<?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-14872659</id><updated>2012-02-16T10:22:04.719-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Movement You Need</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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>502</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-8665477155923510072</id><published>2012-02-16T10:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-16T10:22:04.728-08:00</updated><title type='text'>nothing special</title><content type='html'>I went to the gym on Monday...with good intentions of the week! It's Thursday, I am just now getting ready to go back. Darn. Some days the umph is just not there. Today I'm kicking my own ass to get there. I worked on my play last night and today...it is getting closer. It makes me laugh out loud...so that's a good sign. I need it to be light hearted and funny. We will see how it goes. Class is tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's dripping outside. The snow is slowly melting away. What a weird winter. I just watched Smash from this week. The jury is still out on that show. Not sure. The writing is kind of bad. I love the singing...but that can't hold it together. I really want it to work. It's so cheesy and bland. The actors don't have juicy lines. And...it's so predictable. hum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I feel I should've been a director. Tomorrow, maybe an editor. Definitely not a professional blogger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When all other TV fails, I say tune into Downton Abbey. I find myself yelling at the screen though. It's so frustratingly good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-8665477155923510072?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/8665477155923510072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=8665477155923510072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8665477155923510072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8665477155923510072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/02/nothing-special.html' title='nothing special'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-2413764529267396481</id><published>2012-02-15T07:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-15T07:56:14.960-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Lucky</title><content type='html'>As I cleaned up the kitchen this morning, I could hear the Today Show discussing all of the medication in Whitney Houston's hotel room. Whether she took all of them, we'll see. But what struck me was that I'd been on all of them--at the same time--and more. All during my 20s I was on medication for anxiety/depression. But, when I was 27-30 I was on the most I'd ever been on. It was a cocktail of medications that my "doctor" kept prescribing. I think I took 5 different meds and about 7 pills at one time. Their effects were life altering. I had no short term memory--(this lead to me getting being softly let go from a job), I would fall asleep mentally before I'd actually be asleep physically--(this lead to many conversations and such that I did not remember the next day) and I could hear things that no one else heard. I could hear music being played. No one else heard it. I could see sleet falling outside. No one else could see it. I was put on&amp;nbsp;lithium for a time--a time where I threw up as much as I did when I was on Paxil years before. I drank at times while on these medications. I was irresponsible and out of my mind. I have complete losses of memory. I could look at one of my closest friends and couldn't tell you their name. It was an awful time. And...I was lucky. I could easily have been Heath Ledger or Whitney Houston. I could have overdosed many times--mostly because I couldn't remember if I'd taken my pills or not. It's easy to be confused. It's natural to trust your doctors. You feel as if nothing is going to hurt you...the medicine was prescribed to you, after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's very easy for me to relate to what happened to Whitney. I had times of acting crazy...where I weighed next to nothing, when I treated people poorly--those I loved. I was a mess. I didn't see it. I loved being thin. I loved popping whatever in order to feel a certain way. I loved the escape of sleep and of feeling completely numb. I leaned on friends for money and for comfort. I treated men terribly, especially one. I was lucky I made it out alive. I think my saving grace was that I didn't drink heavily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many are not as lucky. It's shocking how easily we self destruct...and are aided by doctors to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally quit all of it when I realized I wanted to be with Jason. I wanted to have a baby. I saw a future with someone who loved me for me. I knew I couldn't be so damaged...or I didn't want to be anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-2413764529267396481?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/2413764529267396481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=2413764529267396481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2413764529267396481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2413764529267396481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/02/crazy.html' title='Crazy Lucky'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-7713364402954304220</id><published>2012-02-14T13:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-14T13:37:02.109-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Blue</title><content type='html'>It seems that I continue to struggle with this damn anxiety feeling. It grips me and doesn't let go. Is it that I'm just made this way? Am I focusing too much on it? Though--I cleaned, baked and danced today, it didn't seem to matter. (Although I &amp;nbsp;made valentine's cookies with a delicious lemon glaze and they are so good.) I'm listening to music. I'm breathing in and out. It seems like I write more about this than I'd like. Is everyone like this? Is it a winter struggle? Is it the constant reminders of loss? Is it that I stay at home? Is it that I need something more to do? What is it?!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to feel this way. I want to be a happy person. I want to be someone is gets blue once in a while. But I seem to be a person who has phases of feeling blue weekly. It's not an all day thing...it lasts for hours and then subsides. Odd, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom just came up. She's short pages on her play--I &amp;nbsp;just talked her through her ending and gave her more of a resolution. She seems happy with the idea and is now off typing it up. Ah...if only life was so easy to rearrange and add whatever ending you wanted. For now I'm going to find comfort in the fact that many artists and writers struggle with the blues. This is giving me too much credit, but I'm going to hold on to it anyway--it gives me hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/68ugkg9RePc/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/68ugkg9RePc&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/68ugkg9RePc&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song so reminds me of London with Lisa....ok, feeling a bit better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-7713364402954304220?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/7713364402954304220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=7713364402954304220' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7713364402954304220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7713364402954304220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/02/im-blue.html' title='I&apos;m Blue'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-1891730407995268128</id><published>2012-02-10T14:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T14:50:01.227-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't read if you are in a good mood. Relish it.</title><content type='html'>Today is cloudy, cold. My emotions are just at the surface. As I was driving back from the grocery store today--I thought, "I hope all of this is worth it." &amp;nbsp;I mean, with all of this sadness. Of course, life contains so many wonderful days--but today, the sadness of loss is taking me over. The loss over friends taken too soon. The loss of children. The loss of family members before we are ready to say goodbye. The loss of a pet. Tragic loss. Gradual loss. All of it. It just overtakes me sometimes...the weight we all bare. The pain we have to endure. Some endure so much more than others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hope we understand one day. Right now...I don't and my heart breaks watching people go through so much pain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-1891730407995268128?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/1891730407995268128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=1891730407995268128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1891730407995268128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1891730407995268128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/02/dont-read-if-you-are-in-good-mood.html' title='Don&apos;t read if you are in a good mood. Relish it.