tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73379185807368636702024-02-20T20:27:59.773-08:00In My World..."In my world, everyone's a pony, and they all eat rainbows and poop butterflies." -Horton Hears a Who.
Well...welcome to my world.Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-89356701508761314452013-08-17T10:43:00.001-07:002013-08-17T10:43:08.136-07:00Our First House!<span style="font-size: large;">We moved in at the end of May/beginning of June, but I didn't want to take pictures until it actually looked like a house and not a storage locker. And then we went on vacation for almost a month. So now we finally have pictures of our first house! YEAH!!!</span><br />
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This is our family/front room (great view through that window)</div>
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I love our kitchen! The previous owners had done a lot</div>
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of nice updates (tile floor, back splash, the island)</div>
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This is the downstairs family room, known as "The Man Cave"</div>
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Cory made this BIG screen (129 inches) on the wall;</div>
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movies are AWESOME on this!</div>
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Laundry room with our dancing washing machine</div>
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Little half bathroom off the laundry room</div>
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First bedroom, which for right now is a storage room.</div>
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Guest bedroom</div>
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Upstairs bathroom (will probably be the</div>
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"kids bathroom" in the future)</div>
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Master bedroom (with Lacy's dog bed that she never</div>
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sleeps on)</div>
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Master bath</div>
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My big closet</div>
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Cory's man-size closet</div>
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Our backyard</div>
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Front of house</div>
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Kind of fun to have the corner lot, but all the landscaping</div>
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is weed central.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-14161562232016556212013-06-16T22:14:00.003-07:002013-06-16T22:16:36.017-07:00Acoustic Sweet Spot<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The other night, Cory and I went out to dinner, and were surrounded by other couples, many who appeared to be on first or second dates. Watching the lovely awkward-ness unfold, we got joking about our worst first date stories. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I don't mean to brag...but I won.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I won't go into all the fun details, but one of the highlights of the night was we went to see an old Buster Keaton movie. My date insisted that we get there early to get "the best seats." We got them and then he showed me why these were best; something to do with the sound hitting it just right. Kind of interesting...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">...except...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">...Buster Keaton films...are silent films...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This guy got the "acoustic sweet spot"</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">for a silent film...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I won...and lost.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(jump to 32 seconds to learn about Acoustic Sweet Spots)</span></div>
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<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://img.youtube.com/vi/ths4_LGhjo4/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://youtube.googleapis.com/v/ths4_LGhjo4&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://youtube.googleapis.com/v/ths4_LGhjo4&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
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Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-59564634544610461872013-05-16T18:59:00.000-07:002013-05-16T18:59:33.856-07:00Famous Last Word<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I really did bring this on myself...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Just the other day on our class field trip, I was talking with some of the parents from my class and joking about students and the crazy things kids do. After telling a few of my favorites, I told the parents that since I've been at the same school, teaching the same grade, for so long "that it takes a lot to surprise or shock me these days."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Should have known better!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> (A little background is needed for this next part. At my school, we teach ability math, where students are taught math not based on their grade level, but their individual math level. My math class is made up of 6 kids from my regular class, 6 other second graders, and 8 first graders.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The VERY NEXT DAY is was in my classroom teaching math. As the students were working, I was walking around the room, checking their work. On one lap, I notice something on the floor next to a student's feet. I discretely picked it up, only to discover that it was </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #ffd966; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b>UNDERWEAR</b></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://us.123rf.com/400wm/400/400/cthoman/cthoman1005/cthoman100500067/6940373-a-cartoon-pair-of-underwear-happy-and-smiling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="http://us.123rf.com/400wm/400/400/cthoman/cthoman1005/cthoman100500067/6940373-a-cartoon-pair-of-underwear-happy-and-smiling.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Words can not even begin to describe the thoughts flying through my brain. And the best part is...the said undies were never claimed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Open mouth, insert foot...I can still be very much surprised!</span></div>
