<?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-7958804958795889705</id><updated>2012-01-27T11:32:17.886-05:00</updated><category term='Random'/><category term='Experiences'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Music'/><category term='Friends'/><category term='Philosophy'/><category term='Personality'/><category term='Speech'/><category term='Brilliant ideas'/><category term='Prayer'/><category term='Poll'/><category term='Direction'/><category term='Politics'/><category term='Etiquette'/><category term='Seasons/Holidays'/><category term='Games'/><category term='Clothing'/><category term='Perspectives'/><category term='Language'/><category term='Tree'/><category term='Driving'/><category term='Sleep'/><category term='Bible'/><category term='Scents'/><category term='Food'/><category term='Weather'/><category term='Work'/><category term='Warsaw'/><category term='History'/><category term='Money'/><category term='Ken'/><category term='Dreams'/><category term='Police'/><category term='Heaven'/><category term='Media'/><category term='School'/><title type='text'>The Education of Little Tree</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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>206</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-3937957297787814463</id><published>2008-11-05T16:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T16:03:40.386-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Mice</title><content type='html'>Well, Mousy's been caught.  But now there's a new one I call "Gio."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-3937957297787814463?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/3937957297787814463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=3937957297787814463' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3937957297787814463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3937957297787814463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/11/mice.html' title='Mice'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-6370784992274288356</id><published>2008-10-29T13:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T13:59:55.653-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seasons/Holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Clothing'/><title type='text'>Season of Bundling</title><content type='html'>Today was the first day this fall season that I wore my winter coat.  I was holding out for after November 1st, but gave in.  Last year I was able to hold out until November 11&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-6370784992274288356?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/6370784992274288356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=6370784992274288356' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6370784992274288356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6370784992274288356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/10/season-of-bundling.html' title='Season of Bundling'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-5061774839329945747</id><published>2008-10-28T12:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T12:17:36.314-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Morning Mouse</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SQc6_psOKyI/AAAAAAAAAL0/hdUktBUk-Js/s1600-h/mouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262239554803215138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SQc6_psOKyI/AAAAAAAAAL0/hdUktBUk-Js/s200/mouse.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yesterday morning I was greeted at work by a brown mouse. As I made noise putting away my lunch in the little kitchen area, it scurried about the floor until it found a corner to squeeze into. I wasn't pleased to see it, but by the end of the day, I felt the urge to name it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The last mouse found in our office was given the name "Emily's Mouse." I guess this was because I was the first to see it and make it known that there was a mouse. But I can't see us naming future mice Emily's Mouse 2, 3, etc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mind has fallen on "Mousy," but this isn't any more original. I just don't want to be one of those people who gives animals distinctly human names such as Winston or Alexandria. I find this over the top, especially for something that I want dead.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5061774839329945747?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5061774839329945747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5061774839329945747' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5061774839329945747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5061774839329945747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/10/morning-mouse.html' title='Morning Mouse'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SQc6_psOKyI/AAAAAAAAAL0/hdUktBUk-Js/s72-c/mouse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-2639763480776233870</id><published>2008-10-23T11:46:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T11:57:35.599-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Language'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='History'/><title type='text'>Land of the Indians</title><content type='html'>I came across a glossary of Indian names and found some of them humorous.  Here's a few: &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Chicago - "Place Of Wild Onions, Bad Smell", a river; city in Il., founded in 1833, site of Ft. Dearborn.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Indianapolis -  Chan-tun-oon-gi, "Make A Noise Place", Capital of Indiana.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mishawaka - "Country of Dead Trees", name of Shawnee princess, city east of S. Bend, Indiana.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tuxedo - "Place of beans"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wakaruso - "Hip Deep In Mud", town in Indiana.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Winnebago - "People Of The Stinking Water", a tribe in WI.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;I'm loving Chicago and Winnebago.  There were also some very nice names:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Idaho - "It Is Morning", our 43rd state.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Passaic - "Peaceful Valley", a river in NJ.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ohio - "Beautiful River", an Iroquois word, river, and our 17th state.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;My fave is Willamette ("Running Water", a river in Oregon).  A few months ago I was joking with my brother that if I had an Indian name, it should be Running Water.  Tallulah pretty much means the same thing, too.  I don't know the tribe that Willamette originated from, but Tallulah seems to come from the Choctaws--so not really Miami.  Oh, well.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-2639763480776233870?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/2639763480776233870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=2639763480776233870' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2639763480776233870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2639763480776233870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/10/land-of-indians.html' title='Land of the Indians'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-4208245504290521108</id><published>2008-10-21T11:50:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T12:13:41.942-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brilliant ideas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><title type='text'>Cooking with Emily</title><content type='html'>Last night I decided to cook. This is something I hardly ever do anymore. On occasion I make an omelet on a Saturday morning, but I'm pretty much in a microwave rut. I had found a recipe last month for &lt;a href="http://food.realsimple.com/realsimple/recipefinder.dyn?action=displayRecipe&amp;amp;recipe_id=1840616"&gt;sweet potato soup &lt;/a&gt;that looked tempting, so I saw it as an opportunity. The following is a step-by-step guide for you to follow if you feel like duplicating my experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SP38nuv7wjI/AAAAAAAAALs/8e2Ys_tpS-s/s1600-h/1008_potato-apple-soup_158.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259637699332784690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SP38nuv7wjI/AAAAAAAAALs/8e2Ys_tpS-s/s320/1008_potato-apple-soup_158.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Step one: Look at the recipe to figure out what you need to buy.&lt;/em&gt; This was pretty easy. I basically just needed to pick up the potatoes, celery, and apple. (We have plenty of apples at the house, but we didn't have the specified type, and I wanted to follow the recipe to the t.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Step two: Start heating the sweet potatoes in the oven as you prepare the rest of the ingredients. &lt;/em&gt;This is where it became a little tricky. The potatoes weren't a problem, but upon looking at the recipe closer, I saw it asked for a stalk of celery. I originally thought a stalk was one singular branch or stick you pull off of the whole bunch, but when asking my mom for clarification, she said to use the whole bunch. At the time it didn't occur to me to seek further clarification online. So I dutifully cut up a ridiculous amount of celery, along with a Granny Smith apple and an onion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After looking at a large saucepan exploding with celery, I rethought what I was doing. It didn't look right. And besides, the recipe I was making was called "Roasted Sweet Potato and Apple Soup," not "Roasted Sweet Potato and a %$@# Load of Celery." I decided to take out a sizable amount of celery before adding the partially baked sweet potatoes, but there was still about half to two-thirds of the original amount left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Step three: Add the sweet potatoes and water, continuing to heat. &lt;/em&gt;Easiest step. Anytime I get to smell sweet potatoes and sneak some is good. And scooping their insides out of the skin was easier than I thought it would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Step four: Blend.&lt;/em&gt; I used my cheap handheld blender, which I bought in the spring for fruit smoothies. It blended well, except for spraying the hot liquid all over the counter, my shirt, my arms, and my face. After a while I developed a technique that proved less hazardous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Step five: Taste. &lt;/em&gt;I took a bite. It tasted okay, but the celery was overpowering. The whole point was to have sweet potato soup, not celery soup with some sweet potatoes added in. The sweet potato coloring was there, as well as some of the texture, but I basically made "Celery Soup (w/ a little sweet potato)." Mom had a whole bowl before going to bed and said it was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Step six: Clean up and sit back.&lt;/em&gt; I gave the recipe another lookover and noticed it claimed to take one hour, start to finish. Nope. It was definitely over two hours. But next time, with the new knowledge of what a "stalk" is, I should do better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-4208245504290521108?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/4208245504290521108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=4208245504290521108' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4208245504290521108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4208245504290521108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/10/cooking-with-emily.html' title='Cooking with Emily'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SP38nuv7wjI/AAAAAAAAALs/8e2Ys_tpS-s/s72-c/1008_potato-apple-soup_158.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-1970696284513454478</id><published>2008-10-16T11:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T11:41:27.202-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Don't Mess with my Coffee!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I noticed this message on a package of coffee I was using:  "100% Pure Coffee."  I had no idea that there was a problem of people selling things as coffee that were not, in fact, coffee.  But maybe there is.  I mean, why else would a company find the need to print this message on its coffee?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So watch out, my friends!  If your coffee doesn't say "100% Pure Coffee," you might be drinking something else.  And if you can't look at the packaging yourself, like if you're paying the big bucks for some at a coffee shop, don't hesitate to ask them, "Hey, I know you're selling this to me as coffee, but are you sure it's 100% pure?  I don't want any imitations or fillers here."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-1970696284513454478?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/1970696284513454478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=1970696284513454478' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1970696284513454478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1970696284513454478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/10/dont-mess-with-my-coffee.html' title='Don&apos;t Mess with my Coffee!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-4723659158716505692</id><published>2008-10-15T11:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T16:21:49.701-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seasons/Holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poll'/><title type='text'>Trick-or-Treating</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;My latest poll has surprised me. Five of us voted, and four claim to have trick-or-treated &lt;em&gt;every year&lt;/em&gt; as a child. I thought there'd be at least one "never" and a few more "sometimes," because surely there'd be at least one of us whose parents thought Halloween was absolutely 100% evil. Apparently not.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I will identify myself as the one and only "sometimes." My trick-or-treating experiences include:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;My mom, brother, and I attempted to go door-to-door in our neighborhood one year, but either we were hours early or we had the wrong day, so we just never did it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;After I attended a "harvest" party with some church friends, their parents took us to a few houses of people we knew.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My mom took my brother and me to a nursing home that was all decked out. I think they gave away candy there, too. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-4723659158716505692?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/4723659158716505692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=4723659158716505692' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4723659158716505692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4723659158716505692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/10/trick-or-treating.html' title='Trick-or-Treating'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-21412486778366419</id><published>2008-10-08T17:01:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T17:04:06.665-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seasons/Holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><title type='text'>Candy Happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SO0f7TT9QqI/AAAAAAAAALU/ABtwjd81opI/s1600-h/candy.aisle.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I stopped by Owens last night, only planning on picking up a few items... until I walked by the Halloween aisle. I got a little excited and bought a bunch of candy. But I had only grabbed a hand basket on my way in, so hauling them to the checkout involved me communicating telepathically to the basket's contents, "Don't drop, don't drop."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254891689087106834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SO0gJk0wfxI/AAAAAAAAALc/VYO8rHLh0s0/s320/candy.aisle.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;My early purchase makes me appear optimistic, for supposedly I believe I am capable of only eating a few pieces of candy so that there'll be plenty for trick-or-treaters come the 31st. The candy is currently stored in my absent brother's bedroom, so this should help me out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just a note of warning, I did sample from the Twizzlers variety pack, and I advise you to avoid this purchase. The temporal Halloween flavors resemble Play-Doh and the texture makes you wonder how many Halloweens ago it was actually made.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-21412486778366419?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/21412486778366419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=21412486778366419' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/21412486778366419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/21412486778366419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/10/candy-happy.html' title='Candy Happy'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SO0gJk0wfxI/AAAAAAAAALc/VYO8rHLh0s0/s72-c/candy.aisle.2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-401530765991774759</id><published>2008-10-07T17:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T17:09:33.426-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><title type='text'>Breakfast at Tiffany's</title><content type='html'>This is one of my favorite songs.  I remember watching the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BcmH1LdPNKA"&gt;video&lt;/a&gt; in the '90s and thinking they were cool.  If you don't watch all of it, at least watch the jumping sequence that starts 40 seconds in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-401530765991774759?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/401530765991774759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=401530765991774759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/401530765991774759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/401530765991774759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/10/breakfast-at-tiffanys.html' title='Breakfast at Tiffany&apos;s'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-6334108946177403066</id><published>2008-10-03T16:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T16:05:06.481-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seasons/Holidays'/><title type='text'>Not Yet</title><content type='html'>I almost felt like listening to Christmas music this morning.  Until Thanksgiving rolls around, I will abstain.  I ask everyone else to do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And apparently my newest poll is the lamest yet.  I'm not too surprised.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-6334108946177403066?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/6334108946177403066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=6334108946177403066' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6334108946177403066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6334108946177403066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/10/not-yet.html' title='Not Yet'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-1255279549022515089</id><published>2008-09-26T20:08:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T20:39:41.635-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Perspectives'/><title type='text'>She's What?</title><content type='html'>The Office, Season Four, "Goodbye, Toby":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SN16Ad0uf6I/AAAAAAAAAIA/OAKASE8YeQo/s1600-h/angela.group.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250486889008234402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SN16Ad0uf6I/AAAAAAAAAIA/OAKASE8YeQo/s400/angela.group.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did anything in the above photo catch your eye?  If you're a guy, you didn't see anything strange.  If you're a gal, you noticed something.  Angela Kinsey, who plays uptight accountant Angela Martin, is wearing a light blouse and a dark jumper.  And wait!  Her arms don't look right.  Why would her arms be folded that way?  It doesn't look natural...  She must be pregnant.  And she was for most of Season 4, but her pregnancy did not fit in with her character's life, so they used little tricks to hide it.  On many occasions, she would hide behind her desk, the copier, a bouquet of flowers, another actor, or a door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250487015484760818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SN16H0_FIvI/AAAAAAAAAII/mXPKDy30Yr8/s400/angela.door.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes they just shot her from the chest up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250487309459246066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SN16Y8IDy_I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/cF5g0EEtHXE/s400/angela.cutoff.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're a guy and still don't believe me, take a look at the following photo.  It shows Angela (and Rainn Wilson) at her onset baby shower.  