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-5950699266330947381</id><published>2012-02-09T10:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T10:27:00.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It was the best of times...</title><content type='html'>Today I am quickly writing out a class exercise and finishing up the rough draft of my 10 min play. It's sunny again...but chilly. The sky is a gorgeous shade of blue, so I won't complain that we still don't have snow. Class is tonight and I'm hoping to leave a bit early to get to Starry Nights cafe bar for a little sip of something before it starts. Last week Mom had a sort of wine slushy--it was...interesting. If they'd sold margaritas I probably wouldn't have gotten her to class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've gone to the gym each day this week. I'm hoping to get going here again soon. It's been nice to have this time with Mom. We go to the gym together...we sit at the kitchen table all morning and write together...we watch Downton together. It's good. She's really digging into her past for this class and it is fascinating to hear all of these stories I'd never heard before. Little mysteries of the family that she's wondered about. It'll be a time I will think about later in my life. It's a time of discovery on both our parts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-5950699266330947381?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/5950699266330947381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=5950699266330947381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/5950699266330947381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/5950699266330947381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/02/it-was-best-of-times.html' title='It was the best of times...'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-8183224561416664831</id><published>2012-02-08T07:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T07:03:49.839-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Macca's back and so am I.</title><content type='html'>It's been a while--a week since I've written... Since then, I've turned 37, Paul McCartney released a new album, I've finally finished my idea for my 10 minute play and my mom arrived and is also working on her play. It's going well. My birthday was non eventful this year. I'm okay with it. I used to be BIG on birthdays...and maybe I will be next year. This year it was just wasn't in me to celebrate, I think I was too tired that day. The playwriting class is going well. I'm really liking it and finding it so interesting and fun. I also think it's helping Mom process some of the things she went through with her brother's death. She's writing about that whole situation. I shied away from writing about Bill and Lynn--I wrote a small two page piece about it and realized I wasn't ready to do that. Instead, my piece is about a woman who finds out that the group of friends she's had for a good number of years has been spouse swapping and she's the last one to know. As soon as it's done, I'll post it for you. It's funny, really. I am focusing on comedic beats throughout instead of getting so heavy. I felt it was too much pressure and it was dragging me down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no real snow. This winter kind of sucks. I like huge snows and beautiful wintery days inside watching it all fall. I'm still hopeful. Today is sunny and nice, damnit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that Mom is finally settled in, I'll feel like I can blog again daily. We've been watching Downton Abbey and writing each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW-- I am LOVING Paul's &amp;nbsp;new album. It is different than anything he's done. If you have time, you should listen to it. It's really relaxing and beautiful. I love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mBM03MBtjc8/TzKOtI2ngWI/AAAAAAAAH5k/bgy8lqMQo00/s1600/paulwithflowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mBM03MBtjc8/TzKOtI2ngWI/AAAAAAAAH5k/bgy8lqMQo00/s320/paulwithflowers.jpg" width="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-8183224561416664831?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/8183224561416664831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=8183224561416664831' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8183224561416664831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8183224561416664831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/02/maccas-back-and-so-am-i.html' title='Macca&apos;s back and so am I.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-mBM03MBtjc8/TzKOtI2ngWI/AAAAAAAAH5k/bgy8lqMQo00/s72-c/paulwithflowers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-1337443918215258323</id><published>2012-02-01T06:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T06:51:24.092-08:00</updated><title type='text'>let it all hang out.</title><content type='html'>As&amp;nbsp;anticipated, my lows yesterday made for highs today. Today, I feel perfectly balanced. I'm cleaning up the house and getting ready for my mom to get in later tonight. I have my scene with two characters done and am working on my monologue. It isn't my favorite...I think it might need to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is rainy, but really beautiful outside. There are little droplets on the trees...makes them look as if they are decorated with crystals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about all of the things I use online and how much my likes and my personality flood into so many areas. I just started Pinterest and it's amazing to think of how my grandmothers would have used it. I was too young to ask them all the things I'm interested in now. I would love to know what styles they loved, what books, movies, recipes or quotes that were part of their lives. Every time I write or publish something, I think of Z. How she will know me unlike I know anyone in my family. My family is quite private. They don't talk about their feelings much. They certainly don't blog about their daily ups and downs. I've always felt somewhat like an alien. I think I am the way I am because of the guesswork I've used on trying to figure out how everyone feels. My mom, sister and dad are mostly mysteries to me. They are all kind people...but very reserved. Too much talking makes them squirm a bit--at least in my experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I do let it all hang out a bit much. It matters not to me. The best way to learn how to get through this life is from the experiences of others. My friends are mostly open books as well. They may need some prodding, but they normally open up and share what I need them to. I chose them carefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live and share--you may help someone in ways you may never know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-1337443918215258323?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/1337443918215258323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=1337443918215258323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1337443918215258323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1337443918215258323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/02/let-it-all-hang-out.html' title='let it all hang out.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-2368097327504406702</id><published>2012-01-31T06:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T06:54:30.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>missing ingredients</title><content type='html'>I want to be one of those people that I like to be around. I enjoy upbeat, sunshiny people. People I know who struggle, yet seem to be so&amp;nbsp;resilient. I have many ups and downs during the day. And maybe I have too much time on my &amp;nbsp;hands to think about it, yes. However, the feelings are here and I have times where I feel too vulnerable and want to find a safe place to hide. As a grown woman, I find this&amp;nbsp;disheartening. I want to be a warrior women, not a victim. Z doesn't see it, but I feel it. It could be that I naturally struggle with my emotions--passed down to me from many women in my family who struggle emotionally. I fight against it. I write about it, I clean, I organize, I sing, I dance, I go to the gym, I think of how Z needs me to be, I bake. &amp;nbsp;Sometimes I bask in the sun like a cat. I try to absorb as much Vit D as I possibly can. I am plagued by daily bouts of doubt and concern. I worry about offending people or of not being what I need to be for them. My mother would say that a job outside the home would do me some good. That thought only seems to&amp;nbsp;aggravate&amp;nbsp;me. Why am I not wired the way I want to be? Why do I not control how I am? So, like most days, I come up with a game plan--or create a list of things to complete in order to feel productive. "If it looks right, it will all be all right." (this is such bullshit)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this time, I don't want to take medicine in order to feel better. I've done that. It didn't work with my life. &amp;nbsp;At this time, I'll going to just purge here (lucky you) and hope it's enough to bleed out the negativity of the day. I want to feel strong and creative and weightless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My need to surround myself with strong women seems to work like grasping at floatation devices. I hope to float on my own one day soon. I do more days than I used to. It will come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-2368097327504406702?