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Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-31537102795881531212013-01-01T16:31:00.000-08:002013-01-01T16:31:09.141-08:00Small Miracles for Little Girls<span style="font-size: large;">Cory and I spent Christmas with my family in New Jersey. One of my favorite parts is hanging around with my awesome nieces and nephews. On December 23, Alison (my sister-in-law) turned to her little girl Lydia (3) and said, "Tomorrow's Christmas Eve...know what that means?" We were all expecting something about Santa but this cutie-pie caught us all off guard by saying, in a sweet little girl, excited whisper, "It's going to snow!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">White Christmases are a rarity in New Jersey, and there was absolutely no snow in the forecast. We were worried that she was going to be disappointed. But sure enough, the next night, right after dinner, the snow started to fall. It only lasted about an hour or two and didn't amount to anything, but I got to carry her outside (no shoes) so we could catch some snowflakes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lesson learned: Never doubt a little girls dream. :)</span></div>
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Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-44305525540884108382012-12-21T19:35:00.000-08:002012-12-21T19:35:05.418-08:00Out of the Club<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I attended a wedding tonight and for the first time ever </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">didn't have to be involved in the bouquet toss!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Didn't have to toss it!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Didn't have to have to try and catch it!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Didn't have to get knocked to the ground by the crazies!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yes, I did a little happy dance. :)</span></div>
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<a href="http://charlieneumannchronicles.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/snoopy_dancing_by_jessie4508.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://charlieneumannchronicles.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/snoopy_dancing_by_jessie4508.jpeg" width="245" /></a></div>
Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-48486550952977250602012-10-10T18:19:00.000-07:002012-10-10T18:19:14.992-07:00Swear Words<span style="font-size: large;">To help my students practice their spelling words, I gave them a word search for their morning work. One of their favorite things to do is to look for words that are not on the word list.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">About 5 minutes into the word search, one of my very sweet boys calls out, "Mrs. Dodge...there's a swear word on here."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">PANIC MODE!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To try to put out the fire as quick as possible, I just told him to not circle the word, or show anyone, and look for his other words.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqQeJeIuf5Ulh0GrZIErmA8Wr2k-eQLcikFiSjEmtv5EpeF-MSMEif3oa-pLOff4eCIIv63wktY_VXoZi8rWo1His9Cs1Lk5qYsxNFWHO6D1qNLPf7pesyOOW-JTaDEKDgHwnj8l3MiOo/s1600/WP_000164.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" nea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqQeJeIuf5Ulh0GrZIErmA8Wr2k-eQLcikFiSjEmtv5EpeF-MSMEif3oa-pLOff4eCIIv63wktY_VXoZi8rWo1His9Cs1Lk5qYsxNFWHO6D1qNLPf7pesyOOW-JTaDEKDgHwnj8l3MiOo/s400/WP_000164.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A minute later, he loudly annouces that, "it's like the worst swear word ever." </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I made this on a teacher website!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2n_rUaIL59kni_ehbwwmTMWPU_h7CDJQjZcVSvAhQ0CwW04S6yXqVJz6WQvn3yK9q7ZqWQjyAPCmRQMnZdzgHzZz0HVGYGPmonOyNXHJf4l22YiYo291i1tK1wC8LihfQWhN81WsAofM/s1600/WP_000167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" nea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2n_rUaIL59kni_ehbwwmTMWPU_h7CDJQjZcVSvAhQ0CwW04S6yXqVJz6WQvn3yK9q7ZqWQjyAPCmRQMnZdzgHzZz0HVGYGPmonOyNXHJf4l22YiYo291i1tK1wC8LihfQWhN81WsAofM/s400/WP_000167.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So I asked him to bring his paper to me and show me the swear word...and he this what he showed me...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Did I mention that I teach in Mormon Utah?</span></div>
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Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-33783817939149402572012-09-28T13:55:00.002-07:002012-09-28T13:55:42.655-07:00They do it because they love me...right?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">For 5 years, my box in the office has said "Miss Bramhall."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One of the lunch ladies pointed out to the secretary that it needed to be changed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She got right on it...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-LxIHqORChDLBXZq5VVSLqzNFUYuX4IrnJOJKiHnd9nfisNnE3rsqbxkMtAxQv_FyJsAeOpXn0yi43deQAXozcW143xLcdy3BLjOZLjuf0NKxq6UBPV-kdnDQjQBPAihQbKsAlk_-aRg/s1600/box.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" kea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-LxIHqORChDLBXZq5VVSLqzNFUYuX4IrnJOJKiHnd9nfisNnE3rsqbxkMtAxQv_FyJsAeOpXn0yi43deQAXozcW143xLcdy3BLjOZLjuf0NKxq6UBPV-kdnDQjQBPAihQbKsAlk_-aRg/s400/box.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We take things very serious at my school. :)</span></div>
Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-67803126838979804652012-09-22T13:44:00.001-07:002012-09-22T13:44:07.738-07:00Oh yeah...and that time I got married...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">Been married almost 2 whole months...figured it was time to blog about it :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Favorite bridal picture</span></div>
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Coming out of the temple</div>
