<?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-7825660</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:17:13.098-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where All My Time Goes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>140</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-114297885705328933</id><published>2006-03-21T16:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-21T16:07:37.066-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gotta Love Her</title><content type='html'>Mom: I was going to call you earlier this afternoon. I don't remember what it was I wanted to tell you. But then I looked at my phone and I only had two little bars on the battery side.&lt;br /&gt;Me: You know you can talk on your phone while it is charging, right?&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Well, yeah. But I was in the car.&lt;br /&gt;Me: You could get a car charger.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: A car charger?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, that you plug into the cigarette lighter.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Hm. Where would I get such a thing?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Best Buy, the cell phone store, Fry's, eBay, lots of places.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: I'm so fortunate to have a daughter as smart as you that knows so many things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, that's right. I'm a genius in my mother's eyes simply because I've heard of these things that you can plug into a power source in your car to charge your cell phone. If only I could get the rest of the world to think such simple things made me so smart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-114297885705328933?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/114297885705328933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=114297885705328933&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/114297885705328933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/114297885705328933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2006/03/gotta-love-her.html' title='Gotta Love Her'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-114228455109627035</id><published>2006-03-13T15:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T15:15:51.106-06:00</updated><title type='text'>All I Ever Wanted</title><content type='html'>Vacation plans are set. We're going to Hilton Head in June - - yippee! Made the plane reservations today and are so, so thrilled to have a free place to stay. It's great to know people that are so generous with their vacation homes. &lt;a href="http://www.spuddybuddy.com/"&gt;Donna&lt;/a&gt; and her lovely husband, &lt;a href="http://www.smackmybooty.com/"&gt;Jake&lt;/a&gt;, will be joining in the fun too.  Some other friends may come play as well, but nobody has told us for sure yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad and his wife arrived back from a week and a half in Spain last Tuesday. Nothing like hearing about their vacation adventures could have gotten me more in gear to make my own plans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need to finalize our flights to Vegas for May and then figure out when we're going to London to visit E. 2006 may be a year of travel after all. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-114228455109627035?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/114228455109627035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=114228455109627035&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/114228455109627035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/114228455109627035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2006/03/all-i-ever-wanted.html' title='All I Ever Wanted'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-114192743166537404</id><published>2006-03-09T12:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T12:03:51.680-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mm Mm Good</title><content type='html'>Someone that sits near me has just popped a bag of popcorn for herself for lunch.  Smells SO good! I think I'll go heat up my leftovers soon.  They won't smell nearly as good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-114192743166537404?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/114192743166537404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=114192743166537404&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/114192743166537404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/114192743166537404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2006/03/mm-mm-good.html' title='Mm Mm Good'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-114175107657709847</id><published>2006-03-07T11:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T14:24:50.336-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Seven</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.spuddybuddy.com/index.cfm?calendarDate=3/3/2006"&gt;Donna&lt;/a&gt; tagged me and I must comply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seven Things I Want to Do Before I Die:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Run a 5K&lt;br /&gt;Be happy with my body&lt;br /&gt;Go to Hawaii&lt;br /&gt;Go to Europe (France, Italy, Spain, Portugal)&lt;br /&gt;Find a reason to smile everyday&lt;br /&gt;Learn how to balance it all&lt;br /&gt;Retire without financial stress&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seven Things I Cannot Do:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Run a Marathon&lt;br /&gt;Make Creme Brule&lt;br /&gt;Think of five more things, even though I'm sure there are many more than just five more.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seven Things That Attract Me to Blogging:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've not been all that attracted to it lately as you might be able to tell by my sparse updates. I like it most for the journaling aspect. But then I realize that I'd be much more open if I truly used it as a journal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seven Things I Say Most Often:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excellent&lt;br /&gt;Thanks&lt;br /&gt;Help me understand (xyz)&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry (I probably say this one too much)&lt;br /&gt;Great&lt;br /&gt;Can I help?&lt;br /&gt;Let me know . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven Books I Love:&lt;br /&gt;Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden&lt;br /&gt;The Famished Road - Ben Okri&lt;br /&gt;The Time Traveler's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger&lt;br /&gt;Around the Bloc - Stephanie Elizondo Griest&lt;br /&gt;The Giving Tree - Shel Silverstein&lt;br /&gt;Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs - Judi &amp;amp; Ron Barrett&lt;br /&gt;The Liar's Club - Mary Carr&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seven Movies I Watch Over and Over Again:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;I don't tend to watch movies over and over. So, I'm listing ones I like a lot, or would watch if they were on TV. I even own a few of them.&lt;br /&gt;Princess Bride&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast Club&lt;br /&gt;Ferris Bueller's Day Off&lt;br /&gt;St. Elmo's Fire&lt;br /&gt;Office Space&lt;br /&gt;Before Sunrise / Before Sunset&lt;br /&gt;Garden State&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seven People I Want to Join In:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha! I don't think seven people read this blog. Anyone who happens to stumble across this and wants to join in, please do. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-114175107657709847?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/114175107657709847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=114175107657709847&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/114175107657709847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/114175107657709847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2006/03/seven.html' title='Seven'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-114124266660807656</id><published>2006-03-01T13:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T13:51:06.653-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Uh oh</title><content type='html'>Help! &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/browse/-/16313891/ref=amb_center-1_160178601_9/103-2181046-3884653"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt; could be very dangerous. Nevermind the fact that I bought two books last week from half.com and have a pile as tall as my nightstand (next to my nightstand) of books to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best thing about traveling so much for work lately has been the time I've had to read on planes and in airports. I finally got around to reading &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/015602943X/qid=1141242495/sr=2-2/ref=pd_bbs_b_2_2/103-2181046-3884653?s=books&amp;v=glance&amp;amp;n=283155"&gt;The Time Traveler's Wife&lt;/a&gt; and loved it. Also just finished the third in Alexander McCall Smith's Lady Detective series.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait for the beach vacation in June to catch up on some more reading.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-114124266660807656?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/114124266660807656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=114124266660807656&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/114124266660807656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/114124266660807656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2006/03/uh-oh.html' title='Uh oh'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-114047114078710041</id><published>2006-02-20T15:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-20T15:32:20.803-06:00</updated><title type='text'>In honor of George and Abe</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;So far this fine Presidents Day, I have: &lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;washed new sheets&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;spent 20 min on the exercise bike as a reminder of just how out of shape I am&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;watched old Medium and Las Vegas on TiVo&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;folded load of laundry left in the dryer last night&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;met a friend for lunch and didn't have anything fried - yea me! &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;eyebrow and bikini wax&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;dropped off boots at the shoe hospital&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;dropped of dry cleaning&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;I still need to: &lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;dust bedroom&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;put new sheets on bed&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;go to the grocery store&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;watch Desperate Housewives on TiVo&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;finish the last 35 pages of the book I'm reading&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;pack for my trip to CT tomorrow - - brr&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;wash the other 3 loads of laundry lining the hallway&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;vacuum&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;put the bikini wax to good use - guess I'll have to wait 'til the HUSband gets home from work to help with that one. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, was today a holiday for you? If so, I hope you enjoyed it. If not, I'm so very sorry. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-114047114078710041?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/114047114078710041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=114047114078710041&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/114047114078710041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/114047114078710041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2006/02/in-honor-of-george-and-abe.html' title='In honor of George and Abe'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-113994324267027877</id><published>2006-02-14T12:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T12:54:02.686-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Yum!</title><content type='html'>The best part of my box lunch today is that the chips are CHEESY POOFS!  That makes up for the fact that I ended up with a roast beef sammich instead of turkey.  Hooray for Cheesy Poofs!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-113994324267027877?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/113994324267027877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=113994324267027877&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113994324267027877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113994324267027877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2006/02/yum.html' title='Yum!'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-113883064803449596</id><published>2006-02-01T15:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T15:50:48.056-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Burping Yogurt</title><content type='html'>I now have spots of mixed berry yogurt on three spot on the front on my sweater and one on my sleeve. I'm not a messy eater and was not involved in a food fight. The foil atop the container burped on me - gross! Must remember to open the pull the foil off so that the yogurt burps on my desk, or monitor, or somewhere else other than on ME and my clothes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-113883064803449596?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/113883064803449596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=113883064803449596&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113883064803449596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113883064803449596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2006/02/burping-yogurt.html' title='Burping Yogurt'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-113840307468910982</id><published>2006-01-27T17:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T17:04:34.703-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I shit you not</title><content type='html'>I just sent this email to one of the people that reports to me. There is apparently a bit of a problem in the ladies' room. Saddest thing is that he tells me they believe they know who is causing the problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Disclaimer: I know that what I'm about to write will not go down in history as one of my most profound nor professional statements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Thank you for the laugh at the end of a long week about plugged toilets. I know it is a real and serious concern, but have to admit that it made me chuckle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I will craft a more appropriate response soon. Hope you have/had a great weekend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-113840307468910982?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/113840307468910982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=113840307468910982&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113840307468910982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113840307468910982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-shit-you-not.html' title='I shit you not'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-113802820342219709</id><published>2006-01-23T08:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-23T13:52:38.116-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange Things</title><content type='html'>Last weekend, I answered the door to find two women nicely dressed holding what appeared to be Bibles. I was ready for some 'Jesus Loves You' line and mentally preparing my response. Instead the one standing closest to me begins by telling me that they're going through the neighborhood and talking to people about all the tragedies happening around the world. What a strange intro. I simply said "I'd rather not talk to you about that" and sent them on their way. I wonder which group they were from and who in the world told them that it would be good to engage people by talking about horrible things happening in the world. It has been a long time since I've been an active church-goer and I don't even know which one I'd go to if I were to take it up again. However, I know that I would want to go to one where the focus was the good stuff in the world... or at least the possibility of good stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-113802820342219709?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/113802820342219709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=113802820342219709&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113802820342219709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113802820342219709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2006/01/strange-things.html' title='Strange Things'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-113656409305153580</id><published>2006-01-06T10:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T10:14:53.063-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Huh?</title><content type='html'>Someone stole our recycle container from the street yesterday before the HUSband got home and was able to secure it safely in the garage.  AND the small garbage can that we put overflow recycling in was stolen too.  You can get a free container from any fire station - - why steal ours? I really don't get it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-113656409305153580?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/113656409305153580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=113656409305153580&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113656409305153580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113656409305153580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2006/01/huh.html' title='Huh?'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-113623400632620445</id><published>2006-01-02T14:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T15:42:11.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflection(s)</title><content type='html'>Happy 2006! I have no idea where 2005 went. Many other bloggers have been re-capping their year month by month, but I don't think I have the energy for that. Some memorable moments include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The best memorial service I've ever been to - - for the HUSband's grandmother. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A touching wedding ceremony of some dear friends. And some crazy fun following the reception complete with the bride on a treadmill in the hotel's fitness center.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A fantastic girls' trip - my first cruise. :) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Loosing a friend. She didn't die, nothing quite so drastic. But we're not friends anymore, and it's still hard.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My family finally organizing a three-generation trip to see the family land in Louisiana only to have our plans squashed by Katrina.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Taking on more responsibility at work, and actually having it noticed and valued.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Being there for a childhood friend as she went through her 2nd divorce. Who woulda thought when we met on the bus in 8th grade that we'd be there for each other all these years later? &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hosting Thanksgiving - using our china for the first time! &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A whirlwind December including two trips to the HUSband's parents, one to my Mom's and hosting my Uncle and Aunt for a week.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I rarely make true resolutions, and share them even more rarely. In 2006, I hope to:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Find and make more time for myself&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;take better care of myself, mentally and physically&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;be a good wife&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;be a good friend&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;be a good daughter (and daughter-in-law)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;be a good granddaughter and treasure my Granny&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;travel more&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Best of luck to you as you make it through each day of this new year as well. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-113623400632620445?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/113623400632620445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=113623400632620445&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113623400632620445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113623400632620445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2006/01/reflections.html' title='Reflection(s)'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-113586783852343403</id><published>2005-12-29T08:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-12-29T08:50:38.533-06:00</updated><title type='text'>question</title><content type='html'>Writing about my uncle making his grandmother's Arroz con Pollo made me think about my readership. Now we all know that I don't have a huge following. I've noticed someone from the town where my great-grandparents once lived checking in every couple of days. Some of the extended family still lives there and much of the fam is still in the general area. So, my question is this: is a member of the Herrero clan reading? I'm dying to know. If not, I'm still curious as to who is stopping by from Sunnyvale. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-113586783852343403?