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/2368097327504406702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=2368097327504406702' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2368097327504406702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2368097327504406702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/missing-ingredients.html' title='missing ingredients'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-7792342576013166651</id><published>2012-01-30T13:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T13:36:11.598-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funeral Blues</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;Funeral Blues by Wystan Hugh Auden&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,&lt;br /&gt;Silence the pianos and with muffled drum&lt;br /&gt;Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead&lt;br /&gt;Scribbling in the sky the message He is Dead,&lt;br /&gt;Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,&lt;br /&gt;Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was my North, my South, my East and West,&lt;br /&gt;My working week and my Sunday rest&lt;br /&gt;My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,&lt;br /&gt;Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.&lt;br /&gt;Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;&lt;br /&gt;For nothing now can ever come to any good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;This resonates much more to me now than it did when I originally heard it many years ago. Below it's read in Four Weddings and a Funeral. Today, I read it again in Blue Nights.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/W7kp-NWIfjI/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/W7kp-NWIfjI&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/W7kp-NWIfjI&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-7792342576013166651?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/7792342576013166651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=7792342576013166651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7792342576013166651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7792342576013166651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/funeral-blues.html' title='Funeral Blues'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-2085064420649056410</id><published>2012-01-30T11:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T11:45:48.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>quick.</title><content type='html'>headed to the gym to help with anxiety brought on by lack of sleep. it helps! i doubt i will burn very many calories...but at least i will get to listen to my book. sometimes just getting out and breathing fresh air helps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;breath in breath out breath in breath out breath in.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love that song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-2085064420649056410?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/2085064420649056410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=2085064420649056410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2085064420649056410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2085064420649056410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/quick.html' title='quick.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-877588529856914200</id><published>2012-01-30T10:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T10:39:50.699-08:00</updated><title type='text'>why we live here.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IbZMXS82grM/Tybiy8GD8ZI/AAAAAAAAH30/t4EbkqNjN1M/s1600/IMGP8828.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IbZMXS82grM/Tybiy8GD8ZI/AAAAAAAAH30/t4EbkqNjN1M/s320/IMGP8828.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-877588529856914200?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/877588529856914200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=877588529856914200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/877588529856914200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/877588529856914200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/why-we-live-here.html' title='why we live here.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-IbZMXS82grM/Tybiy8GD8ZI/AAAAAAAAH30/t4EbkqNjN1M/s72-c/IMGP8828.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-8797814320965803838</id><published>2012-01-28T11:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T11:26:55.459-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Religion and Bad Friends.</title><content type='html'>So, yesterday I was paralyzed at the thought of coming up with a scene and monologue for class. I became tired--naps are my natural escape. It's very Scarlett O'Hara (I'll think about that tomorrow)--but today I have them down. The monologue will deal with a friendship that needs to be cut loose. Or, I at least need to take a step back from them. &amp;nbsp;My realization comes after a phone call in which I feel worse after than before--and I was already coming from a very low place. I was calling for solace and found none. I really feel that many deal with this issue. We have friends that are toxic to us. They don't mean to be--but they drain your energy and you have nothing left after talking with them. They are so self absorbed that you've become a sounding board for them, not a friend. Friends listen and respond. They acknowledge you and validate you. We somehow become unpaid therapist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two page scene is derived from a conversation I had with Jason after we were told we were not allowed to stay at his parents' home together because we were not married. (We'd stayed there before when were "just friends") It deals with his frustration about religion and my irritation at the fact that we were seen as a "bad influence" on their teenage son. (The same son that we knew was already having sex and doing drugs, but they didn't know that yet.) ----This is no longer the case. This was over 5 years ago, but the scene is a good one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my planning is done. That's a relief. I came up early this morning with Z and as she watched cartoons, I brainstormed. It was a good morning for both of us. I created a mini fortress and we both sat it in and did our thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping to get the playwriting rhythm down first and then tackle the stories I really want to tackle. Until then, I don't feel that I have the skill set to show them the respect they deserve. My mom is jumping right in though--right into the issues she needs to deal with. She's more seasoned though...and is a natural writer. She and my sister are naturally good at everything--I have to work at everything...for years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-8797814320965803838?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/8797814320965803838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=8797814320965803838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8797814320965803838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8797814320965803838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/bad-religion-and-bad-friends.html' title='Bad Religion and Bad Friends.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-3176789654514828180</id><published>2012-01-27T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T07:31:11.