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Yes we are that adorable couple</div>
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It was very sunny that day...lots of squinting</div>
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All our people...yeah...we requested the big room</div>
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My family </div>
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Awesome divas!!!</div>
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Cory's boys</div>
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My personal hottie </div>
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My BIG gorgeous ring...Cory did good!</div>
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We can't remember what we were talking about, but we air-quote together</div>
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My brothers</div>
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(who couldn't understand why I wanted a picture of all of us together)</div>
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PRINCESS PICTURE!!!</div>
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All my ladies</div>
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We don't cut cake like normal people...we destroy it!</div>
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CS Lewis Academy crew</div>
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All the single ladies</div>
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Cory really liked getting the garter...</div>
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...so he got a prize</div>
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These were (seriously) the only single guys at the reception</div>
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First dance</div>
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I had to include this one...</div>
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I've never seen my parents dance together :)</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thanks to everyone who helped, who came, who sent presents, who made it the most perfect wedding day ever!</span></div>
Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-36856668996412006152012-07-23T17:39:00.003-07:002012-07-23T17:42:16.502-07:00Visting JerseyI was looking at other peoples' blogs and whining to myself that they never update their blogs...only to realize that I haven't updated mine in two months...OOPS!<br />
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My family always goes down to the Jersey shore around the 4th of July to enjoy the sun, surf, and boardwalk goodness. This year was even better for multiple reasons:<br />
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1. Picked the world's best blueberries...Mmmm!<br />
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The family rule it that they weigh the blueberries in your bucket at the end...not you. :)<br />
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2. My sister-in-laws threw me a surprise bridal shower. My friend invited me to go out to dinner and part way through, she had an emergency and had to take me home. When we got there, 20 people were there to give me all kinds of good presents. And my mom, being her awesome self, hand decorated wedding cake shaped cookies.<br />
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And this is one of the "not perfect" ones. The best ones even had little icing piping on the edges of the top two tiers.<br />
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Everyone really enjoyed the yummy cake my mom bought...especially the icing.<br />
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3. We went over to the Reading Market in Philadelphia, where you can buy just about anything food related (the Amish sell the best hot apple dumplings with heavy cream).<br />
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Why yes that is a set of chocolate lungs!<br />
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Debated for about 5 minutes on whether or not to get these for Cory.<br />
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4. Cory finally arrived on Monday and everything was just better after that. :)<br />
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5. We ate all the delicious evil food we could get our hands on (cheese steaks, funnel cake, Manco & Manco pizza, Rita's water ice, frozen custard, salt water taffy, fudge, Wawa hoagies). And we ended the week on a high note with Friendly's ice cream.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Good trip!!!</span>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-79438319664108558962012-05-12T14:55:00.001-07:002012-05-12T14:55:09.154-07:00The Engagement Story (Plans A and B)Cory had told me that he had to work Saturday morning, going in at 6 AM, so we called it an early night on Friday. I was actually happy about this because I had a little cold and was really looking forward to sleeping in and then getting some things done while Cory was at work. WRONG!!!<br />
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6 AM: my doorbell is ringing. Cory knows that I'm not a morning person and that I would never hear the doorbell, so he had set it up for my roommate to come wake me up. Carlee came in to wake me up, saying something about being scared to answer the door in the dark by herself. As anyone who knows me can tell you, I am not a happy person first thing in the morning and I hadn't sleep well the night before because of my stuffy nose. As I started to walk down the stairs to answer the door, I said that I was going to kill whoever was ringing the door. I even had the thought that if it was Cory with a ring, I would probably say no.<br />
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When I opened the door, Cory's roommate Mike was standing on my doorstep with flowers (the thought process to figure that fact out took several seconds). Mike said, "You wanna dump your boyfriend and go on a date with me?" I was not amused. Mike (who had been warned about my morning personality) decided to go for the direct route and handed me the flowers. There was a card attached: "Good morning Sweetheart! You have one hour to get ready for a day you won't soon forget! I love you, Cory." <br />