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/113586783852343403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=113586783852343403&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113586783852343403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113586783852343403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/12/question.html' title='question'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-113581043364887181</id><published>2005-12-28T16:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-12-28T16:53:53.696-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Survival</title><content type='html'>A Belated Happy Holidays to you all (ha, as if there are enough folks reading to say "all"). It has been a whirlwind of a month. We left town last Thursday night to go to Dallas to be with my Mom's side of the family. Friday night was the shindig at her house. I had drawn my cousin's daughter's name and she just LOVED the Snow White dress up outfit that I gave her. She even put it on right over her clothes while she finished unwrapping the rest of her presents. Saturday, her husband's side of the family arrived as we were leaving to go to my HUSband's parents' home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived at the in-laws home and had a big meal and opened 1/2 of our gifts on Saturday (as is their custom). That night we went to church with his parents and sis and her husband. It was the one year anniversary of his grandmother's death, so not an easy day. I held it together until the singing of Silent Night at the end of the service with everyone holding candles. Was just crying like a baby and had a hard time explaining why. I think it mostly has to do with missing the innocence of standing between my own two parents at my own church growing up... and knowing that it will never be possible again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway......Sunday morning we opened the other half of the gifts and had a yummy breakfast of Eggs Benedict. I'm picky and don't like eggs when the white and yolk aren't combined, so my egg was scrambled and then put in the poacher thingy. It was sweet of the HUSband and his father to make mine special. Sunday night we went out to the bar in our hometown that we used to go to on a somewhat regular basis. There were some familiar faces and we had a chance to catch up with some old friends. This bar is one that you think never changes, but they've started serving liquor and it even looked like someone might have dusted the ceiling. I guess everything and every place must change at some point. It was still so smokey that I cringed when I took off my clothes to go to bed and again when I picked them up the next morning to pack them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday we finally came back to Austin. But it isn't as simple as it sounds. Sunday, my dad's sister from Baton Rouge and brother from California (and their respective spouses) arrived. Dad's bro has bad knee problems and is staying at our house b/c all of dad's bedrooms are upstairs. I came home to four people hanging out in our office looking at old family photos on the computer. They left soon after we arrived to go back to dad's and give us a bit of relaxation time before we joined them for dinner. More food, more presents on Monday evening, this time with my Dad and his side of the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night my uncle cooked Arroz con Pollo from their Grandmother's recipe at my house. It was great not to have to cook, but I've left the house this morning with dirty dishes still in the sink. Couldn't run the dishwasher last night because everyone hung around to watch Shrek and it would have been too loud. Then it was too late to run it after everyone left because our bedroom opens up onto the kitchen and the HUSband doesn't like the sound of the dishwasher while trying to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm back at work today and heading home soon. I think we're opting out of the Chinese food dinner tonight and going to chill by ourselves. Besides, I have 4 loads of laundry to do since we were out of town and I wasn't caught up before we left.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-113581043364887181?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/113581043364887181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=113581043364887181&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113581043364887181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113581043364887181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/12/holiday-survival.html' title='Holiday Survival'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-113442267141133396</id><published>2005-12-12T15:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-12-12T15:24:31.430-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Movie Quote of the Week</title><content type='html'>I fear you are underestimating the sneakiness, sir. &lt;br /&gt;-Emilio Lopez  in &lt;a href="http://www.sonypictures.com/movies/mrdeeds/"&gt;Mr. Deeds&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We watched most of this movie when it was on TV one night last week.  I found bits of it much more funny than the first time I saw it in the theater.  John Turturro is a riot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-113442267141133396?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/113442267141133396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=113442267141133396&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113442267141133396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113442267141133396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/12/movie-quote-of-week.html' title='Movie Quote of the Week'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-113381895051733203</id><published>2005-12-05T15:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-12-05T15:42:30.530-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot in Here</title><content type='html'>I'm loving having a new office since moving into my new role. However, the office I'm in was designed to be a small conference room, as were the two other offices next door. The heating and cooling systems are apparently set up differently because of that. It is a sauna in here. I've just taken off my sweater and am taking a conference call wearing only a tank top. Thank goodness the glass wall is frosted glass and nobody can see me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-113381895051733203?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/113381895051733203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=113381895051733203&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113381895051733203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113381895051733203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/12/hot-in-here.html' title='Hot in Here'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-113347566882228337</id><published>2005-12-01T16:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T15:46:41.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Perspective</title><content type='html'>A good friend of mine will be transferring to London in January. She'll be staying with her current employer, but had to go through a complete interview process and was selected for a newly created role. I see this as wonderful, exciting opportunity for her. She's the biggest Anglophile I know, having lived in London for short periods of time for at least 3 times in the last 25 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been friends for a long time, and much of my family knows her and often asks about her. While IMing with my cousin last week, I wrote something like "[friend's name] is moving to London with her company." His immediate response was "that sucks." I know that he may not have known all the details and that she was vying for the opportunity. Still, it struck me as odd that his initial reaction was that it was a bad thing and something that she was being forced to do. What does this mean? Does he dislike his own job and employer so much that he thinks any move would be a bad thing? Does he love current situation so much that he can't imagine even wanting to live somewhere else, especially another country? Or was he just having the sort of day that would cause him to respond with "that sucks" to whatever I wrote?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.prettypurpleprincess.net/?p=1247"&gt;Dana wrote something&lt;/a&gt; earlier this week about how so many people lack the trait of being flexible. I think this may be another example of exactly that. We all look at every situation with a different set of eyes and sometimes can't even fathom another person's point of view.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-113347566882228337?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/113347566882228337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=113347566882228337&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113347566882228337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113347566882228337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/12/perspective.html' title='Perspective'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-113276764897559064</id><published>2005-11-23T11:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T15:47:37.976-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Quote from the Lady Detective</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Mma Ramotswe smiled at her old friend. You can go through life and make new friends every year – every month practically – but there was never any substitute for those friendships of childhood that survive into adult years. Those are the ones in which we are bound to one another with hoops of steel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She reached out and touched Dr. Maketsi on the arm, gently, as old friends will sometimes do when they have nothing more to say. p. 221&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am especially thankful for my friends this time of year. They help me keep my sanity during the holidays. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-113276764897559064?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/113276764897559064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=113276764897559064&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113276764897559064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113276764897559064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/11/another-quote-from-lady-detective.html' title='Another Quote from the Lady Detective'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-113261271607978378</id><published>2005-11-21T16:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T15:48:46.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Worth Sharing</title><content type='html'>Been reading a bit more as my travel schedule for work has increased. This passage was one that made me stop and read it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1400034779/104-2038674-7373542?v=glance&amp;n=283155&amp;amp;n=507846&amp;s=books&amp;amp;v=glance"&gt;The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency&lt;/a&gt; by Alexander McCall Smith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;She would go back there, she thought, when she had worked long enough to retire. She would buy a house, or build one perhaps, and ask some of her cousins to live with her. They would grow melons on the lands an might even buy a small shop in the village; and every morning she could sit in front of her house and sniff at the wood-smoke and look forward to the day talking with her friends. How sorry she felt for white people, who couldn't do any of this, and who were always dashing around and worrying themselves over things that were going to happen anyway. What use was it having all that money if you could never sit still or just watch your cattle eating grass? None, in her view; none at all, and yet they did not know it. Every so often you met a white person who understood, who realized how things really were; but these people are few and far between and the other white people often treated them with suspicion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-113261271607978378?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/113261271607978378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=113261271607978378&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113261271607978378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113261271607978378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/11/worth-sharing.html' title='Worth Sharing'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-113172845694835127</id><published>2005-11-11T10:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-11-11T11:00:56.960-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Today's Pet Peeve</title><content type='html'>Because everyday deserves a pet peeve....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I send you an email and sign it with my name and then you reply, which salutation would you choose:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a) Hi Sara,&lt;br /&gt;b) Hi Sarah,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Correct answer is B. My name has an H at the end. If you send me an email (to my work address, and you also work for the same company), you'll see my name spelled out in the address line and you may have noticed it in my email to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-113172845694835127?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/113172845694835127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=113172845694835127&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113172845694835127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/113172845694835127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/11/todays-pet-peeve.html' title='Today&apos;s Pet Peeve'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112967443700277354</id><published>2005-10-18T17:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T17:27:17.006-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Territory</title><content type='html'>So, there've been some changes going on at work.  I try not to talk too much about work stuff here.  Anyway - - as a result of these changes, I will have 5 people in 5 different states reporting to me, which will mean traveling more.   Also, it means that I got acknowledged for Boss's day.  I huge plant/floral arrangement arrived on Friday and I think that it when I finally hit me that I am one particular person's B-o-s-s.  I think this is going to work out well.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112967443700277354?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112967443700277354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112967443700277354&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112967443700277354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112967443700277354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/10/new-territory.html' title='New Territory'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112899821040233504</id><published>2005-10-10T21:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T21:36:50.406-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Genius</title><content type='html'>One of my better moments yesterday morning occurred when I added water to Bisquick rather than milk. Ooopsie. Thankfully, we had all the ingredients to actually make pancakes from scratch. And, you know what? I do think they actually tasted just a little bit better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112899821040233504?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112899821040233504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112899821040233504&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112899821040233504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112899821040233504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/10/genius.html' title='Genius'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112836960093731417</id><published>2005-10-03T14:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-03T15:00:00.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacation</title><content type='html'>I just listened to an outgoing voice mail message in which the person reminded callers that he would be out of the office on Friday, May 13th. Hello - that was almost 5 months ago. Should I have mentioned something about it in the message I left him?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112836960093731417?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112836960093731417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112836960093731417&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112836960093731417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112836960093731417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/10/vacation.html' title='Vacation'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112830266906036675</id><published>2005-10-02T20:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-02T20:24:29.113-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Much TV (&amp; other random thoughts)</title><content type='html'>I've spent some of the weekend catching up on Tivo. Two espisodes of Reunion and last week's Desperate Housewives. We've yet to watch the Alias premiere... maybe later tonight. Right now we're watching Family Guy and they're singing karaoke Journey songs. And I'm singing along. oh. dear. We now have 13 season passes - thank goodness we opted for the the one with the dual tuner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite quote from the Reunion episode (1988) that I watched today:&lt;br /&gt;"Something tells me that you never really escape highshcool. It just haunts you for the rest of your life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just got off the phone with a friend that I've known forever. We weren't the best of friends for all 28 years we've known each other, but were close at times in highschool. Last week, a girl we graduated with found her on myspace. It was so strange. This other girl and my friend never got along, but now live within 25 miles of eachother in SoCal. Haunting indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also today, we went to see a Transporter 2 with one of the HUSband's best friends from highschool. His b-day is tomorrow - turning 34. The HUSband will be 34 at the end of November. It's funny that the tables have turned now and the HUSband will tease his friend about being older. I'm sure he wasn't complaining when he turned 16 or 21 earlier. Man, we're getting old.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112830266906036675?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112830266906036675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112830266906036675&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112830266906036675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112830266906036675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/10/too-much-tv-other-random-thoughts.html' title='Too Much TV (&amp; other random thoughts)'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112700097379494043</id><published>2005-09-17T18:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-17T19:17:27.456-05:00</updated><title type='text'>good memories</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1382/501/1600/File0113.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1382/501/320/File0113.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Spring Break 1996, on the banks of the Mighty Mississippi. This picture was one I used to show my students when I was teaching English in Japan to illustrate the word "friends."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112700097379494043?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112700097379494043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112700097379494043&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112700097379494043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112700097379494043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/09/good-memories.html' title='good memories'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112681393439950812</id><published>2005-09-15T14:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-15T14:52:14.406-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Frustration</title><content type='html'>Earlier today, I spent 14 minutes in a conference room waiting for a conference call to begin. I work in a cube, so I spent quite a bit of time in conference rooms when there are confidential things that need to be discussed. I tend to need to discuss confidential things quite a bit since I’m in HR. Anyway, since I was away from my desk and didn’t get the IM that the meeting would be postponed until tomorrow. It was originally scheduled for 1:00, then 1:15 and then 1:30…now sometime tomorrow. Lovely. Yeah, cubes make us all so much more productive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112681393439950812?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112681393439950812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112681393439950812&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112681393439950812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112681393439950812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/09/frustration.html' title='Frustration'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112663829259383689</id><published>2005-09-14T10:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-14T10:36:20.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reunion</title><content type='html'>Nevermind the fact that I get the Erasure song stuck in my name every time I mention the name of this wonderful new show. Set your TiVo now for Thursday night to record &lt;a href="http://www.fox.com/reunion/"&gt;Reunion&lt;/a&gt;. Or, I suppose you could do it the old fashioned way and actually watch it. I recorded the premiere last week and didn't get around to watching it until Monday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The characters graduated from highschool in 1986, the same year that I finished 6th grade. Each episode is a year, with a few scenes from the present day thrown in. I loved thinking back to 1986 as I watched it. The soundtrack brought back a lot of memories too. One character said "Wham is the next Beatles" and later in the episode was watching an Ah Ha video on MTV. Love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What really hit me was how different life is now that I thought it would be when I graduated from highschool. Or even more recently, how much has happened/changed in the 9 short years since college graduation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112663829259383689?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112663829259383689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112663829259383689&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112663829259383689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112663829259383689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/09/reunion.html' title='Reunion'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112654902539542273</id><published>2005-09-12T13:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T13:17:05.403-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh My Achin'</title><content type='html'>Man, I'm gettin' old. We spent the bulk of the weekend painting. The HUSband's parents have decided to put a house on the market that they've rented for the majority of the last 20 years. They also decided to paint every wall in the house... and we got to help. Thankfully, his sister and her new HUSband came to help as well. Six painters are much more productive than two. I painted four closets, the master bedroom, 1/2 of the hallway, the wet bar, and the entry way. My back doesn't hurt nearly as much as I thought it would, but my legs are killing me from all of the bending a squatting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This house was a trip. They lived in it for 2 years in the early 80s prior to moving into the house they still live in today. There are remnants of bad wallpaper and flooring choices tucked away. The switchplates and outlets have been painted over for the most part. One in the master bath had been wallpapered to match what was on the walls at one time - - navy blue background with gold and brownish flowers. Oh my! I think the best part was the bits of low pile floral brown carpet that once was in the whole kitchen/dining/bar/utility room area. The HUSband also replaced six light fixtures for less than $100 - - a great investment in my opinion. He's trying to get them to do small things like replace some blinds that don't work very well or the towel bars in the bathrooms. They really just want to be done with it all.... and I can't say that I blame them. They're at a point in their lives where they'd like to have the equity out of the house to be able to put towards some land to retire to in a few years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had all good intention of doing some stuff around the house when we got home. All I managed to complete was one load of laundry. I suppose I'll vacuum tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112654902539542273?