouble lately so I will give you an update. I have had another flat tire and hit 2 cars in the bumper (barely and it left no marks).  This is all due to me being on my iphone.  Yes I am one of the people that everyone hates.  I have enough trouble driving as it is so I am going to do better and leave talking on the phone to when the car is stopped.  Let's hope anyway.  Other than hitting parked objects my car had to go in the shop.  It would not go into reverse.  It just froze and if I finally got it to go into reverse it would freeze up trying to park.  Not the smartest to be driving under these conditions anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had to go get a drivers license.  I still have not got one since I lost my wallet (I don't care what people say it was stolen and I did not lose it this time).  Since I live in NC for 6 1/2 years you would assume I have a NC license.  No, I am a little behind so I had to drive (with my malfunctioning car) to SC and get a new one.  When I made it to the shop I knew it was going to be pricy because we are talking about my transmission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How stupid did I feel when they told me what the problem was.  I had split too many drinks down the gear shift and it rotted out something or another that they had to replace.  So after fixing my side bumper (I forgot to tell you about that, it fell off on the Interstate) the one that was damanged from multiple accidents and fixing whatever I caused by spilling too many cokes, I left the dealership feeling a little stupid.  By the way I don't have an old car or one that should be in the shop as much as it is because of my doing. I have a 2004 acura.  Acura the same cars made by Honda, most reliable thankfully because I am driving.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-7612097790431567706?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7612097790431567706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=7612097790431567706' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7612097790431567706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7612097790431567706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/01/car-update.html' title='Car Update'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-8155772701425791075</id><published>2008-01-03T11:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:29:43.921-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>New Year's Eve</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R30O3V1fz1I/AAAAAAAAAGc/EkumVV8kQww/s1600-h/New+Year%27s+Eve.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R30O3V1fz1I/AAAAAAAAAGc/EkumVV8kQww/s200/New+Year%27s+Eve.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151289892698836818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it has been a long time since I have blogged but I have been out of town on vacation.  I know, I know, I hate to dissappoint everyone and even though I did not get wild and crazy, I did go on a vacation for the Holiday which brings me to the topic of this blog.  Surpisingly enough I was not alone on NYE but I also was not on stage with the band.  I wish I could say I had a blast and have all these fun stories to tell, but like most NYE's in the past it was not that great.  I was not disappointed because I did not expect much since I feel that this night is easy to not live up to expectations.  If you are single, then at 12:00 you look at all of the couples kissing and are reminded of the fact that yes you are alone.  You can grab a random person to kiss at 12 but that is not something I would do. Yes NYE ranks up there with Valentine's Day.  Holiday's where you are reminded that if you do not have plans or a significant other, you can feel like a big loser.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Years Eve is a holiday that is over rated.  If you don't do anything on NYE and especially if you have no options of anything to do, it can be depressing.  Luckily that has never happened to me.  I always end up doing something even though I know it will not be worth all the money, headaches, etc. that comes along with it.  If you end up going to a bar, expect to pay a hefty cover for a champagne toast which you may not even receive because the place is too crowded.  By the time 12:00 comes, you probably can not find everyone you came with and it can be exhausting making sure you meet up with the group around that time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could go to some fancy function where you have to dress up, spend too much money all for a few drinks, gross food, and to hear some band. This is what I did this year.  I had 3 water downed vodka drinks, no food but I did manage to dance a couple of songs on the overcrowded dance floor.  The majority of the crowd was 20-24 and so yet again I was reminded that I am not as young as I used to be.  The time I did get to dance, I was also reminded of the fact that I should not dance in public.  I have had several people tell me that I can't dance and no matter how many times I hear this, it never stops me from trying to dance anyway.  Well dancing was hard because I would spill a drink, get my feet stepped on and I was constantly bumping into someone else.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best NYE's are when you go to someone's house with a bunch of friends and avoid all of that nonsense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valentine's Day is the absolute worst holiday.  Every year, I see the flower deliver guy come several times that day but never to my desk.  It is like a contest.  One year I got to the point where I was going to act like Cher from Clueless and send flowers to myself.  I told my mom this and every year my step father sends me flowers from a secret admirer.  So I am so pathetic that my family I get things from my family.  All because I want flowers delivered to me, but not the other stuff that comes with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even when I have had a boyfriend over Valentine's Day, I am always disappointed.  It is never what I expected.  Valentine's Day is around the sametime as the Southeastern Wildlife Expo.  One ex boyfriend wanted to go eat wild game for V-D with another one of his friends.  