There's no getting around the fact that she is expecting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250487638441493874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SN16sFrihXI/AAAAAAAAAIY/GD7lN-KFvR4/s400/angela.rainn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;While watching the later episodes of Season 4, my mom and I immediately picked up on Angela's pregnancy and would mention something about it, with my dad being oblivious:  "What?  She's pregnant?"  Upon talking to other fellow Office fans, it seems the trend is strong:  Gals were aware of Angela's pregnancy, while guys were clueless.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-1255279549022515089?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/1255279549022515089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=1255279549022515089' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1255279549022515089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1255279549022515089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/09/shes-what.html' title='She&apos;s What?'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SN16Ad0uf6I/AAAAAAAAAIA/OAKASE8YeQo/s72-c/angela.group.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-3765013751734957021</id><published>2008-09-24T12:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T12:24:40.985-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Hypothetically Speaking</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SNpphLHw2pI/AAAAAAAAAHw/i2FUXWbqfiM/s1600-h/talking+guys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249624334295685778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SNpphLHw2pI/AAAAAAAAAHw/i2FUXWbqfiM/s320/talking+guys.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last night my prof was inserting a hypothetical example into the class period to flesh out a thought. Her example involved a couple of guys talking about their girlfriends at work. At this, the guys in class started to chuckle. Noticing this, the prof corrected herself saying the guys in the hypothetical situation were actually talking about sports or some other topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;From my knowledge, guys seem to talk about sports, television, movies, current events, and other random topics. If a guy has a wife, he might talk about her. But guys do not talk about their girlfriends, at least not in a chatty way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-3765013751734957021?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/3765013751734957021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=3765013751734957021' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3765013751734957021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3765013751734957021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/09/hypothetically-speaking.html' title='Hypothetically Speaking'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SNpphLHw2pI/AAAAAAAAAHw/i2FUXWbqfiM/s72-c/talking+guys.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-4383489750453851473</id><published>2008-09-19T11:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T11:43:54.684-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seasons/Holidays'/><title type='text'>In Honor of Fall</title><content type='html'>I live on the clumsy side of life.  It is not uncommon for me to spill or drop something.  But these last couple of weeks I have been especially ungraceful.  I am blaming this on the approaching autumnal equinox.  See, my body is so in tune with nature that it knows it needs to make things fall in honor of fall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-4383489750453851473?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/4383489750453851473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=4383489750453851473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4383489750453851473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4383489750453851473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/09/in-honor-of-fall.html' title='In Honor of Fall'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-2171605504800386191</id><published>2008-09-17T17:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T17:16:45.615-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Ripe with Possibility</title><content type='html'>Monday evening I was about to head into our backyard to read when I saw them:  the neighborhood deer.  Dad was nearby and told me to throw rocks at them.  I said, "Isn't it bad for rocks to be in the grass [when you have to mow the lawn]?"  He reluctantly agreed, but then offered me a ripe banana instead, which I didn't take.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-2171605504800386191?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/2171605504800386191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=2171605504800386191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2171605504800386191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2171605504800386191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/09/ripe-with-possibility.html' title='Ripe with Possibility'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-3980105605650801590</id><published>2008-09-16T11:50:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T11:52:41.871-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Perspectives'/><title type='text'>Never Arrive</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Let me share someone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt; wisdom:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If you put off getting married until you are completely ready to be the perfect spouse, you will never be married.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If you put off having kids until you are ready to be the perfect parent, you will never have kids (unless God intervenes).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If you put off sharing your faith until you are completely and utterly prepared, you will always be silent.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You will never arrive.  Step out in boldness, trusting God to use you, weaknesses and all.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-3980105605650801590?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/3980105605650801590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=3980105605650801590' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3980105605650801590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3980105605650801590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/09/never-arrive.html' title='Never Arrive'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-5423633418172001815</id><published>2008-09-13T00:38:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T01:24:38.394-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Direction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Perspectives'/><title type='text'>Closer to Fine - The Indigo Girls</title><content type='html'>Here's to friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm trying to tell you something about my life&lt;br /&gt;Maybe give me insight between black and white&lt;br /&gt;And the best thing you've ever done for me&lt;br /&gt;Is to help me take my life less seriously&lt;br /&gt;Its only life after all&lt;br /&gt;Yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well darkness has a hunger that's insatiable&lt;br /&gt;And lightness has a call that's hard to hear&lt;br /&gt;I wrap my fear around me like a blanket&lt;br /&gt;I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it&lt;br /&gt;I'm crawling on your shores&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains&lt;br /&gt;I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains&lt;br /&gt;There's more than one answer to these questions&lt;br /&gt;Pointing me in a crooked line&lt;br /&gt;And the less I seek my source for some definitive&lt;br /&gt;(the less I seek my source)&lt;br /&gt;The closer I am to fine&lt;br /&gt;The closer I am to fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I went to see the doctor of philosophy&lt;br /&gt;With a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee&lt;br /&gt;He never did marry or see a b-grade movie&lt;br /&gt;He graded my performance, he said he could see through me&lt;br /&gt;I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind&lt;br /&gt;Got my paper and I was free&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains&lt;br /&gt;I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains&lt;br /&gt;There's more than one answer to these questions&lt;br /&gt;Pointing me in a crooked line&lt;br /&gt;The less I seek my source for some definitive&lt;br /&gt;(the less I seek my source)&lt;br /&gt;The closer I am to fine&lt;br /&gt;The closer I am to fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend&lt;br /&gt;And I woke up with a headache like my head against a board                                    Twice as cloudy as I'd been the night before&lt;br /&gt;And I went in seeking clarity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains&lt;br /&gt;I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains&lt;br /&gt;Yeah we go to the doctor, we go to the mountains&lt;br /&gt;We look to the children, we drink from the fountains&lt;br /&gt;Yeah we go to the bible, we go through the workout&lt;br /&gt;We read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout&lt;br /&gt;There's more than one answer to these questions&lt;br /&gt;Pointing me in a crooked line&lt;br /&gt;The less I seek my source for some definitive&lt;br /&gt;(the less I seek my source)&lt;br /&gt;The closer I am to fine&lt;br /&gt;The closer I am to fine&lt;br /&gt;The closer I am to fine &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disclaimer: (What's a good Emily post w/out a disclaimer?!) I believe there is Truth and an Answer. I like these lyrics in terms of the temporal life we have now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5423633418172001815?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5423633418172001815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5423633418172001815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5423633418172001815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5423633418172001815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/09/closer-to-fine-indigo-girls.html' title='Closer to Fine - The Indigo Girls'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-5394871692225028378</id><published>2008-09-10T11:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T11:45:49.252-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Perspectives'/><title type='text'>Whole Wide World</title><content type='html'>In honor of the discussion on &lt;em&gt;To Seek or Not to Seek?&lt;/em&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/E6pmuA4d2cQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/E6pmuA4d2cQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5394871692225028378?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5394871692225028378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5394871692225028378' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5394871692225028378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5394871692225028378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/09/whole-wide-world.html' title='Whole Wide World'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-6309881902757577661</id><published>2008-09-08T11:43:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T11:45:30.891-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seasons/Holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Fall Is in the Air</title><content type='html'>I read outside yesterday afternoon.  It was nice being bundled up in a sweater and blanket with the sweet smell of fall in the air.  But the trees kept pelting me with dead leaves and seeds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-6309881902757577661?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/6309881902757577661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=6309881902757577661' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6309881902757577661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6309881902757577661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/09/fall-is-in-air.html' title='Fall Is in the Air'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-1966354508219420155</id><published>2008-09-06T22:35:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T22:45:38.442-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Prayer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poll'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Direction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Perspectives'/><title type='text'>To Seek or Not to Seek?</title><content type='html'>I am single.  I’m not going to say how much I love being single or how much I hate it.  My feelings aren’t the point of this post.  My aim is to convey the contrast in two kinds of thought regarding my singleness and to find out what you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have two friends.  Both of them are married, and I consider both of them to be more mature than me in the Christian faith.  But they each have their own thoughts toward how a single person should live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend A thinks that I should “get myself out there.”  He believes single people shouldn’t merely pray that God bring them a spouse, but they need to be actively looking for someone who fits their requirements.  (And if you’re female, you should not hide yourself in a closet, but make sure a large number of available guys know you exist.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has told me many times that I should church hop for this purpose.  When I protest, saying I love the service I currently attend and would hate to go to another just to snag a guy, he says that it’s not a good enough excuse.  He believes that asking God for something without actively doing your part is senseless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend B believes that I should not concern myself with looking for a spouse.  He thinks I should just follow God throughout my day and week, trusting that He will basically smack me in the face when the right person comes my way.  I shouldn’t do anything differently just to find someone.  For a guy or a girl to actively look for a significant other would be to take matters into his or her own hands and would be to tell God, “I don’t need you.  I can do things on my own.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both friends seem logical in their own ways, yet they are just about as similar as night and day.  So, what are your thoughts?  Do you think one way makes more sense or is more biblical than the other?  Or does it even matter which route someone takes?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-1966354508219420155?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/1966354508219420155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=1966354508219420155' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1966354508219420155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1966354508219420155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/09/to-seek-or-not-to-seek.html' title='To Seek or Not to Seek?'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-5032108892604767845</id><published>2008-09-04T11:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T12:04:24.833-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Politics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><title type='text'>TV Unity</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Last night at my house...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Me:  Everyone [political hopefuls] always says they want to make the world a better place.  No one ever says they want to make it worse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Dad:  That's right!  I need to find that party and join.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My parents have been lamenting recently.  They know what is ahead.  For two weeks our television showed nothing but Olympic coverage.  Then came Democratic National Convention coverage and commentary.  This week is the Republican National Convention.  But after a four-week span of athletic and political intensity, what's to come?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I comforted Dad with the knowledge that The Office will be starting up again on September 25 (mark your calendars!), but this doesn't do much for Mom.  Our house needs more unifying televised events!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5032108892604767845?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5032108892604767845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5032108892604767845' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5032108892604767845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5032108892604767845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/09/tv-unity.html' title='TV Unity'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-5270082234484005809</id><published>2008-08-28T18:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T18:59:04.565-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Layout Changes</title><content type='html'>In case you haven't noticed, I've recently made changes to the layout.  I was getting tired of the old look, and considering Monday will mark my one-year anniversary of residing at blogspot, I thought it was time.  The one thing that's bugging me is my dissatisfaction with the post title colors that I've tried so far.  More to develop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the deal.  If there's something about my layout that you find hard to read or ridiculous, please let me know within a few days.  I might even allow a week.  But once I've officially decided, I don't want to do much more tweaking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5270082234484005809?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5270082234484005809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5270082234484005809' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5270082234484005809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5270082234484005809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/08/layout-changes.html' title='Layout Changes'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-5949254693159530930</id><published>2008-08-28T18:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T18:23:39.402-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Politics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Speech'/><title type='text'>Bill Clinton: Master of Speeches</title><content type='html'>I've been watching some of the Democratic National Convention coverage on television. Last night was, by far, the best. No matter what your opinion is of Bill Clinton, the president, or Bill Clinton, the person, you have to love him as Bill Clinton, the master of speeches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He can speak on any topic, truthfully or not, and draw you in. His presentation is so natural, you &lt;em&gt;want&lt;/em&gt; to love him, even if you cannot. That bite of the lower lip makes you question him, but that sly smile brings you back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I'm not sure about his tongue action in the latter portion of his Wednesday speech. Leftover supper? A recent trip to the dentist? Or perhaps it's his new way of making himself pause for effect. Who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following are six parts to his speech from last night. If you just want to get a taste, I recommend the first and last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Part 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Mhh2ETJj5gg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Mhh2ETJj5gg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Part 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ezp2RXOjNoU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ezp2RXOjNoU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Part 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/24Og8Ic8QOA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/24Og8Ic8QOA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Part 4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8rUOAVq1svw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8rUOAVq1svw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Part 5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/t0QyDFsWAT8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/t0QyDFsWAT8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Part 6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MFtCD_A5GJk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MFtCD_A5GJk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5949254693159530930?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5949254693159530930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5949254693159530930' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5949254693159530930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5949254693159530930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/08/bill-clinton-master-of-speeches.html' title='Bill Clinton: Master of Speeches'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-3466910258855801050</id><published>2008-08-28T11:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T12:10:18.559-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Politics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Direction'/><title type='text'>Brainer or No-Brainer?