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I am sorry to say, but my first reaction was to yell "Are you kidding me?!?" at Mike. He backed away slowly and said to not kill the messenger. I turned on Carlee with about the same attitude. But of course she just smiled, told me to get ready, and went back to bed. I REALLY wanted to go back to bed. I even called and kind of yelled at Cory, just to make sure that this wasn't some kind of bad joke. He told me to get ready and that he'd see me in an hour.<br />
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So I got showered and ready. It's really weird trying to get dressed when you know you're going to get proposed to; what on earth do you where? I was ready by 7 and waiting for Cory. When he showed up, he was dressed in his nice new suit and looking very handsome. Then much to my surprise, he started apologizing. Turns out that Cory had this whole plan of taking me up in a hot-air balloon (planned for over a month) and at the last minute the balloon guy had to cancel due to wind. To say Cory was crushed is an understatement.<br />
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Since we were both up, we decided to make the best of it and get some breakfast. And Cory wanted to get away from his failure, so we drove up to Park City, mostly just to do something. By the time we were done with breakfast and driving back, we were both tired. Cory was so tired that I had to drive us back through the canyon. We both went home to take naps (and so Cory could try to figure out plan B).<br />
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As part of the day, Cory had set up a massage for me (I had had a REALLY stressful week). Right before I left for my massage, he told me to have a shirt to wear to dinner. My massage was perfect and they even set it up so I got my make-up done by one of the stylists. Not to brag...but I looked HOT!!! :)<br />
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When I got to Cory's, he was dressed up in his suit again. He would not tell me where we were going, except it was going to take us almost an hour to get there. He wouldn't even let me see the GPS on his phone. We ended going out to dinner at La Caille, which is an uber-fancy French restaurant in Sandy. The whole place looks like a French chateau and the waiters and waitresses are dressed up like 18th century French servants. There are even peacocks roaming the grounds.<br />
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The food was AMAZING, especially considering that neither Cory nor I are really big on French food. Finally over dessert, he got out the ring box and asked me to marry him. Since I knew for a while that he was ring shopping and planning, I wasn't surprised and didn't get that emotional. But then the waitress noticed what had just happened and got all excited and asked to see my ring. As other people in the restaurant got excited for me, I started to get really excited to. Especially when I got a better look at the ring. It is absolutely gorgeous! I love it! <br />
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And then my favorite part: I got fireworks (kind of). The waitresses decided that we needed to have some celebration. They brought over a cute pastry with what looked like a silver medal candle sticking out the top. When she lit it, sparks and fireworky things started shooting out the top, almost a foot straight up. It was so cool. So I guess you could call it a good day. :)</div>
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<a href="http://images.weddingclipart.com/images/1/a1641012aa/img_large_watermarked.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dba="true" src="http://images.weddingclipart.com/images/1/a1641012aa/img_large_watermarked.jpg" /></a></div>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-14163475554881999282012-03-17T15:44:00.003-07:002012-03-17T21:54:28.782-07:00Pitfalls of TechnologyI haven't had a land line phone in years, and let's face it, I'm not the only one. We all live and breath by our cell phone. And most of the time this is fine...it's always with you in emergencies, it makes it easy for people to keep in contact with you anywhere, etc.<br /><br /><br />Cell phones are great...until you leave yours at your boyfriends house.<br /><br />It's a fun feeling when you suddenly realize that the little device you depend on more than your own mother is not in your pocket where it is supposed to be.<br /><br />And to make matters even more fun, I was home alone and I couldn't borrow a roommate's phone. And I had to act quickly because Cory was supposed to leave for work in about 30 minutes.<br /><br />So this is how I ended up on my neighbors front porch, asking if I could borrow her phone, much in the way people used to ask a cup of sugar. Luckily she was home and found the whole situation quite funny.<br /><br />So in the end, phone was returned to my pocket and I feel like I'm connected with the world again...at least until my next ditzy moment.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://rlv.zcache.com/everyone_loves_a_dumb_girl_button-p145151378130940987zvhcf_400.jpg" />Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-77683267023972526482012-02-18T15:35:00.001-08:002012-02-18T15:42:53.423-08:00Life's Simple Pleasures #2<div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;">Skinny Mirrors</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://www.internetmonk.com/wp-content/uploads/edward-bear-looking-into-a-mirror-001.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 272px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.internetmonk.com/wp-content/uploads/edward-bear-looking-into-a-mirror-001.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"> Every woman in the world would be a lot happier if there were only skinny mirrors.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">If you have never experienced a skinny mirror, you really should. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">They may be technically lying to you and making you look better that you really do...</span></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">...