He wanted to go do this and had to ask me since it was Valentine's Day, not that I wanted to eat some animal that I never heard of.  I ended up breaking up with him only to get back together a couple of days later after he promised to have a special V-D the next year.  That was one of the only promises he kept in the 4 years of dating him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that you should not have a certain day to celebrate with your friends or show a significant other how special you are to them.  This is what you should do every day.  You should always strive to improve yourself and not just wait until a new year.  Even though I will have New Year's resolutions, they will be the same things I worked on the year before.  Hopefully this year, I will grow up even more, learn new things and become a better person (more reliable) but I am sure it will also be full of mistakes, misadventures and other obsticles that make me the person I am today and a better person tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-8155772701425791075?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8155772701425791075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=8155772701425791075' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8155772701425791075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/8155772701425791075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-years-eve.html' title='New Year&apos;s Eve'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R30O3V1fz1I/AAAAAAAAAGc/EkumVV8kQww/s72-c/New+Year%27s+Eve.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-6899630844667561091</id><published>2007-12-27T15:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:29:56.439-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trust'/><title type='text'>I have to keep bringing up old issues</title><content type='html'>I recently went through my blog and made some blogs that were previously posted drafts. I accidentally gave my blog address to a guy I talked about in one of my blogs. Oops, that is definitely an Anne thing to do. So I frantically went through previous posts and changed them so some of them could not be viewed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the posts I wrote was about "Who Can You Trust." I posted it again because it is something I just can't let go of. Trust is a huge virtue and is necessary for any close friendship. It is also extremely difficult to regain once you lose your ability to trust someone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been in a quoting mood so here are some that I came across.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To be trusted is a greater compliment than to be loved"&lt;/em&gt; GEORGE MACDONALD: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"He who permits himself to tell a lie once, finds it much easier to do it a second and third time, till at length it becomes habitual"&lt;/em&gt; THOMAS JEFFERSON: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"In order to be profoundly dishonest, a person must have one of two qualities: either he is unscrupulously ambitious, or he is unswervingly egocentric."&lt;/em&gt; MAYA ANGELOU&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my favorite one because if someone is still not truthful and could care less about having such a good quality at least remember this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Always tell the truth. That way, you don't have to remember what you said."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MARK TWAIN: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know some people might argue that I am not the most truthful person in the world. But I admit that I have been wrong but that is what I thought needed to be done. I have to admit that I have not told the whole story (left out details) or told a little white lie occassionally, but I strive to tell the truth all the time. I actually can not lie. People can always tell when I try and cover something up. Usually when I tell these fibs it is when someone is asking personal details or making assumptions about something personal that I would rather not get into. I don't think I ever come out and just lie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't see the point in it. Plus I can not do it so it has become a habit to always tell the truth. I am extremely gullible so I believe everything and when I start to not know what is true or false then I have a problem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why am I bringing this up again. I guess it is because I caught someone in a lie and I really don't understand why. It is not the first time I caught him lying but I have several times. I have to agree with Thomas Jefferson, if it becomes a habit to lie because it gets easier each time you do it. My problem is why. It is not like the lie was to protect my feelings and I don't think it was to cover up from doing anything to break a trust, so what's the point? I guess I have to trust it is not because of those things, but who knows that is me trusting a person that has lied. I actually do believe and think that he is sincere but can someone tell me what is the point in bullshitting. For example if you went to dinner at Wendy's why would you lie and say you went somewhere else? I am baffled and so I hope someone can fill me in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have had this feeling before he made a stupid mistake so I found out he told a fib that it is becoming more and more difficult to believe some things that this person says. So to paraphrase one of my favorite songs by Dave Matthews 'I've been having a creeping suspision that things are not what they seem. Reassure me why do I feel as if I'm in too deep.' I love that song because well I just do. So when trust someone you become vulnerable. You are letting that person in. So if you have not read my previous blog about trust feel free. I did say at the end "I learned a valuable lesson. Be careful who you let in and trust with your secrets. You never know if the person you trusted is just playing a part." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So did I actually learn a lesson? I don't know, I think I generally think people mean well and I can't help but believe that the person that lied to be just did it out of habit. I believe that he means well and is sincere, but is just an idiot to even tell stupid lies. Not that people should lie if they did something they should. I will say if I continue to have people be dishonest then I will not be able to have a true relationship or friendship with that person. You have to be able to trust any friendship or relationship or else it is doomed. That is what makes the foundation and it is just not fun to have any mistrust. I would rather be able to have fun, stay out late with friends, and know that I people trust me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom gave me this philosphy. When I was in high school we had a mutual understanding that if I told her the truth of where I was, she would not tell anyone's parents or get anyone else in trouble. She knew people go to whoever's house that had parents out of town, but knowing where I was and being honest was far more valuable. I could go and tell her where I was, what I was doing, and I knew she would keep her mouth shut. We had a mutual respect for each other and that is how I think things should be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-6899630844667561091?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6899630844667561091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=6899630844667561091' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6899630844667561091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6899630844667561091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-have-to-keep-bringing-up-old-issues.html' title='I have to keep bringing up old issues'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-6670033771535285333</id><published>2007-12-20T23:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:30:10.700-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Communication'/><title type='text'>Over "Anne" alizing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R3KKWl1fz0I/AAAAAAAAAGU/7f7oieMrOH8/s1600-h/001+(2).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R3KKWl1fz0I/AAAAAAAAAGU/7f7oieMrOH8/s200/001+(2).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148329444756148034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is what the new term my friend called it. Not over analyzing but over "anne-alyzing". I am a very analytical person and sometimes that causes me some trouble. I question everything and that is what makes me smart in some aspects in life but in others I need to just let things be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I went to a Christmas party and hung out with some girlfriends and had a great time. I felt like myself and recently I have not been feeling that way. I have been the same way for so long and to change is a difficult thing. It was great hanging out with some people in Charlotte and Christmas parties can always be fun. I have been taking it easy and I am now in the mood to socialize. It is getting close to the New Year and that is always a reason to party. Here is a picture from the party with me and my dorky antlers. Everyone was wearing tacky Christmas sweaters so I picked these off the table so I could at least look festive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-6670033771535285333?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6670033771535285333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=6670033771535285333' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6670033771535285333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6670033771535285333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2007/12/over-anne-alizing.html' title='Over &quot;Anne&quot; alizing'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R3KKWl1fz0I/AAAAAAAAAGU/7f7oieMrOH8/s72-c/001+(2).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-5719122841028598624</id><published>2007-12-20T11:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:30:35.240-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><title type='text'>Reality Bites</title><content type='html'>I used to love this movie and I still do. I am a movie person and sometimes I think things should be the way it is in the movies. That is not reality and reality bites. I had a friend come over because she broke up with her boyfriend. It was a long time coming and even though she will be better off, it is always hard to let go even if you know it is for the best. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was not the one for her, but some people including myself, have stayed with a person even if you don't see a long standing future because you like having someone there. It sucks sometimes letting go. Realizing that maybe the person you are with is Mr. Right now. This is when reality comes into play. I don't like thinking of the future. Take things one day at a time. So I am a little different from most girls because I am not looking for anything other than that. Being with someone you enjoy, have fun with and respects you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live for the movies. I believe that you may fight being or facing wanting to be with someone, but when things are right you break the rules. I keep hearing the U2 song from the soundtrack of "Reality Bites" "All I want is You". The guy in the movie has never been serious or cared deeply about someone and then realizes that he wants his best friend, etc. I like the song because someone can promise anything, say they will buy you anything, do anything for you, etc. But what I think all those things do not matter. Well especially the materialistic things. I think being there for someone does matter, but what matters the most and the only thing that should matter is wanting to be with that person. When you do not feel that, then no materialistic thing, comfort of having someone, nice dinners, jewelry can replace the feeling of wanting to be with someone. Once you lost that or never had it, then it is time to re-examine some things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone can give you everything, promise the world but the only thing that ever matters in the long run is whether it is those things that matter or just wanting to be with the person. Someone respecting you, listening to your opinions (even if they disagree), caring for what matters to the other person is what makes a relationship last. I like to make people I care about feel happy. When you start feeling bad about it or not appreciated, then does that person care. I think that is the advice I will give my friend and it is the advice I try to follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I read this and I think every girl should think about this before assuming they are in a lasting relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Don't rely on someone else for your happiness and self worth. Only you can be responsible for that. If you can't love and respect yourself - no one else will be able to make that happen. Accept who you are - completely; the good and the bad - and make changes as YOU see fit - not because you think someone else wants you to be different.