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I previously thought that voting in the upcoming presidential election would be a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;no-brainer&lt;/span&gt; for me, but now I'm reconsidering my previous stance.  As November approaches, I need to dig a little deeper and consider what the best choice is.  We'll see what I end up deciding.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;This road of indecision is brought to you by a conversation with my brother.  (He's very convincing.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-3466910258855801050?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/3466910258855801050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=3466910258855801050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3466910258855801050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3466910258855801050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/08/brainer-or-no-brainer.html' title='Brainer or No-Brainer?'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-4532368740582640529</id><published>2008-08-27T17:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T17:20:50.537-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>New World Record</title><content type='html'>In the last few weeks there have been several new world records made. All are amazing, and most are in the realm of athletics due to the 2008 Olympics. However, there is one non-athletic record that I know of that took place in my home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning my brother packed up his car and left for his junior year of college. Then on Sunday morning, my mom found me as I was getting ready for church to tell me, "I miss him already." The reasons that make this a world record are as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;The verbal expression of missing my brother occurred less than 24 hours after his departure.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;This is his junior year of college, not his freshman year. He's been away before.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;It already felt as if my brother wasn't home for a large portion of the summer due to his work and sleep schedule.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;This third reason isn't very solid, though. Despite his odd schedule, we still knew he was living at home and would be back within a matter of hours. Somehow that made it different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier this week, as I was lying in bed at night, I found myself expecting to hear the front door open at any moment, followed by the sound of almost inaudible footsteps and the rustling of a reused plastic grocery bag. When I realized that I wouldn't hear him because he'd gone back to school, my heart sank a little.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-4532368740582640529?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/4532368740582640529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=4532368740582640529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4532368740582640529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4532368740582640529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-world-record.html' title='New World Record'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-6450947516097141700</id><published>2008-08-22T11:41:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T11:53:53.983-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Warsaw'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tree'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Clothing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Etiquette'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Front-Page News</title><content type='html'>Folks, I've already expressed my love for the Warsaw area, but reading the Times-Union this week has given me the feeling that I live in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hicksville&lt;/span&gt;. Take yesterday's front-page...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SK7esIpoZeI/AAAAAAAAAGg/72j6xh6Ht98/s1600-h/tater+dog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237368266496173538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SK7esIpoZeI/AAAAAAAAAGg/72j6xh6Ht98/s320/tater+dog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This picture was shown only because it supposedly (or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;supposably&lt;/span&gt;, whichever you prefer) looks like a dog. This was deemed worthy of the front-page. And right next to it was the account of a guy who got into an altercation with his son-in-law and began to shoot at the tires on his son-in-law's vehicle. This was also found on the front-page of the paper.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And if you go back a few more days, you'll find the news that a man was found sitting naked in some pine trees. I think this was included on a later page, though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what have we learned this week? If you want to get on the front-page of the newspaper, find oddly shaped produce or shoot at a car. But if you expose yourself indecently while hanging around some foliage, you won't make the cut.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-6450947516097141700?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/6450947516097141700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=6450947516097141700' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6450947516097141700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6450947516097141700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/08/front-page-news.html' title='Front-Page News'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SK7esIpoZeI/AAAAAAAAAGg/72j6xh6Ht98/s72-c/tater+dog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-5886474679899154307</id><published>2008-08-15T16:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T16:35:34.625-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Speech'/><title type='text'>Airy Diction</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I was wrong.  Did you hear that?  I was wrong.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I gave someone a hard time the other day for saying "supposably," thinking it was the incorrect and nonexistant form of "supposedly."  I looked it up, as I promised, and it actually exists!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The next word up for inspection?  Grovel.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5886474679899154307?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5886474679899154307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5886474679899154307' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5886474679899154307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5886474679899154307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/08/airy-diction.html' title='Airy Diction'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-322667055946857047</id><published>2008-08-12T17:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T17:09:44.271-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Alternative Preferences</title><content type='html'>I don't think my boss has the same musical tastes as me.  Last week I was listening to &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/alternateroutes"&gt;The Alternate Routes&lt;/a&gt; when he came by and said something about it being hillbilly music.  In their (and my) defense, I said that it's alternative rock.  And today I was listening to &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/matthewsantos"&gt;Matthew Santos&lt;/a&gt;, who is more on the folk side of alternative, and he asked me, "Is he sick?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say what you will about my music preferences, I will not be deterred!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-322667055946857047?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/322667055946857047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=322667055946857047' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/322667055946857047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/322667055946857047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/08/alternative-preferences.html' title='Alternative Preferences'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-999750591813588187</id><published>2008-08-11T16:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T16:59:46.887-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brilliant ideas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Clothing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experiences'/><title type='text'>Note to Self No. 32</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;When a friend gives you advice, listen to it. (And that means all of it, not just part of it.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This weekend I tried something new... tanning. This wasn't for vanity's sake, at least that's what I'd like to think. This was for the sake of my bridesmaid dress. I had developed a slight farmer's tan over the summer and thought a little tanning bed action might help me out. Upon hearing of my plans, a friend or two cautioned me to only go a few minutes. I agreed with them, but when it came down to it, I added a few more minutes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The ten on Friday were okay; part of me only became slightly pink. After a couple days, I decided to up my time to 15 minutes on Sunday. I followed this with my usual Sunday afternoon nap, after which, I awoke to slight stiffness. As the evening wore on, my shades of pink quickly darkened to [wait for it] red. So my tanning escapades have probably come to an end.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As I moved around last night and today, I remembered scenes from the I Love Lucy episode where Lucy gets burnt to a crisp. And I definitely had a moment last night in which I could have sworn I was going to lose my supper. But my usual routine, which includes immediately sipping cool water, quickly subdued the situation.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;However, the tanning hasn't made things much worse. I think it did even out my previous tan lines a little, and most of the red will be covered by the dress. And there's still several days for it to significantly fade.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now if I only had a few bruises, my patriotic look would be complete.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-999750591813588187?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/999750591813588187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=999750591813588187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/999750591813588187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/999750591813588187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/08/note-to-self-no-32.html' title='Note to Self No. 32'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-3978409287416137202</id><published>2008-08-07T11:50:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T11:52:02.236-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brilliant ideas'/><title type='text'>Poor Judgement</title><content type='html'>The other day while I was working on something for my class, I thought I had a really funny thought to post on my blog.  So last night I looked at the note I had jotted down, with the intention of posting it here.  Upon looking at it, I decided that, in some circumstances, my judgement is poor.  My hilarious thought was quite dull.  Very boring.  So boring that it would almost be embarrassing to post it.  And yet I'll still post it so you can laugh at how boring it is.  Are you ready?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple days ago, as I was furiously working away at a paper, I felt like my brain had momentarily frozen up.  So I exclaimed aloud, "Brain!  Function!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-3978409287416137202?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/3978409287416137202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=3978409287416137202' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3978409287416137202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3978409287416137202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/08/poor-judgement.html' title='Poor Judgement'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-803290136809489654</id><published>2008-08-01T20:13:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T20:39:48.319-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Driving'/><title type='text'>All-Exclusive Family Vacation</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow morning the fam will head south to visit family, leaving me with a list of duties to make sure get done while they're gone.  They're very simple things, such as getting the mail, checking for phone messages, watering the lawn, and taking out the trash.  But they're things I don't normally do.  Any bets I'll go a few days forgetting some of them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, they'll be taking our best vehicle, the newer of our Buicks.  It makes sense, considering the distance they're going.  Then I'll get to drive our second best car, the little Saturn I used to call mine that my brother now uses.  (That's right, the one that made friends with a &lt;a href="http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2007/09/jinx.html"&gt;deer&lt;/a&gt; last fall.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're a strange family, swapping vehicles as the occasion calls for it.  The first few times my boss saw me come to work in one car and leave in another (because a family member switched cars with me partway through the day), he seemed to get a little confused.  I guess it does confuse even me at times.  A few days ago I filled up the Buick's tank only to realize that it did me no good (because it will be out of the state for a week).  Phooey.  I hope the Saturn's full.  Even if it's not, though, it'll be much less than my usual "boat-of-a-car" Buick fill-up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-803290136809489654?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/803290136809489654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=803290136809489654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/803290136809489654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/803290136809489654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/08/all-exclusive-family-vacation.html' title='All-Exclusive Family Vacation'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-3671297692308759551</id><published>2008-07-30T11:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T11:44:47.025-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><title type='text'>How the Day Sounds</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Cxb-DCBKeLU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Cxb-DCBKeLU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this music video.  First off, I love the grocery store (as long as there aren't too many other people).  Secondly, the nerdy choreography is too cute.  Finally, it's Greg Laswell!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-3671297692308759551?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/3671297692308759551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=3671297692308759551' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3671297692308759551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3671297692308759551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/07/how-day-sounds.html' title='How the Day Sounds'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-2035224321484406698</id><published>2008-07-24T11:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T11:51:15.760-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Perspectives'/><title type='text'>The Dark Knight</title><content type='html'>I saw The Dark Knight on Saturday.  I only went because a group of friends were going, and I wanted to tag along.  I had heard it was going to be dark, but I was surprised by &lt;em&gt;how&lt;/em&gt; dark it was.  I didn't like it so much, that I have expressed to multiple people my disdain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But recently (I think it was yesterday) I started to have positive thoughts and feelings toward the movie.  Yes, I think I actually like it.  But I don't know if my opinions of the movie have changed or if what I'm choosing to remember about the movie has changed.  Maybe I'm blocking out the darker moments and focusing in on the parts I found intriguing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-2035224321484406698?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/2035224321484406698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=2035224321484406698' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2035224321484406698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2035224321484406698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/07/dark-knight.html' title='The Dark Knight'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-639034651919232366</id><published>2008-07-21T15:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T15:49:12.937-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>My Big Backyard</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Wildlife can be found in my backyard.  Some animals live there, and others just visit.  And some are welcome, while others are not.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When the two groundhogs come out of their hole and nibble at the grass, I gawk at their cuteness.  I've even given them names, which my brother finds childish.  (His problem, not mine.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But when the neighborhood deer start meandering through our yard, I become annoyed and somewhat angered.  If no one is within earshot, I tend to spout insults at them and command them to die.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt;, they have yet to gain an understanding of the English language and the ability to obey.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-639034651919232366?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/639034651919232366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=639034651919232366' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/639034651919232366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/639034651919232366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-big-backyard.html' title='My Big Backyard'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-1996232170232043451</id><published>2008-07-17T12:30:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T13:41:21.763-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sleep'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='History'/><title type='text'>Nightly Conversation</title><content type='html'>Monday night I didn't fall asleep until 5 a.m. Wednesday it was 4 a.m. There is a plus side to this. I get to spend time with my brother who doesn't come home during the week until 2 a.m. So we've been talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was &lt;em&gt;Watch C-SPAN and Make Fun of the Democrats Night&lt;/em&gt;. Loads of fun. Honestly, the average republican was more respectful, articulate, and fact-focused than his democratic counterpart. It was almost unreal at times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also found ourselves on a bit of a rabbit trail. It went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Me: Do you want to see The Dark Knight on Saturday?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Bro: No. What is it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Me: It's the new batman movie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Bro: It has Heath Ledger as the joker, doesn't it? A female coworker of mine was raving about him at lunch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Me: I'm not surprised.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Bro: It was so annoying when he died. That's all the girls on campus were talking about. They were walking around campus holding up dvds with his face on them saying, "Heath Ledger this. Heath Ledger that. OMG!" So I joined in after awhile... "Heath Ledger? Heath Ledger! Heath Ledger!!!??" [sporting a crazed look on his face].&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Me: That's mean.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Bro: So?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Me: Can Heath Ledger help it if he makes girls swoon?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Bro: No, he can't help it if he makes girls swoon. But it's counterproductive to society. They [the swooning girls] could use their time better. In the 19th century the national pastime was politics. Now it's sports and entertainment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Me: &lt;em&gt;You&lt;/em&gt; like sports.