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112654902539542273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112654902539542273&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112654902539542273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112654902539542273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/09/oh-my-achin.html' title='Oh My Achin&apos;'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112604265735609294</id><published>2005-09-06T16:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-06T16:37:37.366-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Here</title><content type='html'>Donna posted an inquiry earlier today to see if the internet was awake. I am. I just haven't been posting lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have spent much of my time on the internet reading articles and blogs about the hurricane. I can't begin to express how sad the whole thing makes me. For selfish reasons, I am sad that our family trip (11 people from three generations) to Louisiana scheduled for the 15th through 18th has been cancelled. However, I am so happy to know that what little of my family still lives in Louisiana is safe. My cousin's cousin (from his mother's side of the family) is the only person I know that actually lives (lived) in New Orleans. She and her husband were in Dallas during the storm, but he is a doctor and went back on Tuesday of last week. I should check to see if he's still there and how he's doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fell through on the August Happiness Challenge, that's for sure.&lt;br /&gt;Good news today is that we're already close to the end of day #2 in the work week and I've only had to work one day. The HUSband ended up being off work yesterday too, which is unusual since he works in a restaurant that is only closed two days of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our work email and messaging tool and HRIS have all been down for the better part of the afternoon. I think it's a sign that we should all leave early. I'm outta here.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112604265735609294?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112604265735609294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112604265735609294&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112604265735609294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112604265735609294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/09/still-here.html' title='Still Here'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112422870970538458</id><published>2005-08-16T16:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-17T09:00:35.576-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.spuddybuddy.com"&gt;Donna&lt;/a&gt; got me! Actually, this is my first tag, so I have to admit that I'm somewhat honored. I'm supposed to reveal to you five (only five this time) oddities about myself. I've spent much of the day pondering and have come up with the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I despise the red light on my work phone telling me that I have voice mail waiting. I suppose the same goes for the red email messages in Lotus Notes. Perhaps I think that something horrible has happened or is about to be assigned to me. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have a particular order that in which I apply my make-up. If for some reason I go straight from eyeliner to foundation, I don't even realize I've forgotten mascara. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I suck at changing my earrings. I most often wear a pair I got from my parents for graduation from college. I can sleep and shower and even swim in them, so why bother changing? When Christmas or a birthday rolls around I sometimes ask for earrings. I got some new ones this year and am even wearing them today. And I wore a different pair yesterday too! Impressive, isn't it? &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I try to ignore genetics. I have high cholestrol. So does my father and my mother is borderline. It's a fact. Diet and excercise just won't do it in my case. I know, I know, I'm making an appt with an internist this week (well, who knows when the appt will actually be, but I'm going to make it this week). &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Along with reading the obituaries in my hometown newspaper online, I also often check the new baby pages on the alumni site from the university I went to.  I rarely admit this for fear that others will think that I'm baby crazy.  I like to see what people are naming their kids, and sometimes I even see a baby born to someone I knew.  It is also sort of amusing to see which picture the proud new parents choose to display on such a site.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now the tough part: tagging others to play along.  Well, I'm not sure they even stop by here much, but I'd love to see responses from &lt;a href="http://faithsista.blogspot.com/"&gt;Faith&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://overdressedconfessions.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kalisah&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://guwisays.blogspot.com/"&gt;Guwi&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112422870970538458?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112422870970538458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112422870970538458&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112422870970538458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112422870970538458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/08/tagged.html' title='Tagged'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112421096618447168</id><published>2005-08-16T11:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-16T16:13:05.893-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happiness Catch-Up</title><content type='html'>Man, I'm not good at this posting something everyday thing. It's hard. So, I bring you my last few days of happiness:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Friday, August 12th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was able to work from home for while hanging out with Mom and then take a portion of the day off to have fun with her around Austin. We went to the new Whole Foods, which is always great fun. Oh, and a new oven and stove combo thingy was delivered. Yea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Saturday, August 13th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great day w/ Mom and her husband. Many happy moments that day.&lt;br /&gt;We all slept in for a little bit, ate a yummy brunch and headed to the &lt;a href="http://www.thestoryoftexas.com/imax/films/forcesofnature.shtm"&gt;IMAX&lt;/a&gt; and then the &lt;a href="http://www.thestoryoftexas.com/about/about.shtm"&gt;Bob Bullock Texas State History Museum&lt;/a&gt;. Later in the afternoon the boys installed the new kitchen appliance. Then we went downtown for &lt;a href="http://www.donaemilias.com/"&gt;dinner&lt;/a&gt; and watched a bunch of &lt;a href="http://www.austin360.com/search/content/events/special/bats.html"&gt;bats&lt;/a&gt; fly out from under a bridge for their evening feeding. I've lived here almost 8 years and can finally say I've seen the bats!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Sunday, August 14th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was happy to make homemade blueberry muffins in our new oven. Yum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Monday, August 15th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My HUSband broke into song while on the phone . . . he mentioned "Just the two of us" doing something this weekend. It made me smile big. Not only the idea having some "we" time, but also that he's a goof and would actually sing to me. Apparently nobody was within hearing range at his work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112421096618447168?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112421096618447168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112421096618447168&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112421096618447168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112421096618447168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/08/happiness-catch-up.html' title='Happiness Catch-Up'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112377886934546928</id><published>2005-08-11T11:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-11T12:02:45.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Saturday, August 6th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a fun day. Jake and Donna arrived late Friday. We woke up and had breakfast at home, everyone showered and got pretty and then we went to see a movie. That night was the birthday celebration with friends. I got the funniest gift I think I've ever received! I must've turned bright red as I got to the part in the poem where I realized my friends had given me a *rabbit*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Sunday, August 7th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another, laid back day. More breakfast cooked by the HUSband. Our friend, M, came over (different than the M friend who I told about the blog a few weeks ago), and the boys spent a couple hours talking techie stuff before Jake and Donna headed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Monday, August 8th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a part of me that felt a little silly choosing to fly to Houston rather than drive. Even though the total travel time is about the same since you have to be at the airport early and all, I really enjoy someone else doing the navigation piece. I was happy to realize I'd made the right choice when it was raining so much that the drive would have been miserable for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Tuesday, August 9th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday was not a happy day for many of the people that I interacted with. I went to Houston to deliver some bad news to an office there. I was happy because they handled it as well as could be expected and didn't choose to shoot the messenger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Wednesday, August 10th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was happy to be home from Houston. I was even happier that my flight arrived at 4:00 and the traffic wasn't bad on the way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Today, August 11th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just won my first movie ticket from Blingo. This site really does work. If you haven't signed up yet, find your way to the button on my sidebar and do so. The techie folks I know that use it say that it is no more big-brother-ish than Google. It really does work like Google, but they give stuff away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112377886934546928?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112377886934546928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112377886934546928&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112377886934546928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112377886934546928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/08/happy-happy-joy-joy.html' title='Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112326425883554267</id><published>2005-08-05T12:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-05T12:50:58.883-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lots of Happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Friday (8/5)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I love the rain.  I don't love the rain during my morning commute so much.  However, I was happy that it rained on a Friday morning, when traffic is generally lighter, therefore not making the rainy commute too painful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Thursday (8/4)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday to me! And it was indeed a happy birthday.  I have great friends &amp; family that wished me well on my special day.  I'm looking forward to the birthday dinner on Saturday night.  &lt;a href="http://www.smackmybooty.com/"&gt;Jake&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.spuddybuddy.com/"&gt;Donna&lt;/a&gt; are even coming to town to celebrate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Wednesday (8/3)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I don't mention enough how wonderful my HUSband is.  I came home after a night at my (non)book club to a straightened house and a mowed yard.  He rocks.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Tuesday (8/2)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;This is something I'm almost ashamed to admit:  I'm really enjoying the Tuesday night TV schedule this summer.  We're recent fans of NCIS, so are catching the re-runs; we're addicted to Big Brother again this year, and somehow have gotten into the show where someone will be chosen to be the new lead singer of INXS.  I was happy to have a relaxing evening watching TV.  I'm lame.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112326425883554267?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112326425883554267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112326425883554267&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112326425883554267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112326425883554267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/08/lots-of-happy.html' title='Lots of Happy'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112293673396203040</id><published>2005-08-01T17:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-01T17:52:13.970-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Today</title><content type='html'>I'm happy today because I'm headed to a free Yoga class. A friend is about to finish her Yoga Teacher Training and needs some guinea pigs/students. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also picked a &lt;a href="http://www.moonshinegrill.com/"&gt;place to go&lt;/a&gt; for dinner on Saturday night to celebrate my upcoming birthday. Yea!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112293673396203040?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112293673396203040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112293673396203040&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112293673396203040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112293673396203040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/08/happy-today.html' title='Happy Today'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112257733792424416</id><published>2005-07-28T13:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T15:24:06.253-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Coming Out &amp; Carrying On</title><content type='html'>I went to lunch today with a friend and actually felt comfortable telling her about my blog. She's going though something that another blogger is and I found myself telling her all about reading this other woman's blog. Too funny. Then when she asked if I had my own, I couldn't fake it. Welcome to my blog, M. Hope you enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there are 3 real life people that I know that know about my blog. One of them is no longer speaking to me.... long story there. Funny thing is that I know there's one more person out there that's reading, but I don't think this person knows I know s/he is reading. Ah, the complications of blogging and trying to decide how public you want to be about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also decided that I should be doing this more often. I started last year mostly because &lt;a href="http://www.spuddybuddy.com/"&gt;Donna&lt;/a&gt; was doing it. I was also in a really bad place at my job at the time. And then there was the &lt;a href="http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/08/august-happiness_01.html#comments"&gt;August Happiness Challenge&lt;/a&gt; of 2004. It seemed like a good exercise for me. And I think I'll do it again. Care to join me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112257733792424416?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112257733792424416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112257733792424416&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112257733792424416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112257733792424416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/07/coming-out-carrying-on.html' title='Coming Out &amp; Carrying On'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-112118138201249600</id><published>2005-07-12T10:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T10:16:22.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Today</title><content type='html'>It happened – I found a name in the obits that I recognized.  Mrs. H, the librarian from my high school, died on Saturday.  I’m sure she retired long ago from the HS library. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The service will be tomorrow at the church I went to when I was 3 years old.  I also went to the preschool and kindergarten at that church.  There was a barn with peacocks and sheep.   There was the shell of an old car painted bright colors that we played on like a jungle gym.  We could only take our shoes off while playing outside if it was 80 degrees or hotter. Oh, and the rope swing!  Good memories.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-112118138201249600?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/112118138201249600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=112118138201249600&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112118138201249600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/112118138201249600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/07/today.html' title='Today'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-111833939224113394</id><published>2005-06-09T12:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-09T12:49:52.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Odd Habit</title><content type='html'>I've been reading the obituaries from my hometown lately. Each day as I check out updated blogs, I eventually checking out the obit section of the online version of my hometown's paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of the family, who was also our family doctor, died recently. Since my parents' divorce, his wife is one of the few people that still keeps rather constant contact with my mom. When I arrived at my mom's house (she now lives elsewhere) on the day before Mother's Day, she was on the phone with her friend. She had called to say that she had just come back from Jim's funeral and was so sorry that she hadn't called earlier in the week when he passed away. Almost instinctively, I went to the paper's website to find his obit. I thought to myself that I should check it often so such a situation could be avoided in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yesterday, as I was looking at the listing of life's accomplishments, loved ones gone before and loved ones left behind, I stopped and wondered to myself how I will feel when I come across a name I know. Maybe I'd rather learn of the passing of someone else another way. I'm feeling more and more detached from the place I called home for over 20 years and am not certain I will learn another way. There's no good way to learn of a death anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-111833939224113394?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/111833939224113394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=111833939224113394&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111833939224113394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111833939224113394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/06/odd-habit.html' title='Odd Habit'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-111816662719071261</id><published>2005-06-07T12:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T16:08:46.646-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Update of Sorts</title><content type='html'>Crash was a hit! HA - I'm so funny, aren't I? Seriously, the HUSband and I went with 3 of our friends and only one person in the whole group didn't like it. What I really liked was that it didn't seem preachy or attempt to provide answers to all the issues that were presented. I do agree that it was a bit contrived in some parts, but overall seemed to be plausible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the weekend was relaxing. Some running of errands, doing of chores, washing of cars (by the HUSband), and cooking of food. I made dinner for my dad and his wife and took it over there on Sunday evening. She had surgery on her shoulder last Friday and seems to be healing well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend is coming from Dallas and will stay with us tonight, tomorrow night and Thursday night. Thankfully, he isn't one that I feel I need to go to heroic efforts to clean the house for when he comes to visit. Then we leave Friday mid-day to go to the HUSband's parents' house for the beginning of the pre-wedding festivities. Oh, I just realized that I may not have mentioned that the HUSband's sister is getting married on Saturday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-111816662719071261?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/111816662719071261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=111816662719071261&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111816662719071261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111816662719071261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/06/update-of-sorts.html' title='Update of Sorts'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-111781349987710455</id><published>2005-06-03T10:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-03T10:44:59.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>it's got to get better</title><content type='html'>You'd never know it was Friday the way my morning started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm wearing the third top I put on this morning. The was so first that you could see the embroidered flowers on my bra - not so good. The second (although black), had some sort of stain on my right boob. So, I settled on a purple/magenta short sleeve sweater that is honestly a little too faded, but it's casual Friday, so why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't find the shoes I wanted to wear. The HUSband was still sleeping, so I couldn't turn on the light and the bedroom and search thoroughly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the cat threw up in the hallway and woke up the HUSband. I let him (the cat, silly - not the HUSband) drink straight from the faucet in the bathroom sink as I was getting ready this morning instead of filling the bottom of the sink with a pool for him to drink from. Twisting his head just so to get it out of the faucet directly must cause the water to go down the wrong way or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silver lining: since the HUSband was awake, he was able to join in the great shoe search and found them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh - to top it all off - the traffic this morning was the worst it has been all week. WTF?