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eavesdropper</title><content type='html'>Today I'm researching. I had my playwriting class last night. It was the first night. It was intimidating. I felt such anxiety to write something profound. It didn't happen. I wanted to write something perfectly witty and inspired. That didn't happen either. We had 10 mins to put together 2 pages, 2 characters--neither could say over 4 words per line. The first line was "I'm here." It was challenging. I did it, but it wasn't fantastic. Today I'm relieved to have a week to create. We're to have a scene and a monologue done by next Thursday. I have no idea what I will write. I'm looking through magazines to get ideas from pictures. It will come to me. It's a great way to make your brain work in ways it doesn't normally. It's a good way to jump start my writing. I loved the building we were in. It's definitely a community of writers...like minded souls. I felt at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today...I'm thinking of conversations that I would love to overhear. What would keep me glued to every word? What would I be willing to stand in the hall for ten minutes to hear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note...about good conversations...Rosie totally reconstructed her show on OWN. It was a talk show with an audience...it was rather boring to me last season. This season it is a one on one conversation with her guest. She did a two day show with Kathy Griffin and it was excellent. Really. It could be that not every show is a one on one...but the ones that are, are spot on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a clip. They didn't have the best moments of the show posted, but these aren't bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/d0hd1FjNcMY/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/d0hd1FjNcMY&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/d0hd1FjNcMY&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's one more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/JLyAjqP-zNY/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JLyAjqP-zNY&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JLyAjqP-zNY&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-3176789654514828180?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/3176789654514828180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=3176789654514828180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3176789654514828180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3176789654514828180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/eavesdropper.html' title='Eavesdropper'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-7670504271049553248</id><published>2012-01-26T09:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T09:19:57.912-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FU, SAD</title><content type='html'>Tonight is my playwriting class. It's the first night, so I'm a little anxious. The writing I've had in my head lately is less about the dialogue and more about the thoughts before the words. That's hard to portray in a play. I know basically what I want to write about. I don't know how much experience will be in the class--I have none. I wrote stories, when I did write. This will be totally different. It's good to exercise the muscle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is a day where I feel as if I keep taking deep breaths--as if I'm about to dive into water. I seem to react to how my insides are feeling instead of creating my mood. I don't have a split personality, but I feel as if there are two parts of me. The inside workings and the physical reaction--but they are not connected. Sounds like a great reason to meditate. Maybe I do just need to sit silently for a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to meet new friends tonight. I'm hoping to feel inspired. I'm hoping to feel comfortable and at ease. I do put too much weight onto certain situations. I base a lot on how I feel. I look for like mindedness. I look for "feelers" and people who are not afraid to skip small talk. (Oh, how I hate small talk.) I am tired of feeling like I have to be amongst people where I obviously don't fit in. That is what school was for. You were forced to sit with these people. As an adult, you can choose. And, at 36 (almost 37), I just don't want to feel like I'm wasting my time with anyone who I can't see ever being close to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Z wakes up, I'll go the gym. We've gone every day this week. It helps to get my heart pumping. Seasonal Affective Disorder is real. The fight is on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-7670504271049553248?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/7670504271049553248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=7670504271049553248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7670504271049553248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7670504271049553248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/fu-sad.html' title='FU, SAD'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-3824059969281213527</id><published>2012-01-25T11:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T11:36:37.540-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blue Nights</title><content type='html'>I started a new book, Blue Nights by Joan Didion. It's a memoir about a woman mourning the loss of her daughter. It's beautifully written. The triggers of memory...the questioning of her own mothering...it's something so&amp;nbsp;relatable. Her thought processes are understandable. I think there is so much to learn through loss--it is easier to read about it or to hear about it...instead of going through it yourself. Nothing can prepare us for such grief. I know this. I picked the book to read in order to learn how maybe I could see things differently in my own life. I learn through others' experiences the best. I've always been slow to learn how to go about life. I always look for direction. Death is such a part of life--but I struggle with how to cope with it. I struggle with how to comfort others. The more I learn about the lives of others, the more I learn about myself. I feel as if I'm somehow arming myself for things to come. The shock of such loss seems to put chinks in my armor. I know it won't work. I know I won't feel any more prepared...but I'll have some type of comfort knowing how someone else found their way.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I highly recommend it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QNDH3n3S9FI/TyBZYehrIuI/AAAAAAAAH1E/tzIVSEhhLjQ/s1600/BlueNights_AF-460x282.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="196" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QNDH3n3S9FI/TyBZYehrIuI/AAAAAAAAH1E/tzIVSEhhLjQ/s320/BlueNights_AF-460x282.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-3824059969281213527?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/3824059969281213527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=3824059969281213527' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3824059969281213527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3824059969281213527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/blue-nights.html' title='Blue Nights'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-QNDH3n3S9FI/TyBZYehrIuI/AAAAAAAAH1E/tzIVSEhhLjQ/s72-c/BlueNights_AF-460x282.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-8018185071177456507</id><published>2012-01-25T06:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T06:01:54.465-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Her Muse Has Died - Ronda Miller</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;Her Muse Has Died&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;In remembrance - Dima (By Ronda Miller--a dear friend of mine)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;Her muse has died.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;Still, the snow flies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;" /&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;and the wind whistles&lt;br /&gt;through the trees.&lt;br /&gt;Buds push upwards&lt;br /&gt;towards light.&lt;br /&gt;Backs of heads turn as faces&lt;br /&gt;of human and flower alike&lt;br /&gt;follow movement of the sun.&lt;br /&gt;Her muse has died.&lt;br /&gt;Earth revolves on its axis,&lt;br /&gt;the ground splits open&lt;br /&gt;during droughts.&lt;br /&gt;Fire ants harvest delights&lt;br /&gt;to present their queen.&lt;br /&gt;Shrill cicadas burst forth,&lt;br /&gt;impossible to silence,&lt;br /&gt;their sounds deafening.&lt;br /&gt;Newly birthed lime green bodies climb through seams that once held them tight.&lt;br /&gt;Beige shells, left gaping and alone, clutch in death's grip&lt;br /&gt;on surfaces such as trees or&lt;br /&gt;undersides of decks,&lt;br /&gt;barely making&lt;br /&gt;it above ground before abandoned.&lt;br /&gt;For all the protection&lt;br /&gt;once provided, now so&lt;br /&gt;light to hold in hands&lt;br /&gt;large or small.&lt;br /&gt;One swift movement&lt;br /&gt;transforms into crumpled&lt;br /&gt;remains blown&lt;br /&gt;by the slightest breeze&lt;br /&gt;or even the breath of a child.&lt;br /&gt;Her muse has died.&lt;br /&gt;Tears flood her face,&lt;br /&gt;washing it anew each&lt;br /&gt;morning and night&lt;br /&gt;where time fells the aloneness deep inside her chest.&lt;br /&gt;She cannot help but wonder how she could be left alive through such pain.&lt;br /&gt;Still, wheat rustles&lt;br /&gt;in its sheath, never alone,&lt;br /&gt;crowded upon the stem&lt;br /&gt;so green, now astonishing&lt;br /&gt;in the golden&lt;br /&gt;splendor of the sun and moon.&lt;br /&gt;Dew descends like a jewel&lt;br /&gt;into the darkness of the night, reflecting the slightest of light so all with vision&lt;br /&gt;view the twinkling.&lt;br /&gt;A tiny universe of starlight&lt;br /&gt;among the blades of grass.&lt;br /&gt;Her muse has died,&lt;br /&gt;but nature echoes back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;I've posted poems by Ronda before. I love this one.