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Bro: Yes, but it doesn't consume me. If a team wins or loses, it doesn't really have an effect on me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;At one point it shifted in direction to:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Bro: I can't tell if a guy is hot or not. I don't look at guys that way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Me: That's good to know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;My brother's the best.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-1996232170232043451?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/1996232170232043451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=1996232170232043451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1996232170232043451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1996232170232043451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/07/nightly-conversation.html' title='Nightly Conversation'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-1305541292291460105</id><published>2008-07-14T11:37:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T11:56:12.516-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>You Know This Is How I Am</title><content type='html'>My brother and I were talking this weekend.  I don't remember most of what was said, but at one point my brother told me, "You know this is how I am."  I immediately diverted the conversation with, "If you ever write an autobiography, that would make a great title!"  And then we both started saying, "You know this is how I am," a few times aloud to test the sound of it.  I think he ended up agreeing with me, but even if he didn't, I'd still like the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my aunts has been on an Alaskan cruise for a little while and was kind enough to send us a little gift in the mail from her trip.  It's some Alaskan salmon sealed in a little pouch and labeled as "Salmon Mail."  When my brother came home from work the other night, my dad asked him if he'd seen the salmon-gram (as in telegram, but receiving salmon and not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tele&lt;/span&gt;).  My brother said, "No," and immediately started rifling through our assortment of cereal, thinking my dad had said "Salmon Grahams."  I definitely milked this the rest of the night.  (Question:  Why would anyone in their right mind create a cereal with fish in it?  Why?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To finish this post off and create a third little item (threes are good), I found out that if anyone ever needs me to apply butterfly bandages to an open wound, they can count on me to finish the job without getting lightheaded.  I was very surprised.  My mom didn't fair so well, though.  And my dad wasn't even in the room.  Oh, yeah!  (My brother had a little mishap at his factory job but is well.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-1305541292291460105?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/1305541292291460105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=1305541292291460105' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1305541292291460105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1305541292291460105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/07/you-know-this-is-how-i-am.html' title='You Know This Is How I Am'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-2113886260986735193</id><published>2008-07-11T21:28:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T21:34:08.773-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Driving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><title type='text'>Driving...driving...driving...</title><content type='html'>Wow.  Two posts in one evening.  But they're more complaints than anything else, so don't get too excited.  We wouldn't want that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving to and from South Bend a few days a week is starting to become old.  I know people who drive more, but that's them, not me, and I'm only thinking about me right now.  I mean, you can only listen to the same top 40 songs on the radio so many times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hit me this evening that maybe I should get an audio book and listen to that.  It's worth a try.  I'm thinking something cutesy.  A year or two ago I listened to a Scott Adams (Dilbert author) book while doing this or that and found it so funny that I actually laughed out loud on occasion.  Maybe I'll see what I can get of his.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-2113886260986735193?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/2113886260986735193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=2113886260986735193' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2113886260986735193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2113886260986735193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/07/drivingdrivingdriving.html' title='Driving...driving...driving...'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-114208377250007430</id><published>2008-07-11T19:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T19:57:32.076-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><title type='text'>Searching...</title><content type='html'>So far my search for information on Niger's accounting standards is basically like my attempt to drive to a location I've never been to before.  Who can say, "Fun on a Friday!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-114208377250007430?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/114208377250007430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=114208377250007430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/114208377250007430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/114208377250007430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/07/searching.html' title='Searching...'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-8159737802943946304</id><published>2008-07-08T11:42:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:44:48.512-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brilliant ideas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Direction'/><title type='text'>International Accounting</title><content type='html'>Last week was the start of the second summer session at IUSB. For it, I'm taking International Accounting, a required course that explores differences in accounting standards throughout the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220687677392855522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SHObyD5CoeI/AAAAAAAAAGY/e9tNCyMi31Y/s200/world32k.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Last night at the end of class, our professor informed us of our group project, including the groups to which we were assigned. Ours met briefly to divide up tasks and figure out when we would meet again for further discussion. This is where things became complicated.&lt;/p&gt;We decided somewhat quickly on the date and time: Saturday afternoon. But with it being summer, we were less certain of the on-campus buildings that would be available to us. One was suggested that the others thought would work, but I was unfamiliar with its location.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guys in our group attempted to help me. Alan tried explaining its location while Vince drew a cute little map. After I took the map and looked at it a while, Alan asked me if it helped at all. I looked up, smiled, and he replied, "I guess not." Our solution? Decide on a different location.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-8159737802943946304?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/8159737802943946304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=8159737802943946304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8159737802943946304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8159737802943946304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/07/international-accounting.html' title='International Accounting'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SHObyD5CoeI/AAAAAAAAAGY/e9tNCyMi31Y/s72-c/world32k.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-3212037158404308940</id><published>2008-06-27T11:50:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:44:48.976-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bible'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Warsaw'/><title type='text'>A Reason for Warsaw</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SGUQQZyJaWI/AAAAAAAAAGI/I2tdo8TxOSs/s1600-h/courthouse-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216593617363757410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SGUQQZyJaWI/AAAAAAAAAGI/I2tdo8TxOSs/s400/courthouse-2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Earlier this week a classmate of mine asked me about Warsaw. He wanted to know what it offered in terms of entertainment and activities that South Bend doesn't have. Even though I can say that I love Warsaw (and also Winona Lake), I have to admit that he took me off guard. I didn't know what to say. After pausing, I said something about music in the summer at Winona Lake, the many lakes our county has, etc. He then asked if Warsaw and Winona Lake are comparable in size to South Bend and Fort Wayne. This I found funny. He's not from the area, let alone the country, so I can't blame him for not knowing that the answer is obvious to pretty much everyone else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216593765057518754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SGUQY__FXKI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/QAF9GNCMh-k/s400/winona+lake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This encounter brought a verse to mind: "But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect" (1 Peter 3:15).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-3212037158404308940?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/3212037158404308940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=3212037158404308940' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3212037158404308940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3212037158404308940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/06/reason-for-warsaw.html' title='A Reason for Warsaw'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SGUQQZyJaWI/AAAAAAAAAGI/I2tdo8TxOSs/s72-c/courthouse-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-3893356929041867418</id><published>2008-06-17T12:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T12:55:48.303-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brilliant ideas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><title type='text'>Chocolate Messages</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I eat a piece of Dove chocolate every weekday after I finish my lunch. Each piece is individually wrapped in foil with a message printed on the inside. They say things like, "Go to your special place," and "Definitely a bubble bath day." Most of the time I don't like what they say.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;At first I thought I could come up with some good ones, but then I felt stumped. All I came up with was, "I don't know." Really catchy (although it seems to be the theme of my life). So I was thinking that maybe wonderful people such as yourselves would be able to come up with better ideas for the messages.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;First off, what types of messages should be used? Stick with the same basic idea of nice, fuzzy thoughts, but upgrade them a bit? Or what about messages that a magic eight ball might provide? Insults? Quotes from movies?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What would make really good messages for someone reaching for that necessary piece of afternoon chocolate?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-3893356929041867418?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/3893356929041867418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=3893356929041867418' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3893356929041867418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3893356929041867418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/06/chocolate-messages.html' title='Chocolate Messages'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-174475171027387774</id><published>2008-06-16T13:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T13:53:20.276-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Games'/><title type='text'>Volleyball</title><content type='html'>Apparently it &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; possible to become sore from standing around for a few hours and occasionally coming into contact with a volleyball.  Although the game I play is called "pretend you're going to get the ball but step away at the last second" -ball.  Or "watch the ball hit the ground next to you" -ball.  It's really amazing that my teammates didn't commit murder yesterday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-174475171027387774?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/174475171027387774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=174475171027387774' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/174475171027387774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/174475171027387774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/06/volleyball.html' title='Volleyball'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-1768719098114265819</id><published>2008-06-13T17:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T17:27:47.063-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Jealous</title><content type='html'>I'm officially jealous of &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/theresaanderssonmusic"&gt;Theresa Andersson&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-1768719098114265819?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/1768719098114265819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=1768719098114265819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1768719098114265819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1768719098114265819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/06/jealous.html' title='Jealous'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-7069161017979862121</id><published>2008-06-10T17:13:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T12:18:18.962-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Language'/><title type='text'>Mensagem De Amor</title><content type='html'>Portuguese is the most amazing language, and Lucas Santtana's "&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/vieirav/music/ehalgulU/lucas_santtana_mensagem_de_amor/"&gt;Mensagem De Amor&lt;/a&gt;" might be the best song to showcase its beauty. The lyrics and the acoustic arrangement are also top-notch in my book. Following are the "raw" lyrics and a rough translation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Mensagem De Amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Os Livros na estante já não tem mais tanta importância&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Do muito que li, do pouco que eu sei, nada me resta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;A não ser, a vontade de te encontrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;O motivo eu já nem sei, nem que seja só para estar, ao seu lado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Só pra ler, no seu rosto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Uma mensagem de Amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Uma mensagem de Amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;A noite eu me deito, então escuto a mensagem do ar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Vagando entre os astros, nada me move nem me faz parar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;A não ser, a vontade de te encontrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;O motivo eu já nem sei, nem que seja só para estar ao seu lado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Só pra ler no seu rosto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Uma mensagem de Amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Os Livros na estante já não tem mais tanta importância&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Do muito que li, do pouco que eu sei, nada me resta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;A não ser, a vontade de te encontrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;O motivo eu já nem sei, nem que seja só para estar, ao seu lado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Só pra ler, no seu rosto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Uma mensagem de Amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Uma mensagem de Amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;A noite eu me deito, então escuto a mensagem do ar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Vagando entre os astros, nada me move nem me faz parar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;A não ser, a vontade de te encontrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;O motivo eu já nem sei, nem que seja só para estar ao seu lado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Só pra ler no seu rosto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Uma mensagem de Amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Uma mensagem de Amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Uma mensagem de Amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Uma mensagem de Amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Uma mensagem de Amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Message of Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Books on the shelf have little importance anymore&lt;br /&gt;Of all that I read, there is little that I know, I have nothing&lt;br /&gt;Except the will to find you&lt;br /&gt;I do not know the reason yet, even if just to be by your side,&lt;br /&gt;Only to get to read on your face&lt;br /&gt;A message of love&lt;br /&gt;A message of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At night I lie down, then I listen to the air's message&lt;br /&gt;Becoming vacant among the stars, nothing moves me or makes me stop&lt;br /&gt;Except the will to find you&lt;br /&gt;The reason I do not know already, even if just to be by your side,&lt;br /&gt;Only to get to read on your face&lt;br /&gt;A message of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Books on the shelf have little importance anymore&lt;br /&gt;Of all that I read, there is little that I know, I have nothing&lt;br /&gt;Except the will to find you&lt;br /&gt;I do not know the reason yet, even if only to be by your side,&lt;br /&gt;Only to get to read on your face&lt;br /&gt;A message of love&lt;br /&gt;A message of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At night I lie down, then I listen to the air's message&lt;br /&gt;Becoming vacant among the stars, nothing moves me or makes me stop&lt;br /&gt;Except the will to find you&lt;br /&gt;I do not know the reason yet, even if just to be by your side,&lt;br /&gt;Only to get to read on your face A message of love&lt;br /&gt;A message of love&lt;br /&gt;A message of love&lt;br /&gt;A message of love&lt;br /&gt;A message of love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-7069161017979862121?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/7069161017979862121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=7069161017979862121' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/7069161017979862121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/7069161017979862121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/06/mensagem-de-amor.html' title='Mensagem De Amor'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-2651294958534728973</id><published>2008-06-09T11:47:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T11:49:38.473-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Games'/><title type='text'>Who Am I?</title><content type='html'>I don’t know who I am.  Well, I didn’t know who I was on Sunday…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday afternoon I was at Miranda’s bridal shower, which I enjoyed.  My main responsibility for the event was putting together some games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first game was called “Who Am I?”  This involved me taping names of famous females, whether real or fictitious, onto the backs of the guests as they arrived.  The guests were then to figure out who they were by asking people around them “yes” or “no” questions.  I wasn’t planning on participating, since I had personally selected each name and thought it would be an unfair advantage.  Miranda, however, decided I needed to play, too, and taped a name onto me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess who the last person was to figure out her mystery identity???  If you guessed “Emily,” you are correct.  This being the case, even thought I had a head start on most of the participants.  I was working with this information:  I was fictitious, possibly a cartoon, had blonde hair and an unbelievable figure.  It wasn’t until Miranda exclaimed, “You used to date Ken!” that I had an epiphany:  I am Barbie.  Or I was, rather, for an afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, don’t break into Christ’s Covenant Church.  The alarm that goes off is very loud.  And the police show up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-2651294958534728973?