</span><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">but I'm okay with that kind of lying. :)<br /></span></div><br /><div align="center"></div>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-60563262883469815812012-02-10T20:08:00.000-08:002012-02-10T21:05:54.201-08:00Life's Simple Pleasures: #1<span style="font-size:130%;">Maybe I'm just "special" but I get a small sense of joy and accomplishment watching my wipers and defroster win the battle against the frost/ice on my windshield. </span><br /><br /><a href="http://gretchenaro.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/frosty.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 450px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 341px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://gretchenaro.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/frosty.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">This is probably mostly due to the fact that I hate the cold so much/am too lazy to do a thorough job scarping in the first place. Most of the time, I only seem to get a good one foot square to see through.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">When I'm about 5 minutes from my house, the battle begins. I love when I can see a spot that I know is going to get knocked away by the next swipe of the wiper. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">The really sad part is that I get a little sad and disappointed when the battle is over and there's nothing left for my wipers to do.</span></div>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-46955576636146804102012-02-02T20:47:00.000-08:002012-02-02T21:13:32.947-08:00Creepers in the NightThis story happened a few months ago but it's just too awesome not to tell...enjoy...<br /><br />It's a well know fact in my house that I have what is called "the pharmacy" in my bathroom. One whole (big) drawer of my sink is full of stuff for when you're sick (cold medicine, cough drops, Tylenol, thermometer, etc). This comes from being a teacher of snotty-nosed children that sneeze on you all day: I get sick fairly regularly. Everyone makes fun of the pharmacy...until they need it.<br /><br />Carlee, my cool, former-beauty-queen roommate was not feeling so good one night. In her own words, her "insides wanted to be on her outsides." After suffering through most of the night, she thought that maybe some drugs might help and figured that her hypochondriac roommate (ME) would probably have the right ones.<br /><br />However, by this point it was about 3 AM.<br /><br />Now I need to back up a bit to help set the scene just a little bit better. When I went up to bed around 11 PM, I could see Carlee's door open and her reading light, which gives off an eerie blue/white light, was on. I figured she was reading or had fallen asleep with the light still on. I thought nothing of it, closed my door and went to bed.<br /><br />Back to 3 AM...<br /><br />I wake up in my dark room and can't figure out what woke me up. While trying to sort things out in my half-asleep brain, I notice that my door is open.<br /><br />Another needed point...I never, EVER sleep with my door open, for three reasons:<br />1. To keep out unwanted light and noise.<br />2. If you grow up with brothers, a locked door is your only shoot at keeping them from torturing you.<br />3. I was very of my bedroom in the dark as a child and keeping the door shut was one way to keep Mr. Boogedy (childhood terror from a frickin Disney movie) from getting me.<br /><br />So noticing the open door, I also notice a light coming from down the hall. I got up to investigate and saw that it was Carlee's reading light still shining. I was just making up my mind if I should see if she was okay (or turn her light off for her) when it happened.<br /><br />From the dark bathroom behind me, I hear in the creepiest, whispery, sickly little girl voice, "...<span style="font-size:78%;">Cindy</span>?"<br /><br />My ninja-jumping-spin-preparing-for-battle-but also-hanging-onto-the-doorframe-for-dear-life move was quite impressive.<br /><br />Carlee had decided it would be better to not wake me and just "quietly" go through my medicine drawer.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">EPIC FAILURE</span></div>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-42726263770583295872012-01-18T15:59:00.000-08:002012-01-18T16:04:49.433-08:00HOW DO YOU KNOW YOU ARE A TEACHER?<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">HOW DO YOU KNOW YOU ARE A TEACHER?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">by Jeff Foxworthy</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">1. You can hear 25 voices behind you and know exactly which one belongs to the child out of line.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">2. You get a secret thrill out of laminating something.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">3. You walk into a store and hear the words "It's Ms/Mr. _____" and know you have been spotted.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">4. You have 25 people that accidentally call you Mom/Dad at one time or another.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">5. You can eat a multi-course meal in under twenty minutes.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">6. You've trained yourself to go to the bathroom at two distinct times of the day: lunch and planning period.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">7. You start saving other people's trash, because most likely, you can use that toilet paper tube or plastic butter tub for something in the classroom.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">8. You believe the teachers' lounge should be equipped with a margarita machine.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">9. You want to slap the next person who says "Must be nice to work 8 to 3 and have summers off."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">10. You believe chocolate is a food group.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">11. You can tell if it's a full moon without ever looking outside.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">12. You believe that unspeakable evils will befall you if anyone says "Boy, the kids sure are mellow today."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">13. You feel the urge to talk to strange children and correct their behavior when you are out in public.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">14. You believe in aerial spraying of Ritalin.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">15. You think caffeine should be available in intravenous form.