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-8018185071177456507?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/8018185071177456507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=8018185071177456507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8018185071177456507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8018185071177456507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/her-muse-has-died-ronda-miller.html' title='Her Muse Has Died - Ronda Miller'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-686645939148759689</id><published>2012-01-24T08:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T08:31:36.445-08:00</updated><title type='text'>thin skinned</title><content type='html'>It is a slow morning...nice. Z woke us up before 7, she went down for an early nap. The gray light is slowly pouring into the windows of the house. I've had too much coffee already. I did watch the Oscar nominations...and already posted my thoughts. I'm productive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______later&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm replaying a conversation in my head I had with someone yesterday who seem to convey that staying at home is for the mindless. I know that is not what they said, it is what I heard. (too sensitive???!) It is hard to stay home. It is hard to go to dinner and have people discussing work and I have nothing to add. It is hard to have people say patronizing things to you about staying home. It's&amp;nbsp;aggravating. Is EVERY DAY a hard day? No. Yes, some days are lazy. Some days we stay in our pajamas. Some days she is wonderful with no tantrums and those days seem like a cake walk. But then there are other days...that most people would want to leave out the front door within minutes. Yes, I only have one right now. Gosh, must seem pretty simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I taking it too personally? Yes. Because I struggle with it as well. I miss going to work. I miss having co-workers. I miss thinking about different things than I do right now. I miss dressing up. But, I am happy to do what I'm doing. I love the relationship I have with Z. I would never discredit a working mom...ever. I can't imagine having so mental energy. We who stay home struggle with many things. Women who work struggle. There is no clear answer...but I'm bothered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-686645939148759689?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/686645939148759689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=686645939148759689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/686645939148759689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/686645939148759689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/thin-skinned.html' title='thin skinned'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-1926749101624379619</id><published>2012-01-24T07:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T07:51:23.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And...the nominees are...</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;BEST PICTURE&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ArTisT- &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Have yet to see it, but see it winning.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The DescenDAnTs- &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Saw it...surprised to see it as a nominee.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;exTremely louD &amp;amp; increDibly close--&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;hopefully seeing it soon!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The help-- &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;saw it. deserved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hugo-&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; saw it, deserved. a beautiful film.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;miDnighT in pAris &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;saw it, deserved. (loved this one.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moneybAll--&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;saw it...a surprise...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Tree of life--&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;at least I can order it on Amazon...have yet to see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WAr horse--&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;have yet to see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;ACToR In A LEAdIng RoLE -- &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;I can't believe Michael Fassbender was not nominated.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;I haven't seen all of these yet...but I really did think Clooney was outstanding.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Demián bichir&lt;br /&gt;A BeTTeR Life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;george clooney&lt;br /&gt;THe DeSCeNDANTS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jean Dujardin&lt;br /&gt;THe ARTiST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gary oldman&lt;br /&gt;TiNKeR TAiLoR SoLDieR SPy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;brad pitt---REALLY???!!!&lt;br /&gt;MoNeyBALL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;ACToR In A SUPPoRTIng RoLE--&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Have a lot to see here...Jonah was very good. Plummer was great.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenneth branagh&lt;br /&gt;My WeeK WiTH MARiLyN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jonah hill&lt;br /&gt;MoNeyBALL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nick nolte&lt;br /&gt;WARRioR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;christopher plummer&lt;br /&gt;BeGiNNeRS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;max von sydow&lt;br /&gt;exTReMeLy LouD &amp;amp; iNCReDiBLy CLoSe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;ACTRESS In A LEAdIng RoLE-- &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Loved Rooney and Viola...need to see the others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;glenn close&lt;br /&gt;ALBeRT NoBBS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viola Davis&lt;br /&gt;THe HeLP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rooney mara&lt;br /&gt;THe GiRL WiTH THe DRAGoN TATToo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;meryl streep&lt;br /&gt;THe iRoN LADy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;michelle Williams&lt;br /&gt;My WeeK WiTH MARiLyN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;ACTRESS In A SUPPoRTIng&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;RoLE-- &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;I think Mccarthy's nom was so great. I loved her. Nice to see.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bérénice bejo&lt;br /&gt;THe ARTiST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jessica chastain&lt;br /&gt;THe HeLP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;melissa mccarthy&lt;br /&gt;BRiDeSMAiDS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Janet mcTeer&lt;br /&gt;ALBeRT NoBBS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;octavia spencer&lt;br /&gt;THe HeLP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-1926749101624379619?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/1926749101624379619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=1926749101624379619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1926749101624379619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1926749101624379619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/andthe-nominees-are.html' title='And...the nominees are...'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-507029718652641203</id><published>2012-01-23T07:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T07:46:10.550-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I remember you...</title><content type='html'>It's raining. It's gray...but my mood is good. My back is somewhat out again. ?? I stood wrong for a second and there it went. Strange. Makes me feel so old.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saturday night we went to see Shame. Wow. I knew what it was about. I sort of knew what to expect. However, I didn't think I would be enlightened...and actually feel how desperate the characters felt. I didn't know I would somewhat relate. (It's about a man--Michael Fassbender dealing with sexual addiction..and his sister who is a vulnerable, lost soul.) It was excruciating to watch at times. The sex didn't bother me as much as how he seemed in so much pain all of the time. And goodness...Carey Mulligan, who plays his sister--she was&amp;nbsp;fantastic. She is someone you just want to take care of. She is an open wound. They both need such mending and attending to. It was heartbreaking, really.