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/2651294958534728973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=2651294958534728973' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2651294958534728973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2651294958534728973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/06/who-am-i.html' title='Who Am I?'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-6318512601838383873</id><published>2008-06-05T11:46:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:44:49.206-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Weather'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heaven'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Driving'/><title type='text'>Converging Paths</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SEgMcX9YfiI/AAAAAAAAAGA/EtOU_6ebrBk/s1600-h/tornado+warning.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208426650661322274" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SEgMcX9YfiI/AAAAAAAAAGA/EtOU_6ebrBk/s400/tornado+warning.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last night, part of me was thinking I might be carried off by a tornado. The night sky I was driving into wasn't just storming. It had a smattering of that crazy, hazy yellow along with dark, menacing clouds that made me think of "The Wizard of Oz." The radio station would occasionally pause to warn of weather that could form into tornadoes passing from Marshall county's southwest corner to its northeast corner. Our paths were converging. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So as I was driving, I:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1) continued to listen to music, but turned it down on occasion so I could catch any possible strange noises that might clue me in on an approaching tornado.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2) looked around me for funnel clouds that might start to form.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3) made sure there were other people on the road, too. (The fail-safe "if everyone else is doing it, it must be okay" thought.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4) prayed that God would keep me safe and I would know what to do if something happened.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5) told myself that if I saw a funnel cloud approaching me, I would pull over (hopefully by an empty field with little around me) and lie down in a ditch (making sure to take my purse with me but leaving my sweater in the car so it might avoid possible damage... me and my sweaters).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6) pictured scenes from the movie "Twister."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No, I'm not completely crazy. I have lived in Indiana all my life, so the thought of tornadoes doesn't freak me out. But when there's the possibility of their formation, I'm normally in my house with family, not driving on a road alone.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And then my brother almost hit a deer last night on his way home from work...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-6318512601838383873?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/6318512601838383873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=6318512601838383873' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6318512601838383873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6318512601838383873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/06/converging-paths.html' title='Converging Paths'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SEgMcX9YfiI/AAAAAAAAAGA/EtOU_6ebrBk/s72-c/tornado+warning.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-5450942467772762305</id><published>2008-06-03T16:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:44:49.519-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Mouse and Frog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SEWtareRWVI/AAAAAAAAAFw/ydTfyt20344/s1600-h/rt_frog_mouse_070716_ssh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207759217981741394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SEWtareRWVI/AAAAAAAAAFw/ydTfyt20344/s400/rt_frog_mouse_070716_ssh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love this picture.  It makes me think of children's stories about animal friends that go on journeys and learn lessons.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5450942467772762305?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5450942467772762305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5450942467772762305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5450942467772762305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5450942467772762305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/06/mouse-and-frog.html' title='Mouse and Frog'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SEWtareRWVI/AAAAAAAAAFw/ydTfyt20344/s72-c/rt_frog_mouse_070716_ssh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-5295352259750559132</id><published>2008-06-02T12:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T12:45:49.049-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Spoiled</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I'm getting spoiled.  Cookout/bonfire yesterday, bonfire last Sunday...  What am I going to do this coming Sunday?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I know!  How about a bridal shower for Miranda!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5295352259750559132?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5295352259750559132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5295352259750559132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5295352259750559132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5295352259750559132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/06/spoiled.html' title='Spoiled'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-7837683193742153447</id><published>2008-05-29T11:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T12:02:43.659-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><title type='text'>5 Dollar Footlong</title><content type='html'>I've got "&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WHIo4VruGZY"&gt;5 Dollar Footlong&lt;/a&gt;" in my head, and you should, too...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-7837683193742153447?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/7837683193742153447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=7837683193742153447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/7837683193742153447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/7837683193742153447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/05/5-dollar-footlong.html' title='5 Dollar Footlong'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-1759664412846902311</id><published>2008-05-27T12:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T12:11:47.602-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Prayer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brilliant ideas'/><title type='text'>Yet Again...</title><content type='html'>Yet again I find myself living apart from God.  When will I learn?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-1759664412846902311?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/1759664412846902311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=1759664412846902311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1759664412846902311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1759664412846902311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/05/yet-again.html' title='Yet Again...'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-9171699895274562555</id><published>2008-05-21T11:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T11:43:37.169-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Warsaw'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Politics'/><title type='text'>Neighborhood Drama</title><content type='html'>Yesterday evening my neighborhood had a meeting concerning a bit of a hot topic.  Both my parents went... with differing views.  Mom tried to get Dad to promise that he either wouldn't go or open his mouth, but she didn't succeed.  When they came home after its finish, I asked, "So you both came back alive?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-9171699895274562555?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/9171699895274562555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=9171699895274562555' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/9171699895274562555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/9171699895274562555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/05/neighborhood-drama.html' title='Neighborhood Drama'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-4174610024425274227</id><published>2008-05-19T15:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T15:58:45.096-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Speech'/><title type='text'>Quote #1</title><content type='html'>"So when does your schoolend year?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-4174610024425274227?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/4174610024425274227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=4174610024425274227' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4174610024425274227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4174610024425274227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/05/quote-1.html' title='Quote #1'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-1149341175006862413</id><published>2008-05-15T11:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T11:58:13.288-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><title type='text'>Happy Thursday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Two good things about today:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1) My brother comes home for the summer.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2) The Office season finale (sniff) is one hour long (yay!).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-1149341175006862413?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/1149341175006862413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=1149341175006862413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1149341175006862413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1149341175006862413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-thursday.html' title='Happy Thursday!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-2898291059282318395</id><published>2008-05-12T14:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T14:54:01.813-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poll'/><title type='text'>Responsibility</title><content type='html'>What makes someone a responsible adult?  What are the factors?  (i.e. age, housing situation, financial standing, social/emotional maturity, relationship status, other habits/characteristics, etc.)  How about this:  when you look at someone who you think needs to "grow up," what is it that you think he/she lacks?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-2898291059282318395?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/2898291059282318395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=2898291059282318395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2898291059282318395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2898291059282318395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/05/responsibility.html' title='Responsibility'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-5551832241766997443</id><published>2008-05-09T11:42:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T12:32:38.070-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><title type='text'>Pigg's Coffee</title><content type='html'>After hearing "Coffee Shop" aka "Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop" on the radio recently, I found out who sings it: &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/landonpiggmusic"&gt;Landon &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pigg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. My immediate thought was, &lt;em&gt;Poor guy. Not the best last name&lt;/em&gt;. But I'm sure he's used to it by now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Coffee Shop" sounded familiar. And then I remembered a jewelry &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T7HG-6rw1o4"&gt;commercial&lt;/a&gt; from Christmastime. It was one of the few that I didn't mind and actually thought was sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like his sound, but I've got the feeling that if I listen to it enough, it'll get on my nerves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5551832241766997443?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5551832241766997443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5551832241766997443' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5551832241766997443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5551832241766997443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/05/piggs-coffee.html' title='Pigg&apos;s Coffee'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-8476458510917340182</id><published>2008-05-08T17:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T17:22:26.289-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>What a Nice Guy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;When my brother was home for spring break a couple months ago, I jokingly asked him if he would like to share an apartment with me after he graduates from college. I thought his immediate response would be a polite version of, "Are you kidding me? No, thank you!" But he took me seriously and was receptive to the idea.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He hasn't been thrilled with his roommate experiences so far, and says he already knows what he can expect from me. I highly doubt the likelihood of us sharing a place, but it's nice that he thinks we'd get along alright.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When we were younger, I used to tell my brother that I'd feel sorry for his wife if he ever married. (Horrible, I know.) But he's turned into a decent fellow. He called our house a couple days ago, making a point to talk to both my mom and me. What a nice guy!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-8476458510917340182?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/8476458510917340182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=8476458510917340182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8476458510917340182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8476458510917340182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-nice-guy.html' title='What a Nice Guy!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-9097002062902966136</id><published>2008-05-07T11:40:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:44:49.900-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brilliant ideas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><title type='text'>The Ideal Ideal-Cut Diamond</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SCHOYLl7fWI/AAAAAAAAAFo/WrTie0zKcrU/s1600-h/jaredpeerless_top.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197662359786323298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SCHOYLl7fWI/AAAAAAAAAFo/WrTie0zKcrU/s400/jaredpeerless_top.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've been hearing an ad for the ideal ideal-cut diamond that can only be found at Jared, The Galleria of Jewelry of the "He went to Jared!" and "It can only be Jared!" fame. These ads are causing me to think. If an ideal ideal-cut diamond is better than just an ideal-cut diamond, then wouldn't an ideal ideal ideal-cut diamond be even better? And hold it right there! An ideal ideal ideal ideal-cut diamond would kick the ideal ideal ideal-cut diamond's you-know-what! &lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Imagine a man on one knee looking up at his girlfriend. He just popped the question and is holding out an opened box with a ring in it. The box's lid clearly states "Jared, the Galleria of Jewelry," but the girlfriend isn't fooled. She exclaims, "This isn't the ideal ideal ideal ideal-cut diamond. It's only the ideal ideal ideal-cut. I only want the best! It's just not... ideal enough!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-9097002062902966136?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/9097002062902966136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=9097002062902966136' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/9097002062902966136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/9097002062902966136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/05/ideal-ideal-cut-diamond.html' title='The Ideal Ideal-Cut Diamond'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SCHOYLl7fWI/AAAAAAAAAFo/WrTie0zKcrU/s72-c/jaredpeerless_top.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-8761037269691405001</id><published>2008-05-06T11:46:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T11:49:48.906-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Warsaw'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seasons/Holidays'/><title type='text'>The Con of Spring</title><content type='html'>Winter left us weeks ago, letting spring have its way with the previously barren landscape.  Grass has been colored green, leaves have been coaxed back onto branches and flowers have blossomed once again.  I do love and appreciate the change of seasons, but, being me, I have to find at least one drawback to every good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On winter nights before going to bed, I like to glance out of my window and see the smoke steadily streaming from Daltons into the deep blue sky.  But now that the tree branches in my neighborhood are no longer bare, they block my view of Dalton's smoke stack.  I can still make out the smoke, but without the smoke stack, the picture seems incomplete.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-8761037269691405001?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/8761037269691405001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=8761037269691405001' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8761037269691405001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8761037269691405001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/05/con-of-spring.html' title='The Con of Spring'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-7512516760462324453</id><published>2008-05-03T23:09:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:44:50.259-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><title type='text'>Weekend in Review</title><content type='html'>Friday night I found myself perusing the shelves at Blockbuster. After looking for non-cookie cutter movies, I walked out with two:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lars and the Real Girl&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; tells the story of a twenty-something guy who wants a relationship but is too scared of a real one. His solution? Get a life-size doll online and dote on her as if she was real. His sincerity is endearing, but what also stands out is how his family and small town embrace him and his "girlfriend." The care and patience they modeled is uplifting and moving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SB01_NvPGBI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/D9DA1FKxsrc/s1600-h/larsandtherealgirl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196368905191233554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SB01_NvPGBI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/D9DA1FKxsrc/s320/larsandtherealgirl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I followed this up with &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Once&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;: a musical set in Ireland which captures the friendship between a guy and a girl. I knew it was a movie and not a documentary, but it felt real. The flow of it and the earnest lyrics gave me the feeling that I was peering into the lives of these characters that meet, share their lives and their music, and then part ways. The sense of community that the &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/oncethemovie"&gt;music&lt;/a&gt; created is what sticks with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196369682580314146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SB02sdvPGCI/AAAAAAAAAFY/GHdGbiRAmWo/s320/oncegroup.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-7512516760462324453?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/7512516760462324453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=7512516760462324453' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/7512516760462324453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/7512516760462324453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/05/weekend-in-review.html' title='Weekend in Review'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SB01_NvPGBI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/D9DA1FKxsrc/s72-c/larsandtherealgirl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-6188197893313193500</id><published>2008-05-02T15:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T15:14:48.520-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Weather'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Pouring Down Jazz</title><content type='html'>Jazz is one of the musical genres I sometimes listen to at work.  