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Friday lunch group at work is headed to &lt;a href="http://www.peiwei.com/thelocation006.jsp?loc=0078&amp;amp;state=tx"&gt;Pei Wei&lt;/a&gt; shortly - yea! And we're going to see &lt;a href="http://www.austinchronicle.com/gyrobase/Calendar/Film?Film=oid%3A268912"&gt;Crash&lt;/a&gt; tonight at the &lt;a href="http://www.drafthouse.com/"&gt;Alamo&lt;/a&gt;. See? There are already two good things happening to balance out my not so great morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-111781349987710455?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/111781349987710455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=111781349987710455&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111781349987710455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111781349987710455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/06/its-got-to-get-better.html' title='it&apos;s got to get better'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-111772631976350364</id><published>2005-06-02T10:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T10:31:59.790-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to Your Life</title><content type='html'>there's no turning back..... brought to you by Launchcast radio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are times when I feel that life is getting away from me, but thankfully today is not one of those days. I don't have any meetings on my calendar today or tomorrow, my boss is on vacation, her boss is at a some Executive Management "meeting" in which annual bonuses are distributed. The size of those bonuses are at least my annual salary in some cases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The long weekend was good for me. We went to visit the HUSband's parents on Saturday and came back on Sunday. His sister and her fiance came as well. The wedding is in two short weeks! The HUSband had to work on Monday, so I had the day to myself. I slept in a little, read some of a book, did some laundry, cleaned the bathrooms, dusted all but the family room and guest room, swiffered and vacuumed. I also managed to fit lunch with my dad and his wife in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we got DirecTV a couple months ago, we've had all the movie channels for free and have TiVoed a ton of them. We watched &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0363988/"&gt;Secret Window&lt;/a&gt; on Sunday and I watched &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0203009/"&gt;Moulin Rouge &lt;/a&gt;Monday. I wish I wouldn't have figured out the twist in Secret Window as early as I did..... all in all, a good movie, though. Moulin Rouge held my attention for the first 45 min or so, but then I was ready for it to be done and a bit tired of all the pop music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yoga tonight - - and maybe a short walk around the lake before if I have time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy almost Friday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-111772631976350364?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/111772631976350364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=111772631976350364&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111772631976350364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111772631976350364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/06/welcome-to-your-life.html' title='Welcome to Your Life'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-111720676353319523</id><published>2005-05-27T10:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-27T10:12:43.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'>TGIF</title><content type='html'>Hooray for Friday.  Hooray for a long weeeknd. &lt;br /&gt;It looks like we'll be heading to the in-laws tomorrow and coming back Sunday.  The HUSband has to work on Monday, but might try to make it a short day.  There's also a chance that my Mother and Grandmother will be coming to Austin on Sunday and leaving Monday or early Tuesday morning.  I'm hoping to work some relaxation time in at some point - - or at least time to read the last 75 pages of a book that I started while traveling for work last week.  Airports and airplanes are great places for me to get some reading done.  What are your plans for the weekend? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, can you help me out and give me some safe topics to post about?  I don't want to write too much about work or family issues......... and those seem to be the things that always come to mind.  Send a question or two or three my way and I'll find something to say about almost any topic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-111720676353319523?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/111720676353319523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=111720676353319523&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111720676353319523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111720676353319523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/05/tgif.html' title='TGIF'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-111687156283014037</id><published>2005-05-23T13:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-23T13:07:01.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Really?</title><content type='html'>It is performance appraisal time around here, and I get to review some of them. I came across this gem last week and had to share it with you: " [employee name]'s customer service skills are acceptional." What I wouldn't do to have acceptional skills! Even worse? This made it through two levels of management before landing in my inbox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note - - I know I've been away for a while. Nothing much has begged to be written about. Other than the girls cruise a couple weeks ago. Incredible Fun. Good Times. Perhaps I'll write some about that later in the week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-111687156283014037?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/111687156283014037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=111687156283014037&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111687156283014037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111687156283014037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/05/really.html' title='Really?'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-111291237370956606</id><published>2005-04-07T17:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-07T17:19:33.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Jones</title><content type='html'>Who are they? Am I chasing them?  I don’t want to.  I want to be happy and content being who we are, not constantly aspiring to be something/someone else.  I’m aware that such a statement can be interpreted to mean that I have no aspirations or ambition.  That is not the case. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The HUSband test drove potential new cars last week.  Direct TV and TiVo arrived yesterday (I know our lives will never be the same) and the new dining room furniture and china cabinet arrive tomorrow.  We don’t &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; these things, that’s certain.  But I can certainly justify each one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you have/want that makes you feel like your in the race with the Joneses?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-111291237370956606?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/111291237370956606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=111291237370956606&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111291237370956606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111291237370956606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/04/jones.html' title='The Jones'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-111263786259586644</id><published>2005-04-04T12:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-04T13:04:22.596-05:00</updated><title type='text'>From My Grandmother</title><content type='html'>I love that my Granny has email and sends me these sorts of gems from time to time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Subject: Fwd: Fw: Rules of Life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Today is International Very Good Looking, Damn Smart Woman's Day,  so please send this message to someone you think fits this description.  Please do not send it back to me as I have already received it from a Very Good Looking, Damn Smart Woman!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;And remember this motto to live by: Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, a margarita in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-111263786259586644?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/111263786259586644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=111263786259586644&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111263786259586644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111263786259586644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/04/from-my-grandmother.html' title='From My Grandmother'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-111086098144917662</id><published>2005-03-14T22:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-14T22:29:41.453-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Numbers</title><content type='html'>Happy Pi Day! Get it? It's 3/14... I wish I could claim that I realized that on my own, but have to admit that I heard it on the radio on my drive from the airport to my hotel this afternoon. I love the fact that I was able to travel on a weekday rather than on Sunday. I originally thought I'd be able to fly out on Sunday, but it was absolutely wonderful to have the day to recover and do things like laundry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a weekend! It started as I left work at about 3:30 last Thursday to go to our friends' rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Donna has done an excellent job of summarizing the &lt;a href="http://www.spuddybuddy.com/index.cfm?commentID=712"&gt;wedding festivities&lt;/a&gt; (including an Owen Wilson sighting), so I'll send you there to read about it. You'll also find a &lt;a href="http://www.spuddybuddy.com/index.cfm?commentID=713"&gt;picture of the HUSband&lt;/a&gt; there.... a first in the blogosphere since I haven't posted any pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More numbers to mess with my mind - - we stayed in room 418 on Friday night at the hotel where the wedding reception was and I checked in to room 419 this afternoon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-111086098144917662?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/111086098144917662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=111086098144917662&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111086098144917662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111086098144917662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/03/numbers.html' title='Numbers'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-111021720507270792</id><published>2005-03-07T11:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-07T11:40:05.073-06:00</updated><title type='text'>25% Makes Quite a Difference</title><content type='html'>After an afternoon of shopping for a dress to wear to the wedding on Friday, I decided to take a spin on the recumbent bike at home.  I discovered that there is a HUGE difference in the program that supposedly takes me to 85% of my max heart rate compared to the one that is 60%.  I know you're out there thinking I shoulda known, and of course there's a difference.  I just hadn't exerted that much energy in quite a while.  That could be the reason that I came home with a dress that isn't the size I wanted to buy.  Maybe I'll have to have it altered by the time my sister-in-law's wedding in June.  I generally like to buy one dress to wear to special occaisions a year. . . but losing weight would be the best reason to have to buy another.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-111021720507270792?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/111021720507270792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=111021720507270792&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111021720507270792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/111021720507270792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/03/25-makes-quite-difference.html' title='25% Makes Quite a Difference'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110987923301461316</id><published>2005-03-03T13:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-03-03T13:47:13.016-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Registry Quandry</title><content type='html'>Dagnabit!  The item that I'd selected from the registry to take to the shower this weekend is out of stock at all three Foley's in Austin.  Hmpf!  I could order it online, but then won't be able to take it to the shower.  I suppose I'll be making another trip to Crate &amp; Barrel.  Looking at the C&amp;B registry, I've noticed that there are quite a few purchases for items that were not requested although some of the selected ones haven't been bought yet.  Does that seem odd to anyone else out there in the blogosphere?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110987923301461316?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110987923301461316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110987923301461316&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110987923301461316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110987923301461316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/03/registry-quandry.html' title='Registry Quandry'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110977850328452200</id><published>2005-03-02T09:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T10:27:16.183-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Last night I went with my friend, K, to what she had hoped would have been her final fitting of her wedding dress. The wedding is next Friday - - so soon! The dress is beautiful, and she looks beautiful in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another friend has just ended a two and a half year relationship. He proposed (as expected), she freaked out, he moved out. That’s the short version of the story, to be sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this relationship talk seems to have seeped into my subconscious. I had a bizarre dream last night. I was married, but there were people there from the past that I had once been in a relationship with. There was one in particular that I feel like I hurt very badly and I felt a strong need to explain myself, and apologize. Is this my brain’s way of telling me that I should reach out to a guy I haven’t seen in 10+ years? I doubt it. I feel more like the message is that I should look back on that time and that relationship and learn from it. What do you, dear internet, think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110977850328452200?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110977850328452200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110977850328452200&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110977850328452200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110977850328452200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/03/last-night-i-went-with-my-friend-k-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110961395884807080</id><published>2005-02-28T12:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T12:05:58.850-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything and Nothing</title><content type='html'>I had a great weekend.  It started out with a happy hour at one of our &lt;a href="http://www.sabacafe.com/locations.htm"&gt;favorite downtown places&lt;/a&gt;.  We ran into some friends there and it ended up being a happy three-hours.  As the money was counted at the end, we had too much.  That’s right, too much money.  It was such a nice change to the typical situation when you find yourself questioning how much you put in and if you should put in more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night, a friend came over to stay the night before heading to Dallas for the rest of the weekend. Her boyfriend moved out over the weekend and she wanted to be elsewhere - - totally understandable.  We’ve been friends since the 8th grade.  Saturday morning, we got out my photo albums and laughed at the pictures of us on the first day of high school and the ones of us drinking wine coolers the next summer.  We did a lot of growing up together then, and it is nice to be able to continue to do so now that we’re both the ripe old age of 30. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday evening a group of girlfriends gathered for a birthday celebration.  The honoree’s husband was out of town and we took advantage of being able to use their house.  A fantastic meal was prepared and served, copious amount of adult beverages were consumed, there were countless hours of conversation about everything and nothing.  These women are some of my closest friends; they are the sisters I’ve never had.  They are the ones I know I can count on.  We all once worked at the same place together.  Until I came back to this job, none of us worked at that company anymore.  We’re talking about taking a girls trip to Mexico in May and I can’t wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110961395884807080?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110961395884807080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110961395884807080&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110961395884807080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110961395884807080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/02/everything-and-nothing.html' title='Everything and Nothing'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110926692488970560</id><published>2005-02-24T11:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-24T11:42:04.890-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Promises, Promises</title><content type='html'>I think I promised that I would write something yesterday.  Alas, it didn’t happen.  Seems as though life just gets away from me sometimes.  I can’t report anything grand that’s been going on in my life lately.  I went to Dallas over the long weekend with a stop in College Station on the way (and yes, I know it isn’t exactly on the way, long story).  Was good to see a friend, my mother and my grandmother.  And it was incredibly nice to have Monday off as a holiday.  Had I made it back to Austin sooner in the day, it would have felt more like a real day off, but I can’t complain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work has been super busy, in a good way. That’s pretty much all I can say about that since I’ve been working on a super-secret-code-named project.  Other good work news is that my new laptop arrived Tuesday.  It is amazingly fast and fun.  And, it is actually light enough to carry around.  The old one was 5+ years old and a BRICK. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to lunch today with Dad and his wife.  The HUSband’s parents are stopping through Austin tonight on their way to Phoenix.  Lots of Family Time.  I suppose that’s a good thing too, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110926692488970560?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110926692488970560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110926692488970560&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110926692488970560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110926692488970560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/02/promises-promises.html' title='Promises, Promises'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110917205293608081</id><published>2005-02-23T09:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-23T09:20:52.966-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Wednesday Meme</title><content type='html'>I promise to post something more substantial later today - - meanwhile, the memes keep me (and maybe you?) entertained.   Seen at &lt;a href="http://www.anna-banana.net/mt/"&gt;Anna's&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.spuddybuddy.com/"&gt;Donna's.&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;bold&lt;/b&gt; the states you've been to, &lt;u&gt;underline&lt;/u&gt; the states you've lived in and &lt;i&gt;italicize&lt;/i&gt; the state you're in now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alabama / Alaska / Arizona / &lt;b&gt;Arkansas&lt;/b&gt; / &lt;b&gt;California&lt;/b&gt; / &lt;b&gt;Colorado&lt;/b&gt; / Connecticut / Delaware / &lt;b&gt;Florida&lt;/b&gt; / &lt;b&gt;Georgia&lt;/b&gt; / Hawaii / Idaho / &lt;b&gt;Illinois&lt;/b&gt; / &lt;b&gt;Indiana&lt;/b&gt; / Iowa / Kansas / Kentucky / &lt;b&gt;Louisiana&lt;/b&gt; / Maine / Maryland / Massachusetts / &lt;b&gt;Michigan&lt;/b&gt; / &lt;b&gt;Minnesota&lt;/b&gt; / Mississippi / &lt;b&gt;Missouri&lt;/b&gt; / Montana / Nebraska / &lt;b&gt;Nevada&lt;/b&gt; / New Hampshire / &lt;b&gt;New Jersey&lt;/b&gt; / New Mexico / &lt;b&gt;New York&lt;/b&gt; / &lt;strong&gt;North Carolina&lt;/strong&gt; / North Dakota / &lt;b&gt;Ohio&lt;/b&gt; / &lt;strong&gt;Oklahoma&lt;/strong&gt; / Oregon / Pennsylvania / Rhode Island / &lt;b&gt;South Carolina&lt;/b&gt; / South Dakota / &lt;b&gt;Tennessee&lt;/b&gt; / &lt;i&gt;Texas&lt;/i&gt; / Utah / Vermont / &lt;b&gt;Virginia&lt;/b&gt; / Washington / West Virginia / &lt;b&gt;Wisconsin&lt;/b&gt; / Wyoming / &lt;b&gt;Washington D.C&lt;/b&gt; /&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go &lt;a href="http://cow.org/cgi-bin/meme/state.cgi" target="_hi"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt; to have a form generate the HTML for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110917205293608081?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110917205293608081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110917205293608081&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110917205293608081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110917205293608081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/02/another-wednesday-meme.html' title='Another Wednesday Meme'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110859831985084650</id><published>2005-02-17T11:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-17T12:14:16.286-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So Glad I'm Not Sensible</title><content type='html'>I was certain that I would end up being sensible flats after seeing this quiz at &lt;a href="http://www.spuddybuddy.com"&gt;Donna's&lt;/a&gt; place.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="3" width="200" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizfarm.com/1108305679mini-guc009m-127350_t.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;You scored as &lt;b&gt;Flip-Flops&lt;/b&gt;. Easy-going and carefree, you love the feeling of the wind between your toes and the sun on your feet. Careful, though, these babies don't winter well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="200" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Flip-Flops&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="70" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;70%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Sensible Flats&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="57" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;57%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Classic Pumps&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="47" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;47%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Quirky Shoes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="40" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;40%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Sexy Heels&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="17" bgcolor="#dddddd" border="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;17%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=6552"&gt;What Kind of Shoes Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;created with &lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com"&gt;QuizFarm.