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Stacey Charter&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-5719122841028598624?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/5719122841028598624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=5719122841028598624' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/5719122841028598624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/5719122841028598624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2007/12/reality-bites.html' title='Reality Bites'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-5530421822433983604</id><published>2007-12-19T15:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:30:48.721-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Quotes'/><title type='text'>Quote of the Week</title><content type='html'>"It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better.  The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes short again and again, who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause, who at best knows achievement and who at the worst if he fails at least fails while daring greatly so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."  &lt;strong&gt;Theodore Roosevelt&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-5530421822433983604?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/5530421822433983604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=5530421822433983604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/5530421822433983604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/5530421822433983604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2007/12/quote-of-week.html' title='Quote of the Week'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-4296140071168055836</id><published>2007-12-19T14:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:31:41.578-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>The Most Glorious Time of the Year</title><content type='html'>So it is Christmas time which has been fun for a shopoholic but not for my bank account.  Christmas for a shopoholic is like a bar for an alcoholic.  You are so tempted.  I make the excuse that I have to go shopping for Christmas presents, but somehow I end up in upscale clothing boutique's which have nothing to do with shopping for anyone other than myself.  But I need a new outfit for the Christmas party, New Year's, etc.  It has been bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave a Christmas party and of course I bought everything I could think of.  It was fun but boy I do not know how to say no.  So where does this leave me?  A bunch of stuff that I have nothing to do with now.  I also like to get things for my employee's $25 here, $30 for that... it adds up.  So I don't just spend for me but I do participate in the giving of Christmas... maybe a little too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with an empty pocket and Christmas is almost here, I can not wait until the New Year.  New Year's Resolution #1- control my spending habitsm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-4296140071168055836?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/4296140071168055836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=4296140071168055836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4296140071168055836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4296140071168055836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2007/12/most-glorious-time-of-year.html' title='The Most Glorious Time of the Year'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-7285895088040948154</id><published>2007-12-03T16:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:32:01.974-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Changes'/><title type='text'>Changes</title><content type='html'>Man I just wrote a book about this topic and the thing did not save.  Let me start over.  I have talked about making some changes in my life, not going out as much, being good, talking more to my girlfriends etc.  Well some changes are hard to do and take some times.  This song and words have been on my mind recently, "I hope you know.. it has nothing to do with you, It's personal myself and I... but I'm going to miss you like a child misses a blanket... but I have got to move on with my life, time to be a big girl now."  Changes are scary and hard to do.  It is so easy to continue to do what is comfortable, but I have decided that in order to figure things out, there are some things I need to let go of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have talked about not wanting a relationship because I am trying to figure things out.  That is true, but maybe part of figuring things out is trying something new.  Should I push someone aside because I am so stubburn and don't want to meet anyone because I don't really know what I want, I need to be more independent, and I am a mess sometimes.  What if I never know what I want and it is part of my personality and I can be a mess because it is me.  I still need to learn some things but I can do that.  Oh well, I have to learn and make some changes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is something that will never change about me.  I can not stand women that go looking for someone.  It is like they need someone to pay for them and then they get married.  They don't want to work.  I think people should be self-supportive.  I feel there is too much still in the corporate world about women and it is still a man's world.  