But when it's pouring down rain, which it was for a short while this afternoon, I immediately crave it.  Specifically John Coltrane.  And in particular, "My Favorite Things."  Funny the things our minds associate with other things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-6188197893313193500?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/6188197893313193500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=6188197893313193500' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6188197893313193500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6188197893313193500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/05/pouring-down-jazz.html' title='Pouring Down Jazz'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-7726771815424654842</id><published>2008-05-01T14:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T14:20:23.484-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><title type='text'>Hear Ye, Hear Ye!</title><content type='html'>I officially passed my third masters class.  Oh, yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-7726771815424654842?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/7726771815424654842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=7726771815424654842' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/7726771815424654842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/7726771815424654842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/05/hear-ye-hear-ye.html' title='Hear Ye, Hear Ye!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-3827938255707831980</id><published>2008-04-30T12:54:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T13:00:40.283-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Psycho Bird</title><content type='html'>Last week I started hearing an occasional thud coming from my boss's office. I thought it a little odd but dismissed it as some random thing that didn't matter. Later I found out that a robin seems to have taken a liking to my boss. It'll stand on the ground just below his window, fly up, peck once at the window, and drop back down to the ground. It'll do this several times in a row.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this week my boss drew a rough sketch of a cat and taped it to the window to see what effect this might have. Unfortunately the bird is not frightened by pieces of paper. At lunch today, when I sat in the back room near the popular window, I heard it. &lt;em&gt;Thud. Silence... Thud. Silence...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The bird's at it again&lt;/em&gt;, I thought. And yes it was. I must have heard close to two dozen thuds in just a few minutes. I was fine with the first few, but after a while I just started laughing and couldn't stop. Well, I could for a moment, but then I'd start shaking again and tears would well up in my eyes. Once I managed to take a bite of my tasty lunch, I could focus on chewing and not be fazed by any psycho birds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is this bird's problem? One theory, which is not mine, is that the bird was out drinking at a bar because it's girlfriend broke up with it. Another theory, which is mine, is that it was sent on a mission to give my boss an important message. But alas! The MapQuest directions didn't explain that the window would be closed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-3827938255707831980?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/3827938255707831980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=3827938255707831980' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3827938255707831980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3827938255707831980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/04/psycho-bird.html' title='Psycho Bird'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-5316183966294821888</id><published>2008-04-25T11:34:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T11:47:22.094-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><title type='text'>Night Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;My family and I sat down last night to watch &lt;em&gt;The Office&lt;/em&gt;, as we normally do when it's a new episode. This one, entitled "Night Out," did not have the usual office setting. These episodes tend to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sub par&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dad still thought it was a good episode, but he kept expressing his sadness that Ryan now seems to have a problem with drugs. I tried to tell him that Ryan's just a character; he doesn't really exist. But my dad is still disappointed with one of his favorites.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I guess I shouldn't make fun. I do get caught up in the Jim/Pam plot. I mean, it's Jim and Pam! Come on!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5316183966294821888?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5316183966294821888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5316183966294821888' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5316183966294821888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5316183966294821888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/04/night-out.html' title='Night Out'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-6688222043800743375</id><published>2008-04-23T11:42:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:44:50.457-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Train Wreck</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SA9ZsdvPF_I/AAAAAAAAAFA/qHhbxg3jdjo/s1600-h/train_wreck.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192467515813337074" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SA9ZsdvPF_I/AAAAAAAAAFA/qHhbxg3jdjo/s200/train_wreck.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was part of a train wreck last night that was a class presentation. When I got home, my parents immediately asked me, "So how did it go?" &lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;I said, "Not well."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They asked, "Which part?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I replied, "All of it."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And then Dad tried saying nice things when all I wanted to do was let it go. But it's just about all my mind falls on today...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-6688222043800743375?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/6688222043800743375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=6688222043800743375' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6688222043800743375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6688222043800743375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/04/train-wreck.html' title='Train Wreck'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SA9ZsdvPF_I/AAAAAAAAAFA/qHhbxg3jdjo/s72-c/train_wreck.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-6870391001589206957</id><published>2008-04-17T20:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T20:20:09.023-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seasons/Holidays'/><title type='text'>Evening Glow</title><content type='html'>It's past 8 p.m. and there's still some light outside!  (If you wait long enough, you might get what you &lt;a href="http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2007/11/fall-back.html"&gt;want&lt;/a&gt;.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-6870391001589206957?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/6870391001589206957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=6870391001589206957' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6870391001589206957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6870391001589206957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/04/evening-glow.html' title='Evening Glow'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-7787266989333893016</id><published>2008-04-14T20:34:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:44:51.067-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Direction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Perspectives'/><title type='text'>Ummm...</title><content type='html'>I am indecisive. It is hard for me to make up my mind on many things much of the time. I'll lean one way, then another, and if a third or a fourth option arises, I'm just plain paralyzed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;But at least I'm gaining some company. There's someone I know who told me last month that she was leaning in direction A. Last week I asked her for an update, and she informed me of direction B, only a few days later to switch back to direction A. And this is someone who I thought was good at deciding and sticking!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189264471875601314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SAP4ixOzQ6I/AAAAAAAAAEw/E6sTDG8vqW4/s400/direction.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Actually, if you look at it another way, I &lt;em&gt;am&lt;/em&gt; decisive. I &lt;em&gt;can&lt;/em&gt; decide on something. The problem is that it's hard to stick to that decision.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It reminds me of the Seinfeld episode in which Jerry thinks he had made a reservation at a car rental business only to find out they took the reservation but didn't hold it (emphasizing the holding being the most important part of the reservation).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But you know what I realized a few days ago? It's okay if I'm confused. I don't need to rush into a new decision. I can just be thankful for what I've got right now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;...or can I?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-7787266989333893016?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/7787266989333893016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=7787266989333893016' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/7787266989333893016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/7787266989333893016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/04/ummm.html' title='Ummm...'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SAP4ixOzQ6I/AAAAAAAAAEw/E6sTDG8vqW4/s72-c/direction.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-545224738037527544</id><published>2008-04-12T14:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:44:51.298-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brilliant ideas'/><title type='text'>Ctrl Z</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SAD9d8OcLTI/AAAAAAAAAEo/tr2dEcet1Gc/s1600-h/ctrl+z+small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188425461555539250" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SAD9d8OcLTI/AAAAAAAAAEo/tr2dEcet1Gc/s400/ctrl+z+small.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A few days ago I erased some penciled notes only to wish I hadn't the second I finished. My immediate thought was to hit "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ctrl&lt;/span&gt;" "Z." But wait! I can only do that on the computer! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Rrggh&lt;/span&gt;! I think I need to add some functions to my current list of capabilities. Any knowledgeable surgeon-programmers out there?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-545224738037527544?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/545224738037527544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=545224738037527544' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/545224738037527544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/545224738037527544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/04/ctrl-z.html' title='Ctrl Z'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/SAD9d8OcLTI/AAAAAAAAAEo/tr2dEcet1Gc/s72-c/ctrl+z+small.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-8627305124533365401</id><published>2008-04-11T13:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T13:49:27.590-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>I---t</title><content type='html'>I feel like an idiot.  An idiot who's in a decent mood, but an idiot just the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-8627305124533365401?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/8627305124533365401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=8627305124533365401' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8627305124533365401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8627305124533365401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-t.html' title='I---t'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-6295485880289831020</id><published>2008-04-10T12:55:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T12:57:06.268-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Warsaw'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Pass the Pink Stuff!</title><content type='html'>Roller coasters, swirly rides, and the like have never been my thing.  My stomach and sense of balance are less than accepting of these strange experiences.  Even so, I thought I could handle swinging at Pike Lake the other evening.  Nope.  I know I used to like swinging as a child, but apparently I'm getting too sensitive for even this simple activity.  For hours afterward my stomach was nauseated and my head felt funny.  Just another proof that I'm weird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-6295485880289831020?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/6295485880289831020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=6295485880289831020' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6295485880289831020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6295485880289831020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/04/pass-pink-stuff.html' title='Pass the Pink Stuff!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-8009435331053650966</id><published>2008-04-07T18:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T18:08:53.914-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brilliant ideas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experiences'/><title type='text'>Deadbolt Blues</title><content type='html'>Well, it's happened.  My parents changed the locks on me.  They got a new deadbolt since the old one was being testy.  But my mom was nice enough to tell me to just ring the doorbell when I get home, instead of trying my key for who knows how long before I realize it doesn't work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings to mind some childhood memories of getting locked out of the house.  I'd walk home from elementary school but couldn't get inside.  I don't remember if it was because I forgot my key (a likely possibility considering who we're talking about), or because it was the middle of the winter and the lock refused to take my key.  I think the latter was the case at least a few times, because I remember shivering in the cold, waiting for my mom to get home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on in my childhood, when it was both my brother and me, we got a little wiser and would crawl in through a window.  With age comes wisdom... hopefully.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-8009435331053650966?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/8009435331053650966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=8009435331053650966' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8009435331053650966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8009435331053650966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/04/deadbolt-blues.html' title='Deadbolt Blues'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-5198331408396055280</id><published>2008-04-04T11:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:44:51.943-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><title type='text'>Thirty Bananas</title><content type='html'>This is what Dad bought last night. Mom and I looked at each other and asked him if he was going to eat them all. He said that we could have some, but, yes, he was planning on eating them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently someone told my dad that bananas are good for you, so he's eating bananas. Yep. Bananas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185417465277011138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/R_ZNtg3xVMI/AAAAAAAAAEg/CZwAJWjB_OA/s320/banana.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5198331408396055280?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5198331408396055280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5198331408396055280' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5198331408396055280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5198331408396055280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/04/thirty-bananas.html' title='Thirty Bananas'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/R_ZNtg3xVMI/AAAAAAAAAEg/CZwAJWjB_OA/s72-c/banana.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-4674561907959171709</id><published>2008-04-02T20:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T08:55:12.793-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Sickness Is All in the Mind</title><content type='html'>This is what my dad claims. Brainpower, he says, is what keeps him from getting sick. Of course, he can have a fever and aches, throw up, and maybe even succumb to a rare disease that causes him to lose a limb without it being sickness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sickness, according to my dad, is missing work. And since my dad hasn't missed work for bodily happenings in... well, ever, he thinks he can say that he's immune to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so on those occasions when my dad is practically coughing up a lung, I smile and make a nice little comment about how he must have lost his brainpower. He counters with, "I'm not sick," and I finish with, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mmmhmmm&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-4674561907959171709?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/4674561907959171709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=4674561907959171709' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4674561907959171709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4674561907959171709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/04/sickness-is-all-in-mind.html' title='Sickness Is All in the Mind'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-1349010078369910483</id><published>2008-03-31T11:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T11:47:27.174-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>What's that Tune?</title><content type='html'>Earlier this morning I found myself humming a tune, so I stopped to figure out what it was.  I soon realized that I was humming my boss's cell phone ringer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-1349010078369910483?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/1349010078369910483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=1349010078369910483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1349010078369910483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1349010078369910483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/03/whats-that-tune.html' title='What&apos;s that Tune?'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-7053803790406665049</id><published>2008-03-29T10:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T10:55:27.408-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Chicken</title><content type='html'>When I look outside my window right now, I see a teenager waving a sign and jumping up and down.  He shouts, "Chiiiickeeeeen!  Chiiickeeennn!"  Ah, the joys of fundraising.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-7053803790406665049?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/7053803790406665049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=7053803790406665049' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/7053803790406665049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/7053803790406665049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/03/chicken.html' title='Chicken'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-4509121896877033736</id><published>2008-03-26T11:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T11:46:40.565-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poll'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><title type='text'>March Madness</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Easter weekend I did something I wasn't planning on doing.  I sat down on the couch with my dad and brother and watched some basketball.  I know.  Big shocker.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;During the commercials, I noticed that my brother would turn his head away from the television and stare at a nearby object.  Now this wasn't during crude or extremely annoying commercials, but for almost all of the commercials.  I found this odd.  What about you?  What do you do during commercials?  (See my newest poll.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-4509121896877033736?