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110859831985084650?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110859831985084650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110859831985084650&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110859831985084650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110859831985084650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/02/so-glad-im-not-sensible.html' title='So Glad I&apos;m Not Sensible'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110799146302733625</id><published>2005-02-09T17:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-09T17:24:23.026-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stir, Stir, Stir</title><content type='html'>The HUSband made some brownies recently. Nothing special, just a mix. He revealed that he is certainly not a baker. He may be able to cook up a storm, but he should only be allowed to bake the break and bake cookies. Yum! He chose to get out the hand mixer and mix the batter rather than stir it with a wooden spoon. The brownies turned out much more cake-like than expected. Still tasted good, but not quite the desired density.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been thinking about the above as an metaphor for my life the last couple of days. I'm having to recognize some conflict and deal with it. I'm tempted to reach for the hand mixer. But, I know it will all turn out better if handled with care. I need to stir, not mix. I also have to remember that the spoon is to be used for folding and stirring the batter.... I cannot change the course and choose to use the spoon to smack anyone on the forehead. Wish me luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110799146302733625?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110799146302733625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110799146302733625&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110799146302733625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110799146302733625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/02/stir-stir-stir.html' title='Stir, Stir, Stir'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110738807279544811</id><published>2005-02-02T17:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-02-02T17:47:52.796-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Is that a. . . </title><content type='html'>Banana in your purse or are you just happy to see me? I reached in my purse this morning around 10:30 to get my morning snack and found not one, but two, nanners!  Ooops - - I guess I forgot to eat my morning snack yesterday.  Maybe it's a sign that I need to get a smaller purse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110738807279544811?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110738807279544811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110738807279544811&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110738807279544811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110738807279544811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/02/is-that.html' title='Is that a. . . '/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110671469443648515</id><published>2005-01-27T17:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-27T17:06:04.013-06:00</updated><title type='text'>At the Chevron</title><content type='html'>I did something new the other night at the gas station. After swiping my credit card (and removing quickly), I had to enter my zip code on the keypad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I stood there filling my car, I wondered to myself if Chevron was curious about who bought gas on the northbound side of I-35 in downtown Austin or if they were doing it to avoid fraudulent charges. I turned around and noticed a big ol' sign telling me that it is now a requirement for major credit cards and assured me that it would not be used for marketing purposes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If someone gets my credit card, they've likely stolen my wallet which also has my drivers license in it. And, my drivers license has my zip code on it. So, does entering my zip code on the keypad at the gas station really protect me? Or does it just enable Chevron to make the statement that they're looking out for their customers? Or do they really use it for marketing purposes even though they say they don't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110671469443648515?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110671469443648515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110671469443648515&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110671469443648515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110671469443648515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/01/at-chevron.html' title='At the Chevron'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110671450996794860</id><published>2005-01-25T22:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T10:28:59.250-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not What I'd Planned for Tonight</title><content type='html'>I'd planned to create an entry about our wonderful trip to Colorado tonight. I haven't quite gotten to that. I did spend an insane amount of time on the phone with my mother-in-law discussing her daughter's wedding (happening on June 11). I'm exhausted just from listening to it all. Planning a wedding was fun, I'll admit. But there were so many decisions and therefore compromises to be made that it wore me out.  I do have to admit that I'm fascinated to be so close to another mother/daughter wedding planning situation. It is so different than my own was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other wedding news, our dear friends, M&amp;amp;K, will be married on March 11th. They've asked the HUSband to be the Best Man. It's a real honor since they're only having one attendant each.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110671450996794860?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110671450996794860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110671450996794860&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110671450996794860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110671450996794860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/01/not-what-id-planned-for-tonight.html' title='Not What I&apos;d Planned for Tonight'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110608450643464038</id><published>2005-01-18T15:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-18T15:41:46.433-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's getting hot in here!</title><content type='html'>I really wish the heater wasn't quite so effective in the building. I may just have to have the facilities guy come adjust the vent above my cube so that all the heat doesn't blow right on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110608450643464038?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110608450643464038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110608450643464038&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110608450643464038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110608450643464038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/01/its-getting-hot-in-here.html' title='It&apos;s getting hot in here!'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110598406993190467</id><published>2005-01-17T11:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-17T11:47:49.930-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothingness</title><content type='html'>I haven't blogged in quite a while - - seems as though there's been a whole lotta nothin' goin' on. I resolved today that I'd post on my own blog before catching up on the few that I tend to read rather regularly. So, here I sit trying to think of something exciting and creative to tell the blogosphere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the first weekend in over a month that we didn't have overnight guests or weren't out of town ourselves. It was wonderful! Saturday I got my hair cut, bought my step-mother a birthday gift, went to Central Market, went out to dinner w/ dad and step-mother. Also tried to go to Crate and Barrel, but the location here closes at 7 on Saturdays. It is open 'til 9 on weeknights, so I'll go tonight to exchange a Christmas gift. Sunday was a big cleaning day. We slept in and then I cleaned both bathrooms (even mopped), dusted the whole house (ick!) and vacuumed. The HUSband cleaned the kitchen (even mopped) and went to the grocery store to get stuff for dinner. Then he came home and cooked dinner for our friends that were coming over. We'd planned to watch the Golden Globes - - but had to cut out for Desperate Housewives in the middle. Good times with good friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not complaining much about being at work today on MLK Day. The traffic was wonderfully light on my way in. Not looking forward to tomorrow's drive since UT will also be back in session.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm off to lurk on some other sites in the blogosphere. . . more soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110598406993190467?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110598406993190467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110598406993190467&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110598406993190467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110598406993190467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/01/nothingness.html' title='Nothingness'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110494609300478613</id><published>2005-01-05T11:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-01-05T11:28:13.003-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>A much belated Happy New Year to the 5 or so folks that I think may actually read this!&lt;br /&gt;I've read on many other blogs posts about accoplishments of 2004 and goals/resolutions for 2005. I've decided that my goals/resolutions will begin on February 1, 2005. January is just going to be too crazy of a month for me to implement significant change. We're off to Minnesota tomorrow for Mimi's memorial service. The next weekend we have plans to see a comedian in San Antonio Friday night. The following weekend we'll be in Vail for a long overdue get-away just for us! We probably won't ski, but will have lots of time to relax, shop, eat good food, people watch and play in the snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110494609300478613?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110494609300478613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110494609300478613&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110494609300478613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110494609300478613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2005/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110427179053080412</id><published>2004-12-28T16:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-12-28T16:09:50.530-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dumbass Moment of the Week</title><content type='html'>Reminder:  Don't put your finger in the hole of a bagel while slicing it with a sharp serrated knife. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, you'll end up like me with a big cut in your left index finger.  It hurts like a sonofabitch! And it is impossible to keep the padded part of a band-aid dry on your finger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110427179053080412?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110427179053080412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110427179053080412&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110427179053080412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110427179053080412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/12/dumbass-moment-of-week.html' title='Dumbass Moment of the Week'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110425274327052111</id><published>2004-12-28T12:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T10:32:00.496-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Overall . . .</title><content type='html'>Overall, I've had a good Christmas. Moments have been sad, puzzling and frustrating. But overall, it was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took last Thursday off to prepare for visitors arriving on Friday. Originally, I thought the HUSband's parents might even come Thursday night. As the day got closer, I learned that they probably wouldn't even be in Austin by lunch-time on Friday. That was somewhat of a relief since it would be one less meal to plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday night we went out to dinner with a friend to celebrate her birthday. She lives in Dallas and stopped over at our house on the way to her parents' house in the Hill Country. So, Thursday morning wasn't as productive as I'd hoped (that's what vacation is for, right?). We met up with "the girls" for a yummy Mexican lunch. It was a place I'd never been and they had some scrumptious tortilla soup to keep me warm. Then Thursday PM I went to the grocery store to get everything we needed for Friday's and Saturday's meals. The HUSband had already purchased the turkey and the ham arrived from Omaha Steaks, courtesy of my Great Aunt, so I just had to buy the stuff for to make side dishes and desserts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up fairly early on Friday to begin making my Dad's birthday cake. It turned out good - - I'd forgotten how many steps there are in making a cake from scratch. It was a recipe for a Mexican Chocolate Cake from Cooking Light. Yum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as we were getting in the shower (I was actually already in the shower), the HUSband got the call from his parents that his Grandmother, Mimi, had passed away. She'd been in the hospital since just before Thanksgiving and just didn't have the strength to pull through the long recovery from her most recent surgery two weeks ago during which a rather significant part of her colon was removed. Mimi was a wonderful, caring, kind person. I'm so happy that I had a chance to know her. We're headed to Minnesota next weekend for a memorial service. Brrr...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, Mimi's death put a bit of a damper on the rest of the weekend. She typically comes to Texas around Thanksgiving and stays 'til just after Christmas. The original plan was that she would make the drive back from MN after thanksgiving w/ the HUSband's parents and fly back to Arizona on 1/1. She went into the hospital in MN the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and didn't make it home (although she did improve enough to spend a week or so at a rehabilitation center). So, this was only the second Christmas in about 20 years that she hasn't been in Texas. It's also the first time we've hosted in Austin rather than spent it at my in-laws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part of my long weekend was sleeping in yesterday and not leaving the house at all. Sure, there were tons of things I could have done. I enjoyed the down-time while the HUSband was at work. I updated my addresses and synced the Palm (got some new games). I paid bills. I watched too much E! - - damn True Hollywood Story. I didn't get around to vacuuming, but I did do two loads of laundry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm back at work today - - another 3 day work week. :) We're off to Dallas on Friday for a party w/ some friends and the Christmas celebration w/ my Mom's side of the fam on Saturday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110425274327052111?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110425274327052111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110425274327052111&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110425274327052111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110425274327052111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/12/overall.html' title='Overall . . .'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110375153213344693</id><published>2004-12-22T15:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-12-22T15:42:10.813-06:00</updated><title type='text'>i can not stand the way you TEEEEse</title><content type='html'>whoaoa - touch me baby, tainted love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love my yahoo radio. it plays the 1982 version (much better than the '91 re-mix) of the soft cell song followed by the new song by U2, Vertigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110375153213344693?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110375153213344693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110375153213344693&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110375153213344693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110375153213344693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/12/i-can-not-stand-way-you-teeeese.html' title='i can not stand the way you TEEEEse'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110375140513274712</id><published>2004-12-22T15:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-12-22T15:36:45.133-06:00</updated><title type='text'>hurrah!</title><content type='html'>no more work for me 'til next tuesday!  i'm gonna be leaving in about an hour - - if i can make it that long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;much of today has been spent browsing the internet, catching up on blogs, and on personal phone calls.  speaking of, mom even called today.  hadn't talked to her in a little over 2 weeks.  i was being stubborn and wasn't going to call.  funny thing is that i had decided to break down and call her tonight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110375140513274712?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110375140513274712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110375140513274712&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110375140513274712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110375140513274712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/12/hurrah.html' title='hurrah!'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110252731418404018</id><published>2004-12-08T11:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-12-17T15:47:57.316-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Man's (Woman's) iPod</title><content type='html'>I've been listening to quite a bit of &lt;a href="http://launch.yahoo.com/"&gt;Launchcast&lt;/a&gt; radio at work through my Yahoo! Messenger. It's fun. I can rate songs, artists, and albums and then it plays something I've already rated or something it thinks I'd like to hear. I remember being so amazed by Amazon's recommendation tool when it was new. . . sort of the same feeling here sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While listening to a friend's station the other day, I rated a bunch of her selections as well. Now my own station has a bit more variety. It makes me laugh and think of her when I get a random Nelly or JaRule song on my station. Doesn't exactly blend with the Erasure, Depeche Mode, Live, U2, Counting Crows influenced mix that is generally playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few songs bring back some very distinct and vivid memories. Most of them from college. I suppose that was the last time that I was really buying new music and going to see concerts. I'm such an old fuddy duddy. Counting Crows are playing now - - a song from August and Everything After. I can't tell you how many hours I listened to that CD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110252731418404018?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110252731418404018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110252731418404018&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110252731418404018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110252731418404018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/12/poor-mans-womans-ipod.html' title='Poor Man&apos;s (Woman&apos;s) iPod'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110244780178470931</id><published>2004-12-07T13:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-12-07T13:30:01.783-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New!</title><content type='html'>Our living room has a new coat of paint! It is the only room that we hadn't painted since moving into the house almost three years ago. We've had a color swatch taped to the wall for almost a year. At first we liked "Celery Ice," but the longer it was up, we realized that our current furniture wouldn't work well with it. Two weeks ago we picked up a bunch of samples and actually made a decision for a new color called "Cracked Wheat." The finished result seems more like "Popcorn Ball" (the lighter shade on the color sample) than "Cracked Wheat," but we like it. What I like most is how &lt;em&gt;clean&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;fresh&lt;/em&gt; the rooms seems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to vacuum around the baseboards tonight before we move the furniture back and then we're going to put up the tree. I even bought a pattern last night for a tree skirt and stockings. I wasn't pleased with the fabric selection at Hobby Lobby though, so will make a stop tonight on my way home at another fabric store to see what I can find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110244780178470931?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110244780178470931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110244780178470931&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110244780178470931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110244780178470931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/12/new.html' title='New!'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110212900426380430</id><published>2004-12-03T20:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-12-03T20:56:44.263-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What Kind Are You? </title><content type='html'>&lt;table border cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="400" align="center" border="1" style="color:black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it a bad thing that the HUSband won't drink tequilla?  He apparently had a bit too much many years ago and even the smell makes him back away if he gets too close.  Thankfully, a margarita in front of his lovely wife is not "too close." &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle" bg style="color:#66ccff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: blackfont-family:Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are Tequilla&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle" bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.quizdiva.net/bt/tequilla.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you drink, you're serious about getting drunk!&lt;br /&gt;You'll take any shot that's offered up to you...&lt;br /&gt;Even if it tastes like sock sweat!&lt;br /&gt;And you're never afraid of eating the worm.