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">16. You spend more money on school stuff than you do on your own needs.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">17. You can't pass the school supply aisle without getting at least five items!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">18. You ask your friends if the left hand turn he just made was a "good choice or a bad choice."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">19. You find true beauty in a can full of perfectly sharpened pencils.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">20. You are secretly addicted to hand sanitizer.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">21. You understand instantaneously why a child behaves a certain way after meeting his or her parents.</span>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-16031840698109697192011-12-17T09:56:00.000-08:002011-12-17T10:06:22.603-08:00Dealing with the Technology Generation<div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">I've gotten pretty used to explaining "older" technology to my second graders, with each year getting worse.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">I've explained those square things that we used to put into our computers...</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 188px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 124px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggHkdym1D8N0Adh2lpcjZYc1zYvhF4kqf_REqC7b89qn67QhAbLqIOAAehn9w1mgP0SKk2s_HkWQy29JCGESMmf5o01ov81tj7Tkp_4dq5YIy8dNGgL5MV7xCyrLUl9Au1I3GZV-mlAQlY/s1600/Floppy-Disc.jpg" /></span> <span style="font-size:180%;">I've explained what that curly thing coming off that old phone did...</span><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 198px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 176px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://mond.own.cz/blender/phonecabel/blue-phone.jpg" /></div></div><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">But I was not ready for this one. My students were completing a Christmas crossword puzzle and I thought I had gone over all the "tricky" clues. </span></p><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">The clue for 15 Across (six letters) reads: "You might mail Santa one of these."</span></p><br /><p align="center"></p><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">More than half of my students wrote:</span></p><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">e-mail</span></p>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-33548446895154493282011-12-01T15:50:00.000-08:002011-12-01T16:02:30.465-08:00Nightmare<a href="http://images.fungopher.com/a/E/m/aEmNqIIVb/I-had-a-bad-dream-can-I-sleeps-wiv-you.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 530px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 398px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://images.fungopher.com/a/E/m/aEmNqIIVb/I-had-a-bad-dream-can-I-sleeps-wiv-you.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>You can ask most teachers and they can tell you about "back-to-school" nightmares. Mine usually involve scary parents, destroyed classrooms, or huge 15-year-old students in my second grade class. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>But all my dreams had one thing in common: I didn't actually know any of the people in them. When I have my class dreams, the kids have always just been random dream-children. Well...not anymore. I had the craziest dream about my class that I am teaching right now and it was unbelievably vivid. If you haven't heard, I only have 17 students in my class this year and they ROCK! They are smart, well-behaved kids and I love them.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Not so in my dream!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>They were EVIL!!! They just seemed to hate me and were trying to make me made. I was yelling and screaming at them and they just ignored me. The part that I can not get out of my head is that I was yelling at one of my little girls, right in her face. She turned to face me and bit my cheek, hard enough to rip the skin!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>This is when I woke up with my heart pounding. And I know perfectly well that it was just a dream, but when that little girl walked into class to day, my heart skipped a beat. :)</div>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-50679252788342144982011-11-08T18:16:00.000-08:002011-11-08T18:17:25.758-08:00Love your teachers<span style="font-size:130%;">This has been floating around Facebook: </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Teachers' hefty salaries are driving up taxes, and they only work 9 or 10 months a year! It's time we put things in perspective and pay them for what they do - babysit! We can get that for less than minimum wage. That's right. Let's give them $3.00 an hour and only the hours they worked; not any of that silly planning time, or any time they spend before or after school. That ...would be $19.50 a d...ay (7:45 to 3:00 PM with 45 min. off for lunch and plan-- that equals 6 1/2 hours). Each parent should pay $19.50 a day for these teachers to baby-sit their children. Now how many students do they teach in a day...maybe 30? So that's $19.50 x 30 = $585.00 a day. However, remember they only work 180 days a year!!! I am not going to pay them for any vacations. LET'S SEE.... That's $585 X 180= $105,300 per year. (Hold on! My calculator needs new batteries).What about those special education teachers and the ones with Master's degrees? Well, we could pay them minimum wage ($7.75), and just to be fair, round it off to $8.00 an hour. That would be $8 X 6 1/2 hours X 30 children X 180 days = $280,800 per year. Wait a minute -- there's something wrong here! There sure is! The average teacher's salary (nationwide) is $50,000. $50,000/180 days = $277.77/per day/30 students=$9.25/6.5 hours = $1.42 per hour per student--a very inexpensive baby-sitter and they even EDUCATE your kids!) WHAT A DEAL!!!! Heaven forbid we take into account highly qualified teachers or NCLB... Make a teacher smile :)</span>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-27238328166149153012011-11-02T17:52:00.001-07:002011-11-02T18:05:12.194-07:00How to Have a Truly Crap-tacular Day<span style="font-size:130%;">1. Run late getting ready in the morning.