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/4509121896877033736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=4509121896877033736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4509121896877033736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4509121896877033736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/03/march-madness.html' title='March Madness'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-5624579218076775107</id><published>2008-03-21T11:44:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:44:52.241-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='History'/><title type='text'>Charles Marx:  Man of Honor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/R-PYxg3xVLI/AAAAAAAAAEY/QEdoMuPN3C8/s1600-h/new+saloon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180222341555246258" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/R-PYxg3xVLI/AAAAAAAAAEY/QEdoMuPN3C8/s200/new+saloon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Before my brother came home last night for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;spring&lt;/span&gt; break, my dad recounted to me details of the life of Charles Marx, an ancestor of mine. Apparently he was an old school hick from the mid 1800s. He married one of the Miami Tribe in order to get his hands on some of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;government&lt;/span&gt; money that would come their way. His favorite use for the money seemed to be liquor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's at least one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;occurrence&lt;/span&gt; in which Charles went to the local bar and called a fellow bar visitor some choice names. Once called a "hick" (or the 1800s equivalent), Charles started a fight. The fight went on for a while, but neither of the men could completely subdue the other, so they ended it with mutual respect for the other person.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nothing like a good history lesson!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5624579218076775107?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5624579218076775107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5624579218076775107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5624579218076775107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5624579218076775107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/03/charles-marx-man-of-honor.html' title='Charles Marx:  Man of Honor'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/R-PYxg3xVLI/AAAAAAAAAEY/QEdoMuPN3C8/s72-c/new+saloon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-4213597644586890486</id><published>2008-03-20T11:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:44:52.481-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seasons/Holidays'/><title type='text'>La primavera è qui!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/R-KHxw3xVII/AAAAAAAAAEA/4WAfBv7wdT8/s1600-h/yellow-daisy-flowers-full-frame-~-200523350-001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179851810431652994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/R-KHxw3xVII/AAAAAAAAAEA/4WAfBv7wdT8/s400/yellow-daisy-flowers-full-frame-~-200523350-001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-4213597644586890486?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/4213597644586890486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=4213597644586890486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4213597644586890486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4213597644586890486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/03/la-primavera-qui.html' title='La primavera è qui!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/R-KHxw3xVII/AAAAAAAAAEA/4WAfBv7wdT8/s72-c/yellow-daisy-flowers-full-frame-~-200523350-001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-9028573099486280517</id><published>2008-03-19T12:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T13:02:24.106-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Bleeding Love</title><content type='html'>I listen to the radio on the way to and from South Bend Tuesday nights.  Last night I heard a song that, at first, confused me.  Then I was just plain disgusted and horrified.  I think the lyrics are meant to be sweet, but I find them disturbing.  Here's an excerpt:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;a href="http://lyricwiki.org/Leona_Lewis:Bleeding_Love"&gt;Bleeding Love (Leona Lewis)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don't care what they say&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love with you&lt;br /&gt;They try to pull me away&lt;br /&gt;But they don't know the truth&lt;br /&gt;My heart's crippled by the vein&lt;br /&gt;That I keep on closing&lt;br /&gt;You cut me open and I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep bleeding&lt;br /&gt;Keep, keep bleeding love&lt;br /&gt;I keep bleeding&lt;br /&gt;I keep, keep bleeding love&lt;br /&gt;Keep bleeding&lt;br /&gt;Keep, keep bleeding love&lt;br /&gt;You cut me open&lt;/blockquote&gt;If the style of the song was hard rock, I don't think I'd care.  These lyrics could be considered tame.  But Leona's voice is similar to Celine Dion's and the style is reminiscent of a 1980's Whitney Houston dance track.  I could just be overreacting.  What do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-9028573099486280517?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/9028573099486280517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=9028573099486280517' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/9028573099486280517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/9028573099486280517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/03/bleeding-love.html' title='Bleeding Love'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-620721006032711132</id><published>2008-03-17T12:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T12:23:41.471-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Clothing'/><title type='text'>South Bend Sunday</title><content type='html'>Yesterday afternoon my mom and I went to South Bend on a quest to find new shoes that would satisfy my pickiness.  Result:  success!  Two new pairs of shoes have found their way into my closet.  And I must say, they're quite cute and put my older shoes to shame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To celebrate the find, we went to Olive Garden.  Mom had some kind of alfredo with shrimp, which I tasted.  I skipped supper and went straight for dessert:  tiramisu and cappuccino, which Mom tasted.  My routine involved taking a bite of one and then sipping the other, back and forth until I had my fill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was good to spend time with just Mom.  It seems I don't do it very often.  The drive to and from, walking through the mall, and eating out gave us a chance to talk.  I tend to forget that my mom is an actual person, not just a mom or a wife.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-620721006032711132?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/620721006032711132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=620721006032711132' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/620721006032711132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/620721006032711132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/03/south-bend-sunday.html' title='South Bend Sunday'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-8811272368079015717</id><published>2008-03-15T12:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T12:32:27.246-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Perspectives'/><title type='text'>Making a Difference</title><content type='html'>What is "making a difference"?  Who should/shouldn't do it?  Why or why not?  And how does one go about it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-8811272368079015717?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/8811272368079015717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=8811272368079015717' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8811272368079015717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8811272368079015717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/03/making-difference.html' title='Making a Difference'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-6938233805988304977</id><published>2008-03-11T12:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T12:18:04.941-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Politics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poll'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='History'/><title type='text'>Ronald Reagan Poll</title><content type='html'>Those who voted seemed to think that Ronald Reagan's time in office is common knowledge for someone in their twenties.  The reason I wanted to know what you think, is when my dad found out I knew, he was surprised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had been recounting to me what he remembered of the 1976 election, explaining that Reagan had run but not won.  When he made a point of saying he didn't win in '76 I sarcastically asked, "He didn't?"  Except my dad didn't realize I was being sarcastic and kept explaining to me what happened.  Then I had to let him know that I thought it was common knowledge, he was amazed that I would know this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Considering the fact that politics is one of the most talked about subjects in my house (especially during this season of election), you'd think my dad would know better.  Or maybe I just need to be obvious when I'm sarcastic, putting on a ridiculous grin and emphasizing what I'm saying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-6938233805988304977?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/6938233805988304977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=6938233805988304977' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6938233805988304977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/6938233805988304977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/03/ronald-reagan-poll.html' title='Ronald Reagan Poll'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-1099391311011242379</id><published>2008-03-06T12:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T12:26:02.326-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seasons/Holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Speech'/><title type='text'>Daylight Saving Time</title><content type='html'>As I was looking at my desk calendar at work recently, it hit me.  Daylight Saving Time will begin this coming Sunday.  However, I don't think I've ever heard anyone say it that way.  I always hear "Daylight &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Savings&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Time."  Do people always add an "s" to "saving" or do I just always hear it that way in my head?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-1099391311011242379?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/1099391311011242379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=1099391311011242379' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1099391311011242379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1099391311011242379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/03/daylight-saving-time.html' title='Daylight Saving Time'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-1861441304500729687</id><published>2008-02-29T12:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T12:18:19.823-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Clothing'/><title type='text'>That Explains It</title><content type='html'>The main topic of discussion last night at supper happened to be me.  Bits of my childhood, anyway.  I even learned something about my past that earily &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;foreshadows&lt;/span&gt; the way I function today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew that when I was three months old, my parents brought me along to a family reunion.  At this reunion, my great-great aunt Emily (for whom I am named) held me on her lap so my parents could take a picture of us.  (I've seen the picture.)  But there's one detail my parents failed to tell me... until last night.  When she held me, she exclaimed, "Somebody better put some clothes on this child!  She's shivering!"  And thus explains my need to have layers of clothing on when most people around me claim to be just fine with less.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-1861441304500729687?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/1861441304500729687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=1861441304500729687' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1861441304500729687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1861441304500729687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/that-explains-it.html' title='That Explains It'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-2855602839721912503</id><published>2008-02-28T16:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T16:29:37.487-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>TurboNote Curse</title><content type='html'>Remember the fun I had with TurboNote a week or so ago?  Now &lt;em&gt;Karl&lt;/em&gt; is having trouble with &lt;em&gt;his&lt;/em&gt;.  Except he can't even open it up.  Whenever he tries to, it won't let him.  And he was on the phone with a rep for a while trying to figure it out.  Maybe there's a curse in the office...  What could we have done to anger the TurboNote gods?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-2855602839721912503?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/2855602839721912503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=2855602839721912503' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2855602839721912503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2855602839721912503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/turbonote-curse.html' title='TurboNote Curse'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-1652358653732317249</id><published>2008-02-28T11:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T11:42:40.431-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poll'/><title type='text'>Blog Poll Response</title><content type='html'>In regard to my last poll... Most of you voted for more posts, even if they are short, simple, and random. I am making no promises to assure this happens, I just wanted to see where you fall on preferences. And to the loner who said it's perfect as is, thank you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-1652358653732317249?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/1652358653732317249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=1652358653732317249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1652358653732317249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1652358653732317249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/blog-poll-response.html' title='Blog Poll Response'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-5507506394989357000</id><published>2008-02-27T11:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T11:52:48.393-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brilliant ideas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>2 &gt; 1</title><content type='html'>For a couple of months now I've had two computer screens at work.  When I first found out my boss was buying a second one for me, I thought the second would be unnecessary and annoying.  But within little time I have come to love my new setup.  Here's why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) It allows me to look at two different things at the same time.  This leads to less time switching between screens (and also less frustration due to memory loss of what I was just looking at.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) It automatically makes me look more technologically savvy.  Always a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Why have one of something when you can have more?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, there is one main drawback.  If I have the urge to glance out of the window, I cannot see everything, for my second monitor blocks part of the view.  I have to move from my slightly slouched position to an upright and slightly out-of-chair position to see.  But my three reasons for far outweigh my one reason against.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5507506394989357000?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5507506394989357000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5507506394989357000' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5507506394989357000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5507506394989357000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/2-1.html' title='2 &gt; 1'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-5108137739280491185</id><published>2008-02-26T11:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T11:45:29.012-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ken'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Warsaw'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experiences'/><title type='text'>Grocery Shopping</title><content type='html'>A week ago Sunday I went to the grocery store. If that's all that happened, I wouldn't have much of a story. But as I parked and walked inside, I noticed something: one of the few cars in the parking lot looked familiar... too familiar. After grabbing a cart I immediately started scanning for someone, and I found him. Ken was just inside the entrance glancing at a magazine. Of course I had to spout some unintelligible mess about us being there at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so the two of us proceeded down the cereal aisle, the coffee/tea aisle, the frozen food aisle, etc. Each of us studied the other's picks, questioning when surprised by a choice. For instance, when we passed the boxes and boxes of tea, Ken wondered why I hardly glanced at them. I explained that I tend to buy a bunch of tea at the same time and store it at the house, taking a few out each time I run out of my current selection. Since I still had several unopened boxes at home, I didn't need to buy anymore just yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After gathering all of our items, we checked out... self-checkout style. Arriving at the same time gave us a chance to race each other. (I was racing him, but I don't think he cared.) Even though I had several more items than Ken, I still won by a few seconds. He claimed his slow time was greatly affected by the fact that some of his lighter items were not recognized as being "placed in the bag." Excuses, excuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What might this occurrence prove? That Warsaw is a small town? That Ken and I think alike? Or did this prove nothing?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5108137739280491185?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5108137739280491185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5108137739280491185' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5108137739280491185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5108137739280491185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/grocery-shopping_26.html' title='Grocery Shopping'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-4187409098008637065</id><published>2008-02-25T20:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:44:52.943-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Oh My!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/R8Nm3Se4cEI/AAAAAAAAAD4/fKyoUi49w3w/s1600-h/29_mdf1379471%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171089897191665730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/R8Nm3Se4cEI/AAAAAAAAAD4/fKyoUi49w3w/s400/29_mdf1379471%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; They look like they're having fun, they bring a smile to your face, and you've got to admire their confidence.  But I feel sorry for their families.  Embarrassment!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-4187409098008637065?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/4187409098008637065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=4187409098008637065' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4187409098008637065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/4187409098008637065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/oh-my.html' title='Oh My!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uS1C29jGtI4/R8Nm3Se4cEI/AAAAAAAAAD4/fKyoUi49w3w/s72-c/29_mdf1379471%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-5088426634168662318</id><published>2008-02-22T11:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T11:42:21.449-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sleep'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Dead to Me</title><content type='html'>I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't feel my left arm.  I mean nothing from my shoulder to my hand.  When I used my right hand to touch it, it was freakish.  Alarmed, I immediately got up, causing my left arm to swing around and hit my floor lamp and my left hand to then smack my face.  Within a minute the tingles started, I could feel my arm again, and I fell back asleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5088426634168662318?