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/alcoholquiz.html"&gt;What alcoholic drink are you?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110212900426380430?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110212900426380430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110212900426380430&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110212900426380430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110212900426380430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/12/what-kind-are-you.html' title='What Kind Are You? '/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110176260690169459</id><published>2004-11-29T15:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T15:11:37.286-06:00</updated><title type='text'>For Those Paying Close Attention</title><content type='html'>You'll notice that we didn't spend Thanksgiving with either of my parents or the HUSband's parents.  Mom and her husband went to see his son in South Carolina. The HUSband's parents &lt;em&gt;drove&lt;/em&gt; to Minnesota for the entire week. And my Dad and his wife have a group of friends that they get together with every year. A couple of weeks ago, I called my Aunt to see if we could crash their Thanksgiving. It worked out quite nicely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll see the HUSband's parents in a couple weeks for his dad's 60th birthday. We saw my dad on Saturday. Still trying to figure out when we'll see Mom next. It may not be until New Year's Eve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110176260690169459?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110176260690169459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110176260690169459&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110176260690169459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110176260690169459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/11/for-those-paying-close-attention.html' title='For Those Paying Close Attention'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110176031424772973</id><published>2004-11-29T14:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T14:56:12.973-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Weekend - Hurrah! </title><content type='html'>I think the thing that I am most thankful for this year at Thanksgiving is the four-day-weekend that we had. It gave me time enough to make a trip to the Dallas area and come back in time to still feel like we had a weekend here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left the house by 8:30 on Thursday morning and made it to my Aunt and Uncle’s in good time. My cousins and their wives, my Grandmother, and my Aunt’s mother (who I thought was also my grandmother until I was about 5 years old) were all there and we all behaved so well. Oh yeah – and my cousin’s 3 year old daughter too. We ate too much, talked about nothing and then headed back to Granny’s house. She doesn’t drive in the dark anymore, so the HUSband drove her car and I followed in mine. We stayed up too late chatting and slept in a bit on Friday. Granny made biscuits and bacon for us Friday morning. Yum! There’s a bit of sadness in me as I think of the fact that she now makes the bacon in the microwave and the biscuits from a tube. I remember the days when she’d make the biscuits from scratch and the bacon on the stove just swimming in grease. And the coffee can full of drippings under the sink. Did she ever actually re-use the drippings?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came back to Austin Friday just in time to watch the last quarter to the A&amp;amp;M/UT game. I couldn’t watch though. It made me sad. So, we rented &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0319262/"&gt;The Day After Tomorrow&lt;/a&gt;. Good enough flick to keep me from falling asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday we cleaned and cleaned and cleaned. I even dusted the ceiling fans. I need to remember to do that more frequently. They’ve been on the whole summer, so my excuse is that I don’t seem to notice the dust when they’re spinning around. That night we went to dinner with my Dad and his wife at our favorite Indian restaurant. The HUSband and I both tried dishes we hadn’t had before and liked them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The highlight of Sunday was that we got the wireless router all set up! I was chatting with friends last night in front of the TV. This means that I will need to be more disciplined about the amount of time I spend on the computer at home. I also made some progress on my Christmas Cards. I realized that I don’t have the HUSband’s family’s info in my PDA, so now I have another project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had strange dreams last night and woke up at 7:22 realizing that I forgot to set the alarm. I wish I could have had just one more day to sleep in. What a great weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110176031424772973?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110176031424772973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110176031424772973&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110176031424772973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110176031424772973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/11/long-weekend-hurrah.html' title='Long Weekend - Hurrah! '/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110175818128875441</id><published>2004-11-29T13:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-29T13:56:21.286-06:00</updated><title type='text'>OUCH</title><content type='html'>I asked (or so I thought) for a landing strip and walked out with a helipad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep - I finally went for the BBW rather than the regular BW last week. Those are the codes that they write down in the appointment book. I think that the HUSband will request this as a recurring event rather than a one time treat for his birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110175818128875441?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110175818128875441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110175818128875441&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110175818128875441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110175818128875441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/11/ouch.html' title='OUCH'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110123929940572361</id><published>2004-11-23T14:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-23T14:04:01.006-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gotta Love Her . . . </title><content type='html'>I love my mother dearly. I have to. She's my Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's generally a very kind, generous and caring person. That's one of the things I admire about her. I've received a gift from her that has me scratching my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, I got an email from Mom telling me that she was sending me some "drops" (which I took to mean "pendants") that my grandparents had given me and she thought I should have. I had no idea what she was talking about, couldn't remember anything of the sort. So, the box arrived yesterday. There was a puffed heart pendant circa 1986, a funny looking pendant which looks like fake ivory with a boat etched on it, a Girl Scout pin, and a bracelet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;The puffed heart made me giggle. It looked great with my Units outfits!&lt;br /&gt;The boat thing is just plain bizarre - I have no memory of it.&lt;br /&gt;I never made it to Girl Scouts, so I'm not sure where that pin came from. I changed schools the year I was to move from Brownies to Girl Scouts and the church choir met the same afternoon. So, church choir won. &lt;/blockquote&gt;The bracelet almost brought tears to my eyes. It is one that my mother used to wear often. My father brought it to her from a business trip to Africa in the early 1980s. I still sometimes wear the necklace he brought me from the same trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been over five years since she left my father. I don't understand why she can't just say something like "I think it is more appropriate for you to have this now." Instead, there is no reference to it at all. She did the same thing with her pearls. They were my "something borrowed" for my wedding. When I tried to give them back, she said I should keep them with no explanation. I imagine that was her plan all along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that my parents are no longer together is harder for me than it should be. These sorts of reminders drive me nuts. My mom's attempt to slide this bracelet in with the other random contents of the package frustrates me. Why can't she be direct about it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm wearing the bracelet today. I've decided that I will be happy that I have it, not frustrated about the way I received it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110123929940572361?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110123929940572361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110123929940572361&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110123929940572361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110123929940572361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/11/gotta-love-her.html' title='Gotta Love Her . . . '/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110115386824206814</id><published>2004-11-22T13:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-22T14:04:28.243-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rude? </title><content type='html'>Is it rude to ask for money for a Christmas gift? I ask not because I'm asking others for it, but because someone has asked me for money.  We drew names this year on one side of my family.  I'm asking for ideas, and I'm told money by the person that the HUSband is to buy for.  It isn't sitting well with me.  Is that wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110115386824206814?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110115386824206814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110115386824206814&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110115386824206814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110115386824206814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/11/rude.html' title='Rude? '/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110054464040163204</id><published>2004-11-15T13:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T12:50:40.400-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Turtle? </title><content type='html'>So, I was reading a co-worker's paper at lunch and discovered this gem*:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Q:&lt;/strong&gt; In a recent column, John Kelso referred to some of his friends who had toilet-papered his house as being as drunk as Cooter Brown. And, on a couple of occasions, my wife has referred to me the same way. I did an Internet search to no avail. All the references were to a champion chocolate Labrador retriever and some musician. Who was Cooter Brown and just how drunk was he?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A:&lt;/strong&gt; Most etymologists dismiss the phrase as a Southern expression of unknown origin. Cooter, by the way, is slang for turtle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Farmer's Almanac notes Cooter Brown was a resident (it is unclear if he was mythical or real) near the Mason-Dixon Line during the Civil War. Cooter did not want to be drafted by the Union or the Confederacy and had divided loyalties with relatives on both sides of the conflict. His solution? An extended drinking binge until the war was over.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;*Link will require one-time registration with the Austin American Statesman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cooter" is not a word that I would ever use as slang for a turtle. It's a term that I won't even say aloud unless I'm around people I feel very comfortable with. It is something to be waxed, but not at all with &lt;a href="http://www.turtlewax.com/"&gt;Turtle Wax&lt;/a&gt;, that's for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110054464040163204?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110054464040163204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110054464040163204&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110054464040163204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110054464040163204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/11/turtle.html' title='Turtle? '/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110044429070876580</id><published>2004-11-14T08:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-14T08:58:10.706-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Stuff</title><content type='html'>I've gotten &lt;a href="http://www.smoochdog.com"&gt;Michelle&lt;/a&gt; going on this, so I'd better play along as well. Much of life is what we make it. I believe that if I can focus on the pleasant things, I will able to make my life a bit happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wednesday, November 10:&lt;/em&gt; Free Yoga! A friend is taking classes to become an instructor, so the studio has given her some free passes and I got to go for free. Hooray! The temperature control in the room made it feel more like a Bikram class than Hatha at times. I certainly didn't have enough water during the day for that craziness. I was proud of myself for being able to go into a resting pose for a bit when I got light-headed and catch back up with the class when I was ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thursday, November 11:&lt;/em&gt; Happy Hour with work people. Our department is a strange one and the people don't really socialize much. Five us went to a bar within walking distance and had a couple drinks before heading home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Friday, November 12:&lt;/em&gt; A friend's mother is moved from ICU to a normal room in the hospital. If you're the praying type, please pray for her well being. Both my friend and her mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Saturday, November 13: &lt;/em&gt;We weren't in a rush to get out the door to come visit the in-laws. In fact, we didn't leave until about 11:00. I love lazy slow weekend mornings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110044429070876580?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110044429070876580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110044429070876580&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110044429070876580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110044429070876580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/11/good-stuff.html' title='Good Stuff'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-110003693104655583</id><published>2004-11-09T15:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-09T15:48:51.046-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Really Not . . . </title><content type='html'>as bitter as I've sounded in my last few posts. I promise. It's been a rough week already and it is only Tuesday. I may need to take on a &lt;a href="http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/08/august-happiness_01.html#comments"&gt;daily happiness&lt;/a&gt; challenge again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something that made me happy today was traffic wasn't bad on my way in this morning. Another thing to be happy about is that a co-worker has been extremely helpful as I try to piece together various things that have been left for me to pick up as I take on this new role. She deserves a million gold stars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-110003693104655583?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/110003693104655583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=110003693104655583&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110003693104655583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/110003693104655583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/11/im-really-not.html' title='I&apos;m Really Not . . . '/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109995019196451565</id><published>2004-11-08T15:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-08T15:43:11.963-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday Monday</title><content type='html'>What a crazy day it has been. I seem to have over-committed myself in a volunteer group that I belong to. I will be the first to admit that I could be doing more. But, I am at least doing what is expected of me. I can't say the same for the committee chair. I learned via an email to the whole group that she has asked me to do something and respond to her by a particular date. Who knew? Apparently she did. And I suppose she also thought that sending an email stating that she'd already asked me to do something would be an appropriate way to actually ask me to do it. argh. dumb. bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109995019196451565?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109995019196451565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109995019196451565&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109995019196451565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109995019196451565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/11/monday-monday.html' title='Monday Monday'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109943279116788258</id><published>2004-11-02T16:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-02T15:59:51.166-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Not Gonna Die</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure if P Diddy was issuing a threat with his "Vote or Die" campaign, but he can't come get me. I voted this morning on my way to work. I know that I should have voted early when I had the chance. That way I could have avoided the 40 minute wait this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am curious to see how long it will take to declare a winner. This is a &lt;a href="http://www.electoral-vote.com/"&gt;cool site&lt;/a&gt;, and possibly more reliable than major networks will be tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The title to this post also has caused me to get &lt;a href="http://www.letssingit.com/?http://www.letssingit.com/toadies-so-help-me-jesus-px7q9nq.html"&gt;this song&lt;/a&gt; stuck in my head. Lots of good times watching a friend of a &lt;a href="http://www.spuddybuddy.com/"&gt;friend's &lt;/a&gt;band play it during college. Of course, in my own quirky way, I got the lyrics wrong - - the song actually says "I'm not gonna lie." I crack myself up sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109943279116788258?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109943279116788258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109943279116788258&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109943279116788258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109943279116788258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/11/im-not-gonna-die.html' title='I&apos;m Not Gonna Die'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109942954358746387</id><published>2004-11-02T15:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-02T15:05:43.586-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Toy</title><content type='html'>We did it. We bought a piece of exercise equipment, a recumbent bike, over the weekend. We're both getting more squishy and bigger than we'd like to be. The good news is that we both spent some time on it last night. I hope we'll continue to utilize it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest challenge may not be meeting our exercise goals, but to figure out where the kitty will sleep. We've had to move his favorite chair with his favorite blanket on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109942954358746387?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109942954358746387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109942954358746387&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109942954358746387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109942954358746387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/11/new-toy.html' title='New Toy'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109942928934720896</id><published>2004-11-02T14:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2004-11-02T15:01:29.346-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So. Strange. </title><content type='html'>I don't get it. So, the person that wasn't at work on Thursday still hasn't returned to work. She came in on Sunday and cleaned out her desk. Apparently, there's still some confusion as to whether she has resigned or is on a leave of absence. I'm afraid that she herself is rather confused about much more than the status of her employment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been asked to take over her stuff and to communicate that to her customers. Fun. Actually, it is a good thing. I just wish it wouldn't have had to have happened this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109942928934720896?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109942928934720896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109942928934720896&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109942928934720896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109942928934720896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/11/so-strange.html' title='So. Strange. '/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109908331064490628</id><published>2004-10-29T15:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-29T15:55:10.643-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mind Runs Wild</title><content type='html'>I’m hesitant to post about work situations, but I’ve just got to get this one out.  So, there’s this woman who works here (you’re smart people, you probably could have guessed that).  She assumed much of my prior role when I left this company in February of 2003.  I am now in a different role and it is sometimes odd to see her doing what I once considered to be my responsibility.  I’m sure it is odd for her as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her extended family lives out of state.  Apparently there were lots of BIG BAD THINGS happening among the extended family and she had to take a couple of weeks off over the summer and “go home.”  This was all going on about the same time that I began conversations about returning to work here.  At one point, it was thought that she might not return and I might slide back into my old role/her current role.  She came back, I was rehired to do something different. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to make it very clear that I do not wish her any ill will and am perfectly happy doing what I do rather than what she does. Sometimes though, I have to wonder why this woman has not been fired.  Yesterday was one of those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Chili Cook-off began 4:00.  Set up began at 3:00.  The trophies needed to be picked up.  So did the beer and sodas.  She’s nowhere to be found.  Phone calls are placed.  Phone calls are not returned until 12:30.  By that time, others had scrambled to make plans and gotten everything covered.  The VP’s husband picked up the trophies.  Uh, yeah – you read that right.  We called around to some places we’ve ordered beer from in the past to find out if they had an order from her.  Found the beer and found someone in Facilities with a truck to take another co-worker to pick up the beer.  