<br /><br /></span><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">2. Have car frozen shut, to the point of pulling on the door 3 times to get it to open.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">3. While scraping the frozen windows, have the windshield wiper smack you.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">4. Drive a mile and a half before realizing that the headlights are off.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">5. Have two granny-slow driver on the road, doing 15 under the limit side-by-side.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">6. Work computer being slower than a turtle running uphill in molasses.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">7. Just when you feel like you can handle the rest of the day, kill the power to the entire school/ town.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">8. Try teaching in the dark, but then the power coming back on 50 minutes before you would have been sent home early.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">9. Then find out that the other schools went home early and you didn't.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">10. Don't get to eat lunch because you have recess duty.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">11. Deal with people in Walmart after school.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">12. Stupid boy has to work late tonight.</span></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 282px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGsYcVXyN5-7G36EPqsRecFZ1-NNiFDmGvzQkKc9WMPrzcX5LT1bIdF02i9WLCJE1QOQjovVfHmp4z_kGHdm7ypcIXh7VtZ02iuafbeVZj9xXBgDFZMSPj9xCZ5o_utV-4PCS979k22JvG/s1600/rima-sad-face.jpg" /></div><br /><br /><p align="center">Should have just stayed in bed this morning.</p>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-78956374605967331882011-10-28T15:46:00.000-07:002011-10-29T18:23:06.679-07:00BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!!! (long, but detailed)I love surprises, but have never been completely surprised by anything or anyone...until now. Cory found out that I like surprises and went from there. He started out on this a few weeks ago and told me that he was going to have to work on my birthday. I was disappointed, but didn't want to be whinny about it, so I just figured we do something another time. There was a really small part of me that hoped that this was all a trick or something, but then I dismissed it, thinking that Cory wasn't that smooth/awesome.<br /><br /><div><br /><br /><div>When I told this to my roommate Carlee, she took it upon herself to plan something fun and awesome for my birthday. Unbeknownst to me, Carlee and Cory had been secretly planning behind my back for almost a month. Carlee said she would get a group together and we would go to dinner or something. I figured I would just let her do her thing. The pessimist in me just kept reminding me that plans had fallen threw for my last several birthdays, so I didn't want to get my hopes up.<br /></div><br /><br /><div>So on Wednesday, I hung out with Cory after he was done with school, but nothing was ever said about my birthday. I figured we were just avoiding the topic so that I won't feel bad. I went home that night feeling a little sad, but figured that my birthday could be as happy as I made it. At midnight, my phone rings and Cory is singing "Happy Birthday" to me (I had to ask him about it later because I was so tired and out of it). Then the fun really started.<br /></div><br /><br /><div>Birthday morning started great; when my alarm went off, the radio had on one of my favorite songs and I thought, "This is going to be a good day." We had been doing Red Ribbon week at school and each day had a fun dress theme. Thursday was Red Day, so I had gone to DI and bought red sweatpants, because who doesn't want to wear sweatpants to work on their birthday? So I get all ready to leave for school and head out to my car. I open my garage and Cory is parked in front of my driveway...with flowers. I almost started crying I was so shocked! He didn't have to get up early that morning and he would have had to get up really early to be there. So then I figure this is my birthday surprise since I won't get to see him later in the day.<br /></div><br /><div>I went off to school and one of those great days at work. The kids treated my birthday like a national holiday, I got TONS of chocolate/candy, I got cake, balloons, and cards. It was just a fun day at school. Around lunch time, I get a text from Carlee, saying that she's got a group of 8 people going out for my birthday, and just for fun, we are all going to dress up super fancy. And she had ever put out some of her really nice jewelry for me to borrow (she's a former beauty queen). I was supposed to be dressed and ready to go by 6 PM for dinner and then a dinner at a friend's house after. I thought this just sounded so fun; if I couldn't be with my boyfriend, at least I can have an awesome time, dressed up, with my friends.<br /></div><br /><div>Cory made sure I was still falling for the lies by texting my "from work", complaining about some rude customers. (He is very thorough). Around the same time, Carlee texts me that she's a little behind at work, but will be home in time to go to dinner. So I came home to an empty house and started getting ready. I pulled out by fanciest dress (too fancy even for church), did my make-up, fixed up my hair, and "frosted" myself with Carlee's fabulous jewelry. As I was getting ready, I kept thinking that I should take a picture and send it to Cory so he could see what he was missing out on. At 5:55 PM, I get another text from Carlee: the day has gone horribly, everybody is running late, she has to cover some work thing at 7 PM, so we're have to cancel the whole dinner.<br /></div><br /><div>I think "crushed" and/or "devastated" would best describe my mood at that moment. My first thought was to go put on PJs and be done with the day. But then I decided that I had spent all that time getting all pretty, that I just want to sit and be pretty for a minute, also hoping that maybe one person from this whole group might show up. Just as I was about to give up, the doorbell rang. Thinking that I'll have to tell whoever it is that dinner was canceled.