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5088426634168662318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5088426634168662318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5088426634168662318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5088426634168662318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/dead-to-me.html' title='Dead to Me'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-8646023274984774993</id><published>2008-02-21T17:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T17:46:59.938-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seasons/Holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experiences'/><title type='text'>TurboNote Gods</title><content type='html'>A Mr. Jonathan Erdman requested I blog about a work occurance.  I deliberated, thinking the occurance quite bland and uninteresting.  But then I thought, &lt;em&gt;Hey, so's everything else&lt;/em&gt;, so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a program we use at work called TurboNote.  It's basically a way of instant messaging someone through their computer in our office.  Don't feel like getting up to tell your boss something?  Send him a TurboNote!  You can also set one to pop up at certain times for a reminder or just use them to store information that you'll want to look up later.  It's a very handy system... if it works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it doesn't work, you can go crazy.  From Tuesday of last week through Monday of this week my TurboNotes just refused to show up three different times.  Three times!  A few measly ones hung around, but the others were BLANK.  Nothing on them.  It's not an "Oh my goodness the world just ended and I'm left behind" situation, because there's the option of restoring them and then deleting the extra blank notes that are left.  This works okay.  But doing this three different times in less than one week is frustrating.  Especially when you tend to keep over 100 notes around on your computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I am trying to remember to close out of the program before I restart my computer or leave it alone for the night/weekend, hoping this appeases the TurboNote gods.  And I'm making Jon do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who don't know, Jon and I used to work together.  He left, but has returned to plug in some time during the annual festival called "tax season."  The times he comes in are when I'm already gone, so he gets to use my computer.  His help is much appreciated!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-8646023274984774993?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/8646023274984774993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=8646023274984774993' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8646023274984774993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8646023274984774993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/turbonote-gods.html' title='TurboNote Gods'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-8868199530960003301</id><published>2008-02-21T11:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T11:48:09.521-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Prayer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brilliant ideas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sleep'/><title type='text'>This Just In!</title><content type='html'>I woke up happy this morning.  This &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;never&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; happens.  Most days I will eventually get in a decent mood, but since I don't consider myself a morning person, the first thoughts in my mind when slowly drifting into consciousness aren't normally positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will blame this unusual occurence on one thing: prayer.  I went to bed praying last night.  I even fell asleep praying.  My requests included that God bless my sleep, my night, and my morning.  I prayed for peace and joy.  And, oh my goodness, I think I got it!  I just find this encouraging and had to share...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-8868199530960003301?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/8868199530960003301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=8868199530960003301' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8868199530960003301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8868199530960003301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/this-just-in.html' title='This Just In!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-1351801374733704102</id><published>2008-02-20T17:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T17:36:34.764-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seasons/Holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Weather'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Florida</title><content type='html'>This morning as I was sitting at the dining room table eating breakfast, I watched the morning news/talk show that my mom had on.  They were interviewing synchronized swimmers who had just performed in Florida.  Spectators were wearing shorts and t-shirts.  I looked out of the window at the newly fallen snow and then at my mom and said, "I wouldn't mind taking a trip to Florida."  She smiled at me and replied with something like, "You can."  I followed with, "Yeah, but it's tax season."  The time of year that I most want to go to Florida to see my grandparents and aunts also happens to be the time it would be highly inconvenient.  Blaaaaahhhh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-1351801374733704102?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/1351801374733704102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=1351801374733704102' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1351801374733704102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1351801374733704102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/florida.html' title='Florida'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-3195036268580089237</id><published>2008-02-19T13:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T13:58:26.080-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Duh!</title><content type='html'>My new musical discovery:  movie scores!  Duh!  They're moving, entertaining, and yet not too distracting.  Perfect!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-3195036268580089237?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/3195036268580089237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=3195036268580089237' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3195036268580089237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3195036268580089237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/duh.html' title='Duh!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-5949833435033008158</id><published>2008-02-18T17:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T17:15:32.639-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Direction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Perspectives'/><title type='text'>Who I Am</title><content type='html'>I can get so caught up in contemplating where I'm supposed to be.  But I've been reminded recently that the real question is "Am I who I'm supposed to be?"  This directly ties to my relationship with God, and it trickles into all the little (and big) paths that I stress about.  And the fact that I tend to stress about things makes me wonder if I'm truly trusting God...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5949833435033008158?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5949833435033008158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5949833435033008158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5949833435033008158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5949833435033008158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/who-i-am.html' title='Who I Am'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-2098598379522597244</id><published>2008-02-15T08:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T08:51:48.610-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seasons/Holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Weather'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Let There Be Light!</title><content type='html'>The sun's actually been out a bit this week!  And the darkness doesn't set in until well past 6 p.m.!  Now if we can just get rid of some of the snow and make it a little warmer...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-2098598379522597244?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/2098598379522597244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=2098598379522597244' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2098598379522597244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/2098598379522597244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/let-there-be-light.html' title='Let There Be Light!'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-1965730158075353525</id><published>2008-02-14T11:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T12:02:14.225-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Influence</title><content type='html'>My life's goal is complete.  I have used the word "silly" around the office enough that my boss has now used it at least once.  I have influence in world!  (albeit small)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my computer's being nice to me again... so far.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-1965730158075353525?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/1965730158075353525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=1965730158075353525' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1965730158075353525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/1965730158075353525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/influence.html' title='Influence'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-5331846075814703526</id><published>2008-02-13T20:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T20:22:12.093-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Experiences'/><title type='text'>Computer Troubles</title><content type='html'>I got in an argument with my computer today.  It would have been okay if the argument lasted a couple minutes, but it lasted a large part of the day.  It went something like this…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Okay, let’s get some work done.  I’m clicking on this, now open.&lt;br /&gt;Computer:  That’s what you want to do?  I’ll pretend that I’m starting to open, but I’ll just take my time.&lt;br /&gt;Me:  What’s with you?  Maybe I need to get rid of a virus or something.  I’ll just pop this anti-virus software in, let it do its thing and get back to work.  So there.&lt;br /&gt;Computer:  If you say so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later…&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Oh, you stupid thing.  You’re getting slow again.&lt;br /&gt;Computer:  Fooled ya!&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Fine, I’ll restart you.  Can’t argue with me now!&lt;br /&gt;Computer:  No, not that! (with a sarcastically evil laugh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still later…&lt;br /&gt;Me:  You’re still as slow as ever!  Even slower actually!!!&lt;br /&gt;Computer:  All will be mine!!!  First I will gain full control over every computer in Warsaw.  Then Indiana!  And eventually the world!!!  Hahaha!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me again.  So I felt like doing something very mean to my computer today.  Maybe tomorrow I (or my boss) can figure it out.  The thing is, my computer and I are normally best buds…  It plays me my music, lets me check my email and the blogs of all you wonderful people, and especially lets me get work done.  Sniff.  I need a new best bud.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-5331846075814703526?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/5331846075814703526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=5331846075814703526' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5331846075814703526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/5331846075814703526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/computer-troubles.html' title='Computer Troubles'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-613448210753594073</id><published>2008-02-07T17:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T17:27:47.328-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Warsaw'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Zimmer Announces Expansion Into Ireland</title><content type='html'>This is the &lt;a href="http://www.timesuniononline.com/main.asp?SectionID=2&amp;amp;SubSectionID=224&amp;amp;ArticleID=30435&amp;amp;TM=62519.43"&gt;article &lt;/a&gt;my eyes fell upon when looking over the paper yesterday evening.  I found it interesting....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zimmer Announces Expansion Into Ireland&lt;br /&gt;Staff Report&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zimmer Inc. soon will expand to Ireland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to information from the company, Zimmer Inc. will expand its manufacturing facilities to a 100,000-square-foot location in Shannon, Ireland."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are delighted to be adding a new Ireland facility to our global network," said Zimmer President and CEO David Dvorak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We are constantly assessing our worldwide operations and logistics network to maximize efficiency and customer service, and this project is a result of that process. We are grateful for the cooperation and encouragement of the national and local officials in Shannon and look forward to establishing a facility that utilizes the tremendous skills and expertise of the workforce to produce high-technology medical devices."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The company considered several locations, including existing sites and other worldwide locations, before deciding on Shannon. Zimmer Inc. expects to invest $70 to $75 million in the Shannon plant in the next two years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Manufacturing at the Shannon facility is projected to begin late this year. To begin, the plant will employ 25 to 50 people, which will expand to about 250 employees in five years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The facility will make knee replacement implants at start-up, and other product could be added in the future. Shannon Development and Irish Development Agency officials gave Zimmer Inc. tax rate adjustments, training grants and incentives to locate in Ireland. Actual amount of the grants, tax adjustments and incentives were not released."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zimmer's decision to establish Shannon Free Zone adds significantly to Ireland's profile as a leading location for medical device companies in Europe," said Michael Martin, minister for enterprise, trade and employment in Ireland. "This investment is welcome news for Shannon and was secured by Shannon Development with the assistance of IDA Ireland. Zimmer can be confident of finding highly skilled professionals and infrastructure of international standards in this part of the country. More and more companies are discovering the benefits of locating in regional centers throughout Ireland."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shannon Development's Chief Executive Kevin Thompstone said, "This is a tremendous boost for Shannon; it is one of the largest projects to locate at the Shannon Free Zone in recent years. We are delighted that Zimmer have chosen Shannon. The Zimmer decision is the result of Shannon Development and IDA Ireland working to secure this project for Shannon. One of the key economic benefits of a project of this scale is the employment opportunities it presents for Irish graduates and professionals at all levels."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past several years, Zimmer Inc. has added approximately 600 new jobs by expanding its Warsaw manufacturing, research and development and distribution facilities. Zimmer currently employs about 2,400 people in Warsaw.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-613448210753594073?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/613448210753594073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=613448210753594073' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/613448210753594073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/613448210753594073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/zimmer-announces-expansion-into-ireland.html' title='Zimmer Announces Expansion Into Ireland'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-3022527325571009287</id><published>2008-02-07T11:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T11:21:51.713-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Internet Radio</title><content type='html'>I'm adding variety to the music I listen to at work so I don't go crazy from jazz overload.  I've been listening to a bit of classical guitar and baroque recently, and today I started with a relaxing music channel.  I am blessed to listen to songs like "Emerald Forest," "Springtime Wholeness," and "Zen Peace."  Oh, yeah.  Next time you see me, I'll have an expression of complete and utter serenity on my face.  And maybe I'll be hovering over the ground an inch or two.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-3022527325571009287?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/3022527325571009287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=3022527325571009287' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3022527325571009287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/3022527325571009287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/internet-radio.html' title='Internet Radio'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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-7958804958795889705.post-7245495940507619217</id><published>2008-02-04T20:50:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T21:02:14.433-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Etiquette'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Media'/><title type='text'>Sweet Talk</title><content type='html'>Have you seen the commercial where a guy is ordering inside of a fast food restaurant while talking on his cell phone to his significant other? He says something into the phone, but the lady taking his order thinks he's talking to her. I was reminded of this commercial today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A guy called the office asking to set up an appointment. No problem. I can do that. When I start questioning him as to what day and time would work best for him, he pauses and says, "Sweetie, are you going to be working then?" When he said this, he sounded muffled. However, every other word he had said previously was also muffled. I pause, thinking him strange, but not wanting to make a big deal out of it, I say, "Yes." He then says, "Oh, I was talking to my girlfriend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt silly finding this out. But this being the case, he should have put his hand over the phone, preceded his change of direction with, "Let me ask my girlfriend," or some other distinction. Then again, I should have known better.  Ah, well. At least he wasn't some creep who called me "Sweetie."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-7245495940507619217?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/7245495940507619217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=7245495940507619217' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/7245495940507619217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/7245495940507619217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/02/sweet-talk.html' title='Sweet Talk'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958804958795889705.post-8578987432804597597</id><published>2008-01-31T13:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T13:11:26.684-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Warsaw'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Police'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Going Downhill</title><content type='html'>In the last few weeks I've been seeing cops hanging out within a block of my place of work. Previously I hardly ever saw them unless they were on their way &lt;em&gt;to&lt;/em&gt; somewhere. Hmmm.... Maybe my neighborhood's going downhill. You know how dangerous Warsaw can get.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7958804958795889705-8578987432804597597?l=theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/feeds/8578987432804597597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7958804958795889705&amp;postID=8578987432804597597' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8578987432804597597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7958804958795889705/posts/default/8578987432804597597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theeducationoflittletree.blogspot.com/2008/01/going-downhill.html' title='Going Downhill'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00936753582229635864</uri><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></feed>