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before the movie we went out to eat. It was a new place to me, but J has been there a few times. It was cute. We ate &amp;nbsp;pizza and talked without interruption. I had a key lime martini-my fave. Sitting there talking was so nice. I looked across the table and realized how he was opening up about how he felt about so many things. I felt connected. It's hard to connect all of the time with Z running about. I saw my friend again. I thought, "Gosh, I really like this guy." I always like him...but I don't always understand him. The fact that he was able to communicate so well about his thoughts and feelings at this stage in his life was so refreshing and all of the confused parts of our life seemed to find a place. I saw an order. I saw the bridge between us being rebuilt. It was great. We are so into our own daily struggles, it is hard to relate to the other sometimes. It just takes some quiet time to be able to express how we are really feeling. And sometimes, it takes a break to understand it ourselves. He needs a journey, a trip. I truly believe in trips without the other. Time away to reconnect to yourself. That is so important. I hope he can carve out some time to do that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday we relaxed a bit. I finally made my dreaded trek to the grocery store--an errand I abhor. I made chili for the week. Now there is no guess work as to what to eat. Thank goodness for crock pots.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The rain is somewhat comforting. It's 50 degrees. The snow is still covering the ground...everything is so wet. You can't be but grateful that you are warm and dry. The light is on the inside today...I'm thankful for that.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-507029718652641203?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/507029718652641203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=507029718652641203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/507029718652641203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/507029718652641203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-remember-you.html' title='I remember you...'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-3880591254152372249</id><published>2012-01-21T08:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T08:53:47.264-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my youth was wasted on me, too.</title><content type='html'>There are days when I know blogging isn't the best idea. When my head is filled with shadows and ghosts and longing for days gone by really is a waste of time. I am affected by my dreams. So many don't even remember them. Mine stay with me for days. When I'm in them, I can feel, touch, smell things--and then I wake up without them and feel the loss all over again. The sun is out and it's a beautiful crisp day. I would love to be in the moment. My heart is heavy. I woke up feeling as if I'd just been there. We go through so many lifetimes. Each has it's own greatness. But, we carry ourselves full of holes into the next. Keats is so right on in Ode to a Grecian Urn. Such sweet moments frozen in time...nothing changes or loses its beauty over time. It just is--and it stays. After sweet moments are gone, they are gone. (My god, could this get &amp;nbsp;more depressing??!!) There are days when I wake up and everything is the best it's ever been. I am optimistic and bright eyed. I am thankful and looking forward. But then there are days like today--when you just miss certain times of life, certain feelings felt or just the feeling of being young and new to it all. I miss my heart bursting and stomach twirling with things I'd never felt before. I miss being wrapped up in someone--when you both have all day to just want each other. I miss times before real life responsibilities take us away from one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've posted this before, but I'll do it again. The second verse is the one I refer to most often. The language can be rough, but the meaning stays true with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ode To A Grecian Urn--John Keats&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;Sylvan historian, who canst thus express&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Of deities or mortals, or of both,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;And, happy melodist, unwearied,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;For ever piping songs for ever new;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;More happy love! more happy, happy love!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; For ever panting, and for ever young;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;All breathing human passion far above,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;Who are these coming to the sacrifice?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;To what green altar, O mysterious priest,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;What little town by river or sea shore,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;And, little town, thy streets for evermore&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Will silent be; and not a soul to tell&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Of marble men and maidens overwrought,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;With forest branches and the trodden weed;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;When old age shall this generation waste,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-3880591254152372249?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/3880591254152372249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=3880591254152372249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3880591254152372249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3880591254152372249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-youth-was-wasted-on-me-too.html' title='my youth was wasted on me, too.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-1562779527271725993</id><published>2012-01-19T11:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T11:31:58.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fitter. Happier. More Productive.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gnlNuhh3ZoU/TxhvqNdmeRI/AAAAAAAAHxs/nGmE94M-CNo/s1600/jonimitchell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gnlNuhh3ZoU/TxhvqNdmeRI/AAAAAAAAHxs/nGmE94M-CNo/s320/jonimitchell.jpg" width="238" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is a better day. My back is feeling tender, but so much stronger than it has been. I've been taking advantage and have been very productive. I can move! Been cleaning and organizing. Been sending emails to friends, catching up on IMs. I'm coming back into the world. Pain has a way of making you retract. I just want to find a rock and hide until I feel better. I moved the rock today, but I wish the sun had come out as well. &amp;nbsp;I need to get to the gym at least once this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm listening to Joni Mitchell. I dig her. She fits the mood I'm in. Hopeful. Her&amp;nbsp;voice reminds me of home, too. Kansas. Not sure why. I get homesick sometimes. Not to be in St. John really...to be back in time, I suppose. I want to be in my St. John...the one that existed in the 90s. I want to see friends I haven't seen in a while. I all want us to be young. I want our parents to be alive. I want our grandparents to be alive. I want to know what I know now though. I want to wiser with my time and with others' feelings. I want to be more focused on school and friendships. Everyone probably feels these things. It is a total waste of time. I know this. I look backward a lot. I miss things. It's not that I'm not happy now. I am. Just miss people. There isn't a day that goes by when I don't miss someone who has died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a strong feeling I'll see them again. I just really hope I am right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-1562779527271725993?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/1562779527271725993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=1562779527271725993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1562779527271725993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1562779527271725993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/fitter-happier-more-productive.html' title='Fitter. Happier. More Productive.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-gnlNuhh3ZoU/TxhvqNdmeRI/AAAAAAAAHxs/nGmE94M-CNo/s72-c/jonimitchell.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-4364697215685233732</id><published>2012-01-18T14:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T14:36:29.