Found the card of the person that was coming from a charitable organization to judge the event - - contacted her to confirm.  I think all the chaos was transparent to the employees.  I hope so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was also a fire drill scheduled in the morning.  She’s the point of contact for our floor and also the HR point of contact for Security in the organization of the whole evacuation program.  Needless to say, she missed that too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think there’s more going on in her life than we all know, or care to know.  She says she had a migraine yesterday.  I suspect depression or marital problems.  I have no idea and it really isn’t any of my business.  But, if you need to be on FMLA, take it.  And unless you are on an approved leave, step up to the plate and at least BE at work when you’re expected to be.  Or call, for fuck’s sake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109908331064490628?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109908331064490628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109908331064490628&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109908331064490628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109908331064490628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/mind-runs-wild.html' title='The Mind Runs Wild'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109906652226328505</id><published>2004-10-29T11:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-29T11:15:22.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Abbreviation Queen</title><content type='html'>I know that I value whole words, so I don't understand what is happening to me.  What am I becoming?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been browsing and commenting on some other blogs and in the last two comments I've left I've used "w/" "btwn" and "ppl." I must stop! One that I hope I'll never succumb to is "Thx."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109906652226328505?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109906652226328505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109906652226328505&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109906652226328505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109906652226328505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/abbreviation-queen.html' title='Abbreviation Queen'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109881059492649019</id><published>2004-10-26T13:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-26T12:09:54.926-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hook Update</title><content type='html'>It has been reported by a reliable source that there are hooks in the public bathrooms at the &lt;a href="http://hillcountry.hyatt.com/property/index.jhtml"&gt;Hill County Hyatt&lt;/a&gt;, a resort outside San Antonio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109881059492649019?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109881059492649019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109881059492649019&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109881059492649019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109881059492649019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/hook-update.html' title='Hook Update'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109881032241179272</id><published>2004-10-26T11:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-26T12:05:22.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Health Updates</title><content type='html'>Mom has been released from the hospital. At least that's what the nurses tell me. I called up there about an hour ago and they say she's gone home. No answer at home. No return phone call from the one I placed to her house last night. I suppose I'll her house again soon and then give Granny a call on her cell phone. I know that the important thing is that she's been released. But, I'm not pleased that I haven't been updated by her husband since I left on Sunday afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The HUSband's sister was released from the hospital on Friday and laid low most of the weekend. She went back yesterday because she had a bad headache and was experiencing sensitivity to light. Turns out that it was her first ever migraine. The jury is still out deciding whether the migraine is related to the electrocution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109881032241179272?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109881032241179272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109881032241179272&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109881032241179272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109881032241179272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/family-health-updates.html' title='Family Health Updates'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109846344722110763</id><published>2004-10-22T11:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-22T11:44:07.273-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shocking News</title><content type='html'>What a bizarre week! My mother-in-law called me on my cell phone this morning. We'd last spoken to them on Tuesday night before I got the news that made me more concerned about Mom, so she didn't know I'd come to see her. I talked to the HUSband last night a little before 8:00 and not since. MIL assumed I'd talked to him since then and referenced his sister also being in the hospital. Huh? I was very confused. SIL electrocuted herself yesterday at work! They took her to an ER and kept her overninght at the hospital. She has some charring (eeewww) on one hand and a massive headache and some pain in her shoulders. The current went in one hand, across the shoulders and out the other. OUCH! FIL went to see her this AM before going to work. She is being released today, thank goodness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109846344722110763?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109846344722110763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109846344722110763&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109846344722110763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109846344722110763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/shocking-news.html' title='Shocking News'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109846286344339354</id><published>2004-10-22T11:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-22T11:34:23.446-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom Update</title><content type='html'>Mom’s still in the hospital.  Still in a shared room.   The part about sharing a room is driving my Grandmother nuts.  It turns out that the only way to determine if a person has Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever is to test for antibodies after the patient has healed.  Who knew?  She is exhibiting the symptoms and responding to the treatment as though she does actually have it, but they’re not certain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out Tuesday night that she had some fluid in her lungs (and was on oxygen) and that her kidneys were being closely monitored.  I was assured that I shouldn’t be overly alarmed.  I decided to come up to Dallas after all.  I left work early on Wednesday and worked from home for a bit, then headed north.  Went to see her at the hospital and then went to Granny’s to stay the night.  My company has an office in Irving that I’ve been able to work from yesterday and today.  Little do they know that most of the work I’ve been doing has been reading blogs. &lt;br /&gt; Mom slept through the night on Wednesday night and almost all day yesterday.  Granny just called from the hospital and said that she’s tired again today.  I’m skipping out of here in about thirty minutes or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109846286344339354?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109846286344339354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109846286344339354&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109846286344339354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109846286344339354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/mom-update.html' title='Mom Update'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109828180503832013</id><published>2004-10-20T09:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-20T09:16:45.036-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Have All the Hooks Gone? </title><content type='html'>Where is a lady to put her purse? I've noticed a trend that I don't like one bit. The hooks in public bathrooms are disappearing. I believe this has something to do with preventing theft of items hanging on hooks. I know it must happen somewhere, but I've never had someone stick their hand in my stall and grab something off of the hook. If it is really that important for you to protect the safety of my purse, please give me a place to put it other than the grimy floor.  A ledge, a hook on the side wall of the stall... somewhere, please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109828180503832013?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109828180503832013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109828180503832013&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109828180503832013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109828180503832013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/where-have-all-hooks-gone.html' title='Where Have All the Hooks Gone? '/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109811249638063475</id><published>2004-10-18T10:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-18T11:56:13.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom's In the Hospital</title><content type='html'>She began to feel bad on Wednesday evening and spent most of the day Thursday in bed with a fever and a spreading rash. She went to the doctor on Friday and she was given some Prednisone and told to take Benadryl and apply Cortisone cream to the rash. The doc even said she wasn’t sure how to treat whatever mom had. Clearly, steroids weren’t the way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The family gathered in Arlington Saturday night to celebrate Granny's birthday, but Mom decided to stay home. When we made it back to Dallas late Saturday night, the rash had spread more and she was still running a fever of over 100 degrees. We took her to the ER and they decided to keep her overnight. I took the car back to Mom's house and her husband stayed with her. Turns out that she didn't get into a room 'til 4:00AM. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went up to the hospital yesterday before heading back to Austin. I was tempted to stay, but felt like I really couldn’t help much. She’s in a shared room, so there’s just one chair in a corner for a visitor to sit in. Her husband stayed with her all night Sat night and went home to shower while we were there. I called last night after we got back and my Uncle and Aunt were there… I think Granny is going to go over today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to her about 30 minutes ago and she said that she thinks the fever has finally broken. The doctors aren't certain what she has, but think that it may be Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. She said the doctor hadn't been in to see her yet today. I imagine that her response to the antibiotic and other medicines will help them finalize a diagnosis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the amusing things to me about all of this is the name under which she is registered at the hospital. She was born with the initials M W C, but always went by the name that starts with a W. She married my dad and went by W C B. Now, she’s married to another man and uses the initials W B H. I have no idea what her legal name is. Her name on the hospital records is M H. Odd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109811249638063475?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109811249638063475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109811249638063475&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109811249638063475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109811249638063475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/moms-in-hospital.html' title='Mom&apos;s In the Hospital'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109777398453661557</id><published>2004-10-14T13:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-14T12:13:04.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Granny!</title><content type='html'>My Grandmother - Granny - is 81 today. In her wonderfully quirky way, she's celebrating her 77th birthday today. You see, last year she decided it was time to start going backwards. She didn't want to get any older. So, instead of turning 80, she decided she was turning 78. And this year, it's 77.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her "babies" (me and my cousin, the youngest grandchildren) turned 30 this year. She had a hard time with her babies reaching that milestone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're headed up to see her this weekend. Mom and her husband, my Aunt &amp;amp; Uncle and at least one of the two cousins (+ wife) will all take her to dinner Saturday night. If she had it her way, she'd cook a roast for us all. Preparing a meal of that magnitude just wears her out these days. She's physically tired more often. But the wit is always there. Granny's got an edge. . . an edge that has rubbed us all the wrong way at times . . . an edge that makes a damn good scratching post . . . an edge that holds together an incredibly soft interior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109777398453661557?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109777398453661557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109777398453661557&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109777398453661557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109777398453661557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/happy-birthday-granny.html' title='Happy Birthday, Granny!'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109768576142924619</id><published>2004-10-13T11:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-13T12:38:10.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday Fun</title><content type='html'>I found this over at &lt;a href="http://www.lifeandthensome.com/"&gt;Life ... &amp; then some&lt;/a&gt;. Come play along. Here is a list of words. You write the word that first comes to mind after reading it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;shaggy&lt;/strong&gt; - carpet&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;biscuit&lt;/strong&gt; - breakfast&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;locomotion&lt;/strong&gt; - c'mon baby&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;strong&gt;monkey&lt;/strong&gt; - bars&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;strong&gt;plunge&lt;/strong&gt; - clogged&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;strong&gt;rock&lt;/strong&gt; - paper , scissors&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;strong&gt;amusement&lt;/strong&gt; - laugh&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;strong&gt;butter&lt;/strong&gt; - bread&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;strong&gt;jacket&lt;/strong&gt; - fall&lt;br /&gt;10. &lt;strong&gt;coaster&lt;/strong&gt; - glass&lt;br /&gt;11. &lt;strong&gt;trailer park&lt;/strong&gt; - tornado&lt;br /&gt;12. &lt;strong&gt;buh-buh-buh - Bennie &amp;amp; the Jetssss&lt;/strong&gt; - Elton John&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109768576142924619?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109768576142924619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109768576142924619&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109768576142924619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109768576142924619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/wednesday-fun.html' title='Wednesday Fun'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109751363296916670</id><published>2004-10-11T11:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-11T11:53:52.970-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Weekend</title><content type='html'>We had a good weekend! I wish they could all be like this one. I skipped out of work on Friday early thinking that that I'd be able to connect from home. But, of course, I ran into difficulties. I need to remember to try to get that resolved today. Friday night we watched &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0328107/"&gt;Man on Fire&lt;/a&gt;. It was much different than I thought it would be, but very good overall. I'm still not used to Denzel not playing a good guy. In this, he was at least on the good side, but did some not so good things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday I hung out with Donna during the day shopping on South Congress and at Barton Creek Mall. It was fun to catch up with her in person. Later that night we decided to include the husbands as well and went out to dinner for some tasty Indian food. Her brother-in-law and his girlfriend joined us also. Good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is Monday #4 at the new/old job. I'm finally starting to get a feel for the type of work that I should be doing. The hard part seems to be motivating myself to do it. Wish me luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109751363296916670?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109751363296916670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109751363296916670&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109751363296916670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109751363296916670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/good-weekend.html' title='Good Weekend'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109718212690997038</id><published>2004-10-07T15:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-22T15:46:58.746-06:00</updated><title type='text'>(Almost) 100 Things</title><content type='html'>This is by no means an all inclusive list . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I was born in August of 1974.&lt;br /&gt;2. I was born 28 days after my due date.&lt;br /&gt;3. I was due on my mother's 28th birthday.&lt;br /&gt;4. My parents gave me two middle names at birth.&lt;br /&gt;5. One of them is my father's grandmother's name.&lt;br /&gt;6. It has eleven letters.&lt;br /&gt;7. Now my maiden name is my (only) legal middle name.&lt;br /&gt;8. I'm an only child.&lt;br /&gt;9. So was my best friend when I was growing up.&lt;br /&gt;10. She seems like the closest thing I have to a sister.&lt;br /&gt;11. I have some amazing girlfriends. Only two of them know about this blog at press time.&lt;br /&gt;12. They are the family I've been able to pick.&lt;br /&gt;13. I have two cousins that are close to my age and used to be very close to them.&lt;br /&gt;14. Now that we're all married, it's been hard to maintain that closeness.&lt;br /&gt;15. I'm the youngest grandchild on that side of the family.&lt;br /&gt;16. And the only grand-daughter.&lt;br /&gt;17. I have lived in Austin since 1997.&lt;br /&gt;18. I know some Japanese - - used to know more.&lt;br /&gt;19. But I left Japan in 1997 and don't know when I'll go back.&lt;br /&gt;20. It is too damn expensive to get there and pay for a place to stay.&lt;br /&gt;21. I liked living in Japan.&lt;br /&gt;22. It never felt like home though.&lt;br /&gt;23. I taught English at the Junior High in a small town.&lt;br /&gt;24. I met some incredible people from all over the world while living in Japan.&lt;br /&gt;25. I grew up in a college town.&lt;br /&gt;26. Both of my parents worked at the University.&lt;br /&gt;27. Dad was Staff (rather than Faculty).&lt;br /&gt;28. Mom taught ESL, but it wasn't a tenured position.&lt;br /&gt;29. They worked year-round.&lt;br /&gt;30. I was exposed to people from many different cultures as a result of my parents' jobs.&lt;br /&gt;31. My first pets were two parakeets.&lt;br /&gt;32. They were a gift from some of my Mom's students.&lt;br /&gt;33. I named them George and Martha after some hippos in a book I liked.&lt;br /&gt;34. The father of on of my friends was a professor in the Oceanography department.&lt;br /&gt;35. Her mother didn't work.&lt;br /&gt;36. Their family spent the summers in Maine.&lt;br /&gt;37. She took sailing lessons.&lt;br /&gt;38. That seemed so extravagant to me.&lt;br /&gt;39. We used to write letters when she was away for the summers.&lt;br /&gt;40. I think I still have some of those letters.&lt;br /&gt;41. I keep too much old crap like that.&lt;br /&gt;42. I have all that old crap in our house.&lt;br /&gt;43. My HUSband still has some of that sort of crap at his parents' house.&lt;br /&gt;44. My parents divorced when I was 25.&lt;br /&gt;45. A month after their 30th anniversary.&lt;br /&gt;46. 5+ years later and I don't think I'm dealing with it very well (still).&lt;br /&gt;47. They're both remarried.&lt;br /&gt;48. And happy.&lt;br /&gt;49. That's good.&lt;br /&gt;50. My HUSband and I were married in 2002.&lt;br /&gt;51. We were engaged on September 8, 2001.&lt;br /&gt;52. He proposed atop &lt;a href="http://www.austinexplorer.com/Hiking/HikeDetail.asp?HikeID=481"&gt;Mount Bonnell&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;53. We closed on our first house on February 2002.&lt;br /&gt;54. This is the longest I've ever lived in one place since I moved from my parents' house to the dorm.&lt;br /&gt;55. We originally thought we'd only live in this house five years or so.&lt;br /&gt;56. The thought of moving again so soon doesn't seem fun to me.&lt;br /&gt;57. &lt;s&gt;We still haven't changed the color of the walls in the living room - - If you have any suggestions, please send them my way.   &lt;/s&gt;&lt;a href="http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/12/new.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;update: we finally painted the living room!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;58. We got our cat in August 2002.&lt;br /&gt;59. His name is Neko.&lt;br /&gt;60. That means "cat" in Japanese.&lt;br /&gt;61. Sometimes we say that his full name is "Gato Neko."&lt;br /&gt;62. Naming a cat "Cat Cat" is/was a silly thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;63. I had a dog for about 6 weeks growing up.&lt;br /&gt;64. His name was Brady Beagle.&lt;br /&gt;65. We had to take him to live on the farm with my grandfather because he was just too much to handle.&lt;br /&gt;66. Yes, he really did go to a farm in Arkansas. We drove him up there in my dad's 1981 Honda Civic.&lt;br /&gt;67. My first car was a 1991 Honda Civic.&lt;br /&gt;68. My second (and current) car is a 2000 Honda Civic.&lt;br /&gt;70. My next car, sadly, will not likely be a Honda.&lt;br /&gt;71. My father-in-law works for GM and can get us quite a deal.&lt;br /&gt;71. I don't like to exercise much.&lt;br /&gt;72. When I was in college, I was better about it. I used to go to 2-3 step aerobic classes a week.&lt;br /&gt;73. The apartment I lived in during the last two years of college shared a parking lot with a shopping center with a gym in it.&lt;br /&gt;74. That same shopping center also had a bar/club with some great drink specials.&lt;br /&gt;75. We used to come home to go to the bathroom if the line got too long.&lt;br /&gt;76. I now try to make it to a yoga class at least once a week.&lt;br /&gt;77. Yoga makes me more aware of my body, especially of my posture.