<br /></div><br /><div>When I opened the door, there was Cory, in a suit, with a bouquet of roses! This time, I really did start to cry a little. And he says, "Did Carlee just flake out on you?" I think I was in shock for the next 20 or 30 minutes. All I could keep saying is "I can't believe you did this!" When we get out to his car, I see that he had spent a lot of time completely cleaning his car. He gave me my first present, a book he thought I might like. Then we went out to dinner at a nice restaurant and everyone was asking why we were all dressed up. He even joked during dinner, "No, I'm not going to propose to you tonight."<br /></div><br /><br /><div>After dinner, we went to a show at the Hale Center Theater, "The Marvelous Wonderettes." Going to a show, all dressed up, on the arm of a guy, AWESOME. The show was really cute and we both really enjoyed it. After the show, it was time to head on home. When Cory dropped me off at home, Carlee was home, so we all had a good laugh about everything and she took our picture, because we looked too good not to do pictures.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And then Cory said the a book was not a birthday present, and neither was dinner or the show. He gave me a gift certificate to get an hour long massage. I think he was trying to kill me with happiness. This was two days ago and I have yet to stop smiling. :)</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 246px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669087800699768818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkqpUQqOUcLzhn_YayH0cXw_ff6ztxFsN67V2fqFY_D_tWX4pUQZDD5E8z5m9AHtfK3TBaCNnZC5WReUSTQ3bWZ6NnCpLL0hE0rfZBsUOQLtB0mKvVgdAGVDyx9TYDjMfPnQrb5Bmo74k/s400/011.JPG" /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669087050297385890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBQ7dlaOVOtoGA45Qf1Foy_or_AYnrL2tZNiFxBoJ_fWSVrMODdUh-mFlp19xzQ1BpHXr7s5Q1jSwH32rNMkblF9CLiToTgbv09hkw-Imrrvc_Pej0IssH_uH_tW_3MCpXqg-jGnJLmbU/s400/012.JPG" /></div>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-85585260144371693372011-10-10T17:32:00.000-07:002011-10-10T17:32:20.358-07:00Something like this :)<iframe height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8V8tMK68M7U?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="480" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-49078020354462915092011-09-09T19:58:00.000-07:002011-09-09T20:03:18.574-07:00Oh yeah, and that time I got punched!<div align="center"><a href="http://www.clipartoday.com/_thumbs/014/Punch_tnb.png"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 306px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.clipartoday.com/_thumbs/014/Punch_tnb.png" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"> Got punched yesterday...</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;">...by a first grader...</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;">...it really hurt...</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;">...still not sure why...</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;">...and oh yeah...</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;">...it was in the boob!<br /></span></div><br /><div align="center"></div>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-86784829795645309342011-09-06T18:23:00.000-07:002011-09-06T18:25:17.862-07:00According to my students...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2viLac1BmQqT2tQNXnc8aOVSTX2TL2RTK3ozHbBnUBTxSYiMGOr14O2TGlxoOURDXc2T1b1HSseyY5Ne5pc2JwVEGCcIKspM4wkVwfEGDil_ZPRiswBMWRec4Ly8ODjG_4WGkl4OPIFk/s1600/004.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649422479972308130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2viLac1BmQqT2tQNXnc8aOVSTX2TL2RTK3ozHbBnUBTxSYiMGOr14O2TGlxoOURDXc2T1b1HSseyY5Ne5pc2JwVEGCcIKspM4wkVwfEGDil_ZPRiswBMWRec4Ly8ODjG_4WGkl4OPIFk/s400/004.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcoCESGR7-XHk9lpN0lyLLhoo-DUxO1Y8LHgy5zVmlcZWE3UZgwQ18DWtpWBLGh97nX5mvT3bp8_gzUOzsp1V2SRkcQirAbWPuVvhMDfpxgC1AWgrmMW-Oh4YqOoss_B3XTntMoYD_nVc/s1600/003.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649422476922292674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcoCESGR7-XHk9lpN0lyLLhoo-DUxO1Y8LHgy5zVmlcZWE3UZgwQ18DWtpWBLGh97nX5mvT3bp8_gzUOzsp1V2SRkcQirAbWPuVvhMDfpxgC1AWgrmMW-Oh4YqOoss_B3XTntMoYD_nVc/s400/003.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;">I'm pretty good looking!</span></div>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-40255858102441419422011-08-29T15:56:00.000-07:002011-08-29T16:08:35.795-07:00Out of the Mouth of Babes<div align="center"><a href="http://photos1.fotosearch.com/bthumb/UNN/UNN772/u26063080.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 107px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 170px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://photos1.fotosearch.com/bthumb/UNN/UNN772/u26063080.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">It starts again:</span>
<br />
<br />
<br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:Arial;">Student 1: "Do you have kids?"</span></span>
<br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Me: "Nope."</span>
<br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Student 2: "Do you have a husband?"</span>
<br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Me: "Nope, no husband either."</span>
<br /></div>
<br />
<br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">Student 3: "How can you have a job without a husband?!?"</span></div></div>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337918580736863670.post-77547556430525009192011-08-27T10:22:00.000-07:002011-08-27T10:29:39.231-07:00SWEET!<div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">If you cook for nice boys and send them home with some, they might return it with interest.</span></div>
<br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEico8zgpyqKuRMv-Mx6Tce7lpu8NLlrV5sSMLwlflgqNhzLymU77GKKzOilvyy1RZS3wo3vN0FQnkFdNpUzNGCh3E47IeyKFOeHozrMUlznTrSy6BmDHehhdrOOIF_O_8mqWwMYPsO-AJg/s1600/023.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645588752434743746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEico8zgpyqKuRMv-Mx6Tce7lpu8NLlrV5sSMLwlflgqNhzLymU77GKKzOilvyy1RZS3wo3vN0FQnkFdNpUzNGCh3E47IeyKFOeHozrMUlznTrSy6BmDHehhdrOOIF_O_8mqWwMYPsO-AJg/s320/023.JPG" /></a>
<br />
<br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;">Sweet!</span></div>
<br />Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00495328698338150037noreply@blogger.com0