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a pain in the @$$</title><content type='html'>So, my back seems to be a little out. I am walking, but I look pretty funny doing it. I can't pick up Z or struggle with her in any way--which she's quickly learned (a-ha! I can get away!) . She is kissing my back a lot though, which is nice. &amp;nbsp;It started on Sunday and has been getting worse. Hmmm. It puts me in a bit of a bad mood, which sucks. The fact that it is freezing, doesn't help. You know, it's days like this when I always think how lucky I am to have my good health. I can't imagine being in pain every day. It makes me cranky...and honestly, it makes me want to lie in bed and sleep all day. (Denial??) It frustrates me that I'm not a tougher person. I have a low tolerance for pain. I hate it. It's a day where I annoy myself. So not cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are reading this in good health...be thankful. Do a sit up to celebrate. We take so much for granted. I need to kick my whiny self in the ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-4364697215685233732?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/4364697215685233732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=4364697215685233732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4364697215685233732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4364697215685233732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/im-pain-in.html' title='I&apos;m a pain in the @$$'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-5310232696888803451</id><published>2012-01-17T12:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T12:57:31.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>3:27pm</title><content type='html'>I just finished reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close--just about 4 minutes ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The journey of grief is different for everyone. You do what you have to do. You can't judge another. You can't want them to be different--you can't push them through it or push yourself. Just go through it. You have to do whatever you can to get through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think of Carrie, I think of how she would react to things I do. She keeps me honest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think of my grandparents, I think of their laughter and their ability to make you feel like the most important person in the room. That is a great way to treat people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think of Bill, I think of his smile, how he was always ready to chat about anything and how I never knew he was dealing with MS. He just enjoyed life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think of Uncle Harry, I'm just sad that I really didn't know him. That makes me try harder with others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-5310232696888803451?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/5310232696888803451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=5310232696888803451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/5310232696888803451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/5310232696888803451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/327pm.html' title='3:27pm'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-2177563934599105898</id><published>2012-01-17T11:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T11:13:24.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>tear jerker</title><content type='html'>Even if you don't like country music...this song is just so good. I just heard it for the first time today. I sat and cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/yYHT-TF4KO4/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yYHT-TF4KO4&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yYHT-TF4KO4&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Brad Paisley (Dolly Parton) - When I Get Where I'm Going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always think of my grandparents and seeing them again. Love it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-2177563934599105898?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/2177563934599105898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=2177563934599105898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2177563934599105898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2177563934599105898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/tear-jerker.html' title='tear jerker'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-6218764458521684509</id><published>2012-01-16T07:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T08:54:32.951-08:00</updated><title type='text'>all I can think about today.</title><content type='html'>Last night I had a dream that I was up in a very tall building, working...when the wind picked up and knocked it over. (9/11 anxiety dream.) I felt it falling. I knew I was going to die. I was at peace with it, but &amp;nbsp;I was very scared. I remember seeing my friends, Toni, Angie and Carolyn and kept saying over and over..."I love you." It was&amp;nbsp;terrifying. My friend Craig was also in the building, but I didn't know it. Later I found that he was in a coma in the hospital. (I assume the coma was from seeing The Descendants) &amp;nbsp;I'd seen the trailer for Extremely Loud and Incredilbly Close last night--where Sandra is looking at the WTC falling. &amp;nbsp;(That ties in the building falling) I was in love with Craig in 2001--there's that link. I always dream about Toni and Angie (they represent my life)...and Carolyn is a Chicago friend--linking my living in Chicago at the time. (At least this is my best way to break it all down...) I woke up and thought about it all for quite a while. I was single then. I do believe that if 9/11 were to have happened this year instead of in 2001, it would have had a different impact on me. I wouldn't say greater, because I was in shock when it happened. I was far away from home. I was in strange settings...in the biggest city I'd ever lived. I was living it with everyone else--glued to the tv. However, my frame of mind is just different now. Also, being 36 is different than 26. I'm more mature. I think more about other people. At 26, I was still pretty focused on myself. I may be jaded in some areas of my life, but I do feel the weight of the world's suffering more now than I ever did before. I cry more for people. I think more about people. I put myself in their shoes all of the time to try to understand what they must be going through. When Z crawled in bed with me this morning...I thought, "had I had you in 2001, I can't imagine being in that building." I can actually cry for those who lost people 10 years ago, today. I can feel the ache and the fear. I am happy that in the dream, it was more important for my friends to hear me tell them I love them than for me to hear it. I need to say it more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-6218764458521684509?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/6218764458521684509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=6218764458521684509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6218764458521684509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6218764458521684509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/10-years-later.html' title='all I can think about today.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-8505446103064939452</id><published>2012-01-15T12:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T12:22:39.725-08:00</updated><title type='text'>With the Globes, you really never know...</title><content type='html'>The format went to shit...but you get the idea. &amp;nbsp;oh well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol style="background-color: #fcfafa; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;" type="1"&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BEST MOTION PICTURE – DRAMA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE DESCENDANTS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ad Hominem Enterprises; Fox Searchlight Pictures&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111;"&gt;THE HELP &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;***I think this should get it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111;"&gt;DreamWorks Pictures, Participant Media; Touchstone Pictures&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111;"&gt;HUGO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; **I'd love this to win!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111;"&gt;Paramount Pictures presents a GK Films Production; Paramount Pictures&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE IDES OF MARCH&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Columbia Pictures, Cross Creek Pictures, Exclusive Media Group, Crystal City Entertainment; Sony Pictures Releasing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MONEYBALL&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Columbia Pictures; Sony Pictures Releasing International&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WAR HORSE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DreamWorks Pictures; Touchstone Pictures&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A MOTION PICTURE – DRAMA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GLENN CLOSE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;ALBERT NOBBS&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;VIOLA DAVIS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE HELP &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;**should win??