&lt;br /&gt;78. It also helps me relax.&lt;br /&gt;79. I like to think that I'm a rather relaxed or laid-back person. Most of the time I am. But there are times when I strongly believe that there should be a plan and it should be adhered to.&lt;br /&gt;80. I spend too much money on &lt;a href="http://www.bobbibrowncosmetics.com/home.tmpl?ngextredir=1"&gt;Bobbi Brown&lt;/a&gt; make-up. And manicures &amp; pedicures.&lt;br /&gt;81. I'm lucky to have a job that I can wear open-toed shoes to.&lt;br /&gt;82. I don't know how I used to wear hose and heels to work an 8+ hour shift at Casual Corner.&lt;br /&gt;83. I enjoyed the employee discount (probably too much) when I worked at Casual Corner during and immediately after college.&lt;br /&gt;84. I only like to eat eggs when I can't tell the difference between the white and the yolk (mostly scrambled or an omelet).&lt;br /&gt;85. I like to read quite a bit . . . memoirs, chick lit, &amp;amp; historical fiction mostly.&lt;br /&gt;86. I've been in two book clubs. The first one sort of fell apart as many of the members finished graduate school and moved away. The one I'm in now doesn't actually read the same book each month anymore. We talk about what we're reading and get ideas from each other. I like it better that way. Many times, I only had time to read one book a month and never got around to reading ones on my list.&lt;br /&gt;87. I currently have about 20 books in my queue to read.&lt;br /&gt;88. I read more when I traveled for work. That's one reason I miss traveling (flying) for work.&lt;br /&gt;89. I also liked the airline miles (and HiltonHonors points too).&lt;br /&gt;90. I prefer that toilet paper be dispensed from the top of the roll.&lt;br /&gt;91.&lt;br /&gt;92.&lt;br /&gt;93.&lt;br /&gt;94.&lt;br /&gt;95.&lt;br /&gt;96.&lt;br /&gt;97.&lt;br /&gt;98.&lt;br /&gt;99.&lt;br /&gt;100.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109718212690997038?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109718212690997038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109718212690997038&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109718212690997038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109718212690997038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/almost-100-things.html' title='(Almost) 100 Things'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109715904834054268</id><published>2004-10-07T09:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-07T09:24:08.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'>help</title><content type='html'>I want to post "100 things about me," but I don't know where to start.  Please let me know if you have any suggestions.  I feel like the first ten or so items should really define me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109715904834054268?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109715904834054268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109715904834054268&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109715904834054268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109715904834054268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/help.html' title='help'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109715728199929572</id><published>2004-10-07T08:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-07T08:54:42.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Only Child Syndrome</title><content type='html'>I like to think that I'm not a typical only child. But these last few days have made me realize that I do not share well. The HUSband's car is in the shop and we're having to share my car. This is the second day in a row that he's ridden with me during my commute and then takes the car on to his work. I miss my private time listening to NPR and eating my bagel and banana. I miss my passenger seat where I can put all my stuff for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definitely looking forward to Yoga tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109715728199929572?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109715728199929572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109715728199929572&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109715728199929572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109715728199929572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/only-child-syndrome.html' title='Only Child Syndrome'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109700948882239757</id><published>2004-10-05T15:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-05T15:51:28.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Insurance Woes</title><content type='html'>I knew that changing jobs would mean changing insurance, but I forgot how painful that process is.  I started working here on 9/20.  As of yesterday, the new (old) insurance carrier didn’t have our information.  Of course, I had to go through crazy automated menus on the phone before I could get to a real person.  Since I’ve had this coverage before, they were able to bring up my record - - and then there was this pause and realization that their system showed that my coverage ended in February 2003. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The HUSband has a procedure scheduled for Friday and the provider needed to confirm benefits.  I called the Service Center to ask that my information be manually transmitted to the carrier.  Having to go through the motions is frustrating to me.  When I originally came to work here, I was a benefits specialist and did exactly what I was asking be done for me.  In 2000/2001 benefits administration was centralized (moved from divisional to corporate) and I took on a new role.  Yesterday, I really wished that I still had the authority to contact the carrier directly (and the current contact information for the carrier).  It only took two phone calls, but it is now resolved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The provider called this morning and confirmed that we have coverage.  The meds will ship from Houston today and will be at our house in time for Friday’s ordeal.  Hooray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven’t tackled the Dental coverage yet.  And yes, the HUSband has a cleaning scheduled for tomorrow.  What fun! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109700948882239757?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109700948882239757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109700948882239757&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109700948882239757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109700948882239757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/insurance-woes.html' title='Insurance Woes'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109692384024985555</id><published>2004-10-04T15:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-10-04T16:04:00.250-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yum!</title><content type='html'>I've been eating a lot of yummy food lately.  Well, one look at how tight my clothes are you anyone can see that I've been eating a lot of food lately.  Or at least not exercising. Or both.  Probably both.  Yeah, I'll admit it: it is both. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ate this weekend like it was going out of style.  Friday lunch was Mexican at the request of a co-worker.  It was a birthday group lunch thang, so you can't say no.  I didn't HAVE to get the refried beans, though.  We thought we'd have a low-key leftover and snacky dinner on Friday, but the in-laws ended up making it to Austin in time for dinner.  Obviously we hadn't planned for that (in fact, we'd asked specifically about it on Thursday night - - but that's another story), so we headed out to eat again.  And guess what?  Mexican food again!  Saturday I had a bagel for breakfast, some peanut butter crackers around 4 and a big ol' hamburger from a place called Fat Boy Burgers in Johnson City.  It was tasty, and the fries were wonderful, but I shouldn't have.  Yesterday we went to brunch/lunch for a friend's birthday at Cheesecake Factory.  The portions are so huge there - - and the Key Lime Cheesecake was so good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm doing better today - - a Smart Ones frozen meal for lunch and a tangelo for an afternoon snack.  Wish me luck to keep eating this way all week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My biggest challenge while at work is the tin of butter cookies sitting out for public consumption.  All the pretzel shaped ones are gone by now, but the round ones with sugar on top still call out to me.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109692384024985555?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109692384024985555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109692384024985555&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109692384024985555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109692384024985555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/10/yum.html' title='Yum!'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109624783663481515</id><published>2004-09-26T20:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-26T20:21:13.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Up For Grabs</title><content type='html'>Free to a good home:  Any or all of my collection (July 1998 to July 2001) of National Geographic Magazines.  There simply isn't room on the bookshelf anymore.  There isn't really room for the box in the corner that they've been stored in for almost two and half years now.  I just can't bring myself to throw them away (ok - recycle, really).  And, I don't have any kiddos that might need to use them for a school project or something.  And, I don't have any desire to be crafty with them myself.  [My mother decided she was going to make gift bags from magazine pages a few years ago - - quite a woman!]  Anyone interested? &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109624783663481515?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109624783663481515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109624783663481515&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109624783663481515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109624783663481515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/09/up-for-grabs.html' title='Up For Grabs'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109616583042037384</id><published>2004-09-25T21:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-25T21:30:30.420-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Keep</title><content type='html'>While I'm enjoying the new/old job so far, I don't feel like I'm earning my keep just yet.  I'm sure that will come soon.  It has been wonderful to be back among a group of people that know and like and respect me.  It is an odd group, that's for sure.  There is at times this false level of closeness... but at the end of the day, I know that these women really care about eachother.  That makes such a difference.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to start making myself get up earlier and get to work earlier.  The commute is not much different.  But b/c of the location, many people choose to go in early and leave early.  We live close enough that I don't have to work an altered schedule to avoid traffic.  Problem is that when I show up at 8:30, there are some that have been there for two hours already.  I'm not about to start getting there at 6:30.  Maybe I can at least commit to getting out of bed by 6:30.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun news on the blogging front:  I spilled the beans about my blog to one (more) of my real-life pals.  It went well.  She had been keeping a blog, not enabled with comments and not frequently updated.  On Wednesday, she added comments and changed templates.  Many of our other real-life friends know of her blog, but she understands my hesitancy in coming out of the blog-closet.  I don't know quite why I am nervous about it.  Anyone out there reading this that has gone through the same decision process?  If so, did you ultimately decide to share or not?  What were your reasons? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished reading a book (&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0374126445/ref=lpr_g_1/102-5058648-6045750?v=glance&amp;s=books"&gt;Colony Girl&lt;/a&gt;) today.  I have a whole shelf on the bookshelf in our bedroom of the books I am going to read.  It has gotten to the point where I am turning offers of loaned books down.  I have great difficulty not finishing books I've started.  What are you reading? Would you suggest it to others?  How do you decide what to read next? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to put away the 7 pairs of shoes that were scattered throughout the house earlier today.  They had to be picked up so the HUSband could vacuum.  But, now they're all on my side of the bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Saturday Night! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109616583042037384?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109616583042037384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109616583042037384&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109616583042037384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109616583042037384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/09/my-keep.html' title='My Keep'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109567902816940562</id><published>2004-09-20T06:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-20T06:17:08.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First Day (and catching up) </title><content type='html'>Yes, I'm already awake.  And I have been for about an hour.  I got up about 1/2 hour ago.  I suppose I'm anxious about starting the new/old job again.  I guarantee that there are going to be some odd moments.  Maybe some of them will be worth sharing.  I know you're all (ha - like there are enough people reading to say "all") sitting on the edge of your seat waiting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really enjoyed last week.  I think it was good to take some time off to clear my head.  I didn't get everything on the &lt;a href="http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/09/to-do-list.html"&gt;to-do list &lt;/a&gt;done, but that's fine.  It felt good to check so many things off.  I was caught up on the ironing, but then I did more laundry yesterday.  There are fewer than ten pieces that I vow to iron tonight.  Then I might make it to some closet organizing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the outlet malls in San Marcos on Saturday.  I'm most excited about my shoe purchases.  I had intended to get some clothes for work, but was irritated that a particular size didn't fit quite right and didn't buy any new pants.  I'm hoping to start going for walks / going to yoga / doing some other sort of cardio again soon.  It's gotten to the point where I &lt;em&gt;feel&lt;/em&gt; big... not a fun feeling.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh - and I seem to have abandoned the September &lt;a href="http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/09/challenges.html"&gt;Challenge&lt;/a&gt;.  I didn't have too much trouble finding an example of kindness each day.  I had trouble remembering it to post it.  And, I felt like that was all I was posting.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gonna go try to take a 20 min power nap.  Happy Monday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109567902816940562?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109567902816940562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109567902816940562&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109567902816940562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109567902816940562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/09/first-day-and-catching-up.html' title='First Day (and catching up) '/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109539296766264683</id><published>2004-09-16T22:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-16T22:49:27.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mid-Day Movie</title><content type='html'>I went to see &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0333766/"&gt;Garden State&lt;/a&gt; today.  Liked it a lot.  Very thought provoking.  May have to go see it again.  As I was watching it, I was wondering if it will become some sort of cult classic.  I think it has that sort of staying power.  May have to get the soundtrack as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also watched &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0279113/"&gt; The Good Girl&lt;/a&gt; this morning.  Mixed emotions on that one.  The story didn't go as I expected it to.  Well, not quite.  I can almost understand the urge to do something different to break a tedious pattern.  And I know that people make similar decisions.  But... I just keep saying to myself, "I wouldn't do that."  And, that's a good thing.  Doesn't necessarily mean I'm a good girl either, but I know I wouldn't do that.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109539296766264683?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109539296766264683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109539296766264683&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109539296766264683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109539296766264683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/09/mid-day-movie.html' title='Mid-Day Movie'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109528919915026354</id><published>2004-09-15T17:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-15T17:59:59.150-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Proof</title><content type='html'>I got married on November 2, 2002. It has been almost two years, and I thought that I was done with most of this name change crap. After today, I really hope that I am done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I renewed my car's registration in 2003, I went with new SS Card and Driver's License in hand and asked to have the name changed on the registration. I learned at that time that I'd have to amend it with the lien holder and then bring proof of that before being able to change it on my registration. I was assured that there was not a problem to have a car registered to a no-longer-valid name. So, knowing that I would pay my car off in 2004 around the same time that the registration would be up for renewal again, I decided to wait to get the original title from the lien holder and mess with it later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today (btwn haircut and lunch), I go to the Travis County Tax Assessors office. I have the title, the bill for registration renewal (only 2.5 months overdue), proof of insurance and my DL and SS Card. I wait my five minutes or so. I follow a woman back to her desk and tell her that I want to change the name on the title. I show her my DL and she says she needs the marriage certificate. WTF? I had to show that to get the DL and the SS Card. Those documents should be proof that my name has changed. I even kept my former last name as my current middle name. It's pretty easy to tell that I am who I was. Nope, she needs to know &lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt; my name has changed. I don't get it, but she has the power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drive home, find the marriage certificate and return... now with only 45 min to spare before I need to meet my friends for lunch. I got it all updated correctly, and even smiled and feigned laughter when the clerk jokingly said "You're lucky you didn't get a ticket with it being expired for so long."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a mess....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh - and why is it that I make my check out to Nelda Wells Spears (the name of the Tax Assessor)? Shouldn't I make it out to the office or something. She could really do some damage if she got ahold of all those checks. I'm sure there are all sorts of checks and balances in place, but it still makes me curious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109528919915026354?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109528919915026354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109528919915026354&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109528919915026354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109528919915026354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/09/proof.html' title='Proof'/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825660.post-109517600310464714</id><published>2004-09-14T10:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-09-19T15:20:16.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To-Do List </title><content type='html'>in no particular order&lt;br /&gt;for the whole week....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;wash make-up brushes&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;list some stuff on eBay&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;finish books in progress (&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0374126445/ref=lpr_g_1/103-9404287-1304637?v=glance&amp;s=books"&gt;colony girl&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0375420673/ref=lpr_g_1/103-9404287-1304637?v=glance&amp;amp;s=books"&gt;bridegroom&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;ironing&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;plan 1st week of clothes for new (old) job&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;hem the HUSband's pants&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;dust bedroom&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;work on Granny's scrapbook&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;get oil changed&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;change name on car title&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;renew car registration&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;get car inspected&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;haircut on wednesday&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;balance checkbook&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;pay bills&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;order wedding gift for B&amp;L&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;order wedding gift for M&amp;amp;K&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;lunch with EM on wednesday&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;lunch with RM on friday&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;see at least one more mid-day movie&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;return movies to Blockbuster before noon on thursday&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;order birthday gift for ELF&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;clean master bath&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;break down and take cardboard boxes to recyling place&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7825660-109517600310464714?l=qsarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/feeds/109517600310464714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7825660&amp;postID=109517600310464714&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109517600310464714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7825660/posts/default/109517600310464714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://qsarah.blogspot.com/2004/09/to-do-list.html' title='To-Do List '/><author><name>Sarah Barah</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