These women or girls because they are usually the ones that marry after college, make things harder for us.  Why can't they be a business owner, lawyer, run a company, etc.  There are a lot of women that do that, but the ones that are looking to get out of having a career makes me sad.  When I was taking a test for my job a lot of people did not think I could do it, whether it was co workers, family or friends.  I was just a pretty face (not to say I think I am pretty but women in general). I remember my sister telling me I should be a make-up artist.  She has a masters in engineering and is now a stay at home mom.  Women use your brains and not think that if you marry some rich man you will be taken care of.  I think my job is very important to me.  Almost more important than anything else in my life.  I was on the flip side working weekends and making no time for myself.  There is a balance and that is what I am trying to figure out.  But I know I can do whatever I want and will strive to be the best at what I do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-7285895088040948154?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7285895088040948154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=7285895088040948154' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7285895088040948154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7285895088040948154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2007/12/changes.html' title='Changes'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-6282989192571161075</id><published>2007-12-03T16:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:32:36.956-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blunders'/><title type='text'>Another Anne Blunder</title><content type='html'>I make this short and sweet.  I have sent emails to the person I was talking about in the email.  I have emailed something that took them to my personal blog that talks about them.  Last weekend I called someone the wrong name.  I knew the person well and can not believe I did this.  Usually when I see someone I don't say their names because I am so scared I will say the wrong name.  I don't know why I decided to say their name this time.  I did not say peoples names for a reason and the one time I do, look what happens.  Great Anne another blunder.  You would think I do these things on purpose&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-6282989192571161075?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6282989192571161075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=6282989192571161075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6282989192571161075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/6282989192571161075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2007/12/another-anne-blunder.html' title='Another Anne Blunder'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-962625641921152907</id><published>2007-11-30T15:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:33:05.464-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friendship'/><title type='text'>How Sweet it is to be a Friend of Anne</title><content type='html'>I went out to dinner a couple of weeks ago with one of my Charleston friends Katie. One person said that they don't know me anymore. I disagree, she knows me more than a lot of people and opened my eyes to a lot of things the good, the bad and the ugly. You see she was a previous chosen one. A person that I feel is my best friend and put a lot of demands on.  As she told me last night it is not fun to be the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;chosen&lt;/span&gt; one.  I tend to act one way towards them and another to everyone else.  I guess I am kind of mean and by doing this I push them away and I am not fun to be around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Katie was the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;chosen&lt;/span&gt; one I was mean like I told you and pushed her away.  But she is a good friend of mine and now we can be normal.  I hope I am no longer mean to her and take things out on her.  I am just happy that she continued to be my friend even though I have put her through a lot.  So she knows me and now I can finally see what I do and make some changes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One other thing she said is I always have people do things for me.  I don't mean to they just alway have.  I tried to change my flat tire by myself the other day, but then someone came and helped me.  I can do a lot of things on my own, but I have people that are always wanting to push me along.  So maybe it is easier for a guy to set my new TV up, but I just never try and do it myself.  I need to do things on my own.  I know I have a lot of misadventures but there is always someone there to help me out.  Even though it sounds harsh but she made me aware that it is time to grow up.  To take responsibility and to learn how to handle things on my own and stop depending on someone else to make things right.  Okay this maybe hard since I am now 30 and have never really depended on myself to get myself out of binds.  I take that back, I actually backpacked across Europe and had to learn how to do a lot of things for myself (with some help from my cousin). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was great talking to you last night Katie....  I know we will always be friends and I hope to be there for you someday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eleanor Roosevelt said, "You must do the thing you think you cannot do."  I must go through my misadventures and try and get through them myself.  I can do it, I just have never really tried.  So wish me luck and there maybe some things that I make a mess of things, but that is the best part of the journey.  Knowing you were able to get out of it.  So even though I am going on this path of discovery alone, I still need my friends because friends are so valuable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-962625641921152907?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/962625641921152907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=962625641921152907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/962625641921152907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/962625641921152907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2007/11/how-sweet-it-is-to-be-friend-of-anne_30.html' title='How Sweet it is to be a Friend of Anne'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-4840761307119406429</id><published>2007-11-30T15:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:33:20.537-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blunders'/><title type='text'>Another Brilliant Anne Idea</title><content type='html'>Sometimes at night I get these brilliant ideas to do that I regret the next day.  Whether it is a late night phone call, read a whole book, work all night on a myspace page revealing too much information that I had to delete it.  You can get the picture.  I am an insomniac and I used to take sleeping pills but those don't help much.  One time after taking a sleeping pill, I woke up in the middle of the night and cooked a steak and shrimp dinner.  I woke up to the smell of shrimp and all of these dishes I used for cooking.  Did not remember that I did all of that, so I am off the sleeping pills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get bored at night so the other night I went to the mall right before it closed.  I bought this spray tanner which I have never have done myself.  So late last night around 12 or 1, I broke out the tanner.  I don't know how to do this and I am definately not one to even attempt to do this on my own.  I did not think that I had plans this weekend or that maybe it is not a time to be experimenting.  Can you imagine looking all orange and streaking and showing up.  Hello Anne or fake tan Anne.  I kept on spraying more and more, I was getting frustrated and I just could not get it right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I show up to work and everyone is commenting on my tan.  It's not that bad Pocahontas.  Wow you look old was another comment.  Those that tried to be nice just said it's not bad, you can try and blend it with foundation.  Not one person said it looked good.  So what am I going to do.  I am going out with a guy tonight and I will show up looking like cheap tan gone bad.  I can smell the tanning spray even though I took a long bath and tried to get it off.  The smell remains.  The palms of my hands are orange.  They look dirty.  So I will have my hands in my pocket all night.  HELP!!!  Why do I do things like this.  I do it all the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-4840761307119406429?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/4840761307119406429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=4840761307119406429' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4840761307119406429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/4840761307119406429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2007/11/another-brilliant-anne-idea.html' title='Another Brilliant Anne Idea'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8648226371262090923.post-7131915575422129684</id><published>2007-11-27T16:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T10:33:49.084-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sports (Football)'/><title type='text'>Carolina/Clemson</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R07TQk_uTXI/AAAAAAAAAGI/yZEZ9lYhgeA/s1600-h/the+kick.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R07TQk_uTXI/AAAAAAAAAGI/yZEZ9lYhgeA/s200/the+kick.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138276506638634354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R07PrE_uTWI/AAAAAAAAAGA/x8lDMTnRvP0/s1600-h/Carolina+Game.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R07PrE_uTWI/AAAAAAAAAGA/x8lDMTnRvP0/s320/Carolina+Game.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138272563858656610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was excited and sad about going to the Carolina/Clemson game.  This game is the ending of a season.  I have to wait another year to hear my favorite sound 2001 as the Gamecocks enter Williams Brice Stadium.  I was lucky enough to go to a couple of games, but now it is over.  What started in excitement at one point being ranked as #6 in the country ended in a losing streak.  So I have to say what I say every year is next year we will be great.  I think there is a chicken curse because if we ended the season with Steve Spurrier and still had all those turnovers, then how can we possible ever be the best.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game was a lot of fun, tailgating and all which made up for a dissapointing night.  At least it was a close game and we did not get crushed but sometimes those close games are worse.  We almost beat Clemson, last year we almost beat Florida.  Well a win is a win and this counts as a loss.  I went with a Clemson fan which is taboo in my family.  Carolina/Clemson is like the Capulets and the Montagues, you can't cross over to the other side.  So even though I did the unmentionable and went with a Clemson fan, I still managed to have fun.  I tried to tune out his comments about Clemson because in my heart I am a Gamecock and I proud of that fact.  We are true believers and not fair weather fans.  We stick by our team and hope when you have no more hope left.  Each year I come back and get excited for the season.  There is always basketball and next year.  At least I am not a Clemson fan.  Orange is such a terrible color.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8648226371262090923-7131915575422129684?l=amsingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7131915575422129684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8648226371262090923&amp;postID=7131915575422129684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7131915575422129684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8648226371262090923/posts/default/7131915575422129684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amsingle.blogspot.com/2007/11/carolinaclemson.html' title='Carolina/Clemson'/><author><name>AnnieMac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01745851588587026232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/S8dBRMKoywI/AAAAAAAAAkc/Gal8TH2gxaU/S220/EMMASELLAPHOTO037%5B1%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_J41rnW7kjvw/R07TQk_uTXI/AAAAAAAAAGI/yZEZ9lYhgeA/s72-c/the+kick.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