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ROONEY MARA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MERYL STREEP&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE IRON LADY&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TILDA SWINTON&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A MOTION PICTURE – DRAMA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GEORGE CLOONEY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE DESCENDANTS&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; **hope to win&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LEONARDO DICAPRIO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;J. EDGAR&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MICHAEL FASSBENDER&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;SHAME&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;RYAN GOSLING&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE IDES OF MARCH&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BRAD PITT&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;MONEYBALL&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong style="color: #111111;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;BEST MOTION PICTURE – COMEDY OR MUSICAL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;50/50&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summit Entertainment and Mandate Pictures; Summit Entertainment&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE ARTIST&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a La Petite Reine – Studio 37 – La Classe Americaine – JD Prod- France3 Cinema – Jouror Production-uFilms coproduction; The Weinstein Company&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BRIDESMAIDS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Universal Pictures, Relativity Media, Apatow Productions; Universal Pictures&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111;"&gt;MIDNIGHT IN PARIS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;** Really want this to win!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111;"&gt;A Mediapro, Versatil Cinema &amp;amp; Gravier Production; Sony Pictures Classics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MY WEEK WITH MARILYN&lt;/strong&gt;The Weinstein Company; The Weinstein Company&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A MOTION PICTURE – COMEDY OR MUSICAL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JODIE FOSTER&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;CARNAGE&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CHARLIZE THERON&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;YOUNG ADULT&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;KRISTEN WIIG&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;BRIDESMAIDS&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MICHELLE WILLIAMS &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;**win?no idea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;MY WEEK WITH MARILYN&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;KATE WINSLET&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;CARNAGE&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A MOTION PICTURE – COMEDY OR MUSICAL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JEAN DUJARDIN&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; **thinking so...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE ARTIST&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BRENDAN GLEESON&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE GUARD&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JOSEPH GORDON-LEVITT&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;50/50&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;RYAN GOSLING&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OWEN WILSON&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;MIDNIGHT IN PARIS&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BEST ANIMATED FEATURE FILM&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111;"&gt;THE ADVENTURES OF TINTIN &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;*** YES. want to see it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111;"&gt;Paramount Pictures/Columbia Pictures/ Hemisphere Capital/Amblin Entertainment/Wingnut Films Production/ Kennedy/Marshall Production A Steven Spielberg Film; Paramount Pictures and Columbia Pictures&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ARTHUR CHRISTMAS&lt;/strong&gt;Columbia Pictures &amp;amp; Sony Pictures Animation, Aardman; Sony Pictures Releasing International&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CARS 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walt Disney Pictures, Pixar Animation Studios; Walt Disney Pictures&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PUSS IN BOOTS&lt;/strong&gt;DreamWorks Animation; Paramount Pictures&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111;"&gt;RANGO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; **though this is a fave too...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111;"&gt;Paramount Pictures and Nickelodeon Movies present A Blind Wink / GK Films Production; Paramount Pictures&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111;"&gt;BEST FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;*I have no idea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;ol style="color: #111111;" type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: -19px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: absolute;"&gt;a.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE FLOWERS OF WAR&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;(CHINA)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 5px;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Jing Ling Shi San Chai)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Pictures Film Company; Wrekin Hill Entertainment&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: -19px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: absolute;"&gt;b.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;IN THE LAND OF BLOOD AND HONEY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;(USA)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 5px;"&gt;GK Films; FilmDistrict&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: -19px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: absolute;"&gt;c.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE KID WITH A BIKE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;(BELGIUM)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 5px;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Le Gamin au Velo)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les Films du Fleuve; Sundance Selects&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: -19px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: absolute;"&gt;d.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A SEPARATION&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;(IRAN)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 5px;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Jodaeiye Nader az Simin)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asghar Farhadi; Sony Pictures Classics&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: -19px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: absolute;"&gt;e.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE SKIN I LIVE IN&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;(SPAIN)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 5px;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(La piel que habito)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El Deseo D.A., S.L.U.; Sony Pictures Classics&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE IN A MOTION PICTURE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BERENICE BEJO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE ARTIST&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JESSICA CHASTAIN&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE HELP&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JANET MCTEER&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;ALBERT NOBBS&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OCTAVIA SPENCER&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE HELP &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;**hope so!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SHAILENE WOODLEY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE DESCENDANTS&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE IN A MOTION PICTURE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;KENNETH BRANAGH&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;MY WEEK WITH MARILYN&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ALBERT BROOKS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;DRIVE&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JONAH HILL&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;MONEYBALL&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;VIGGO MORTENSEN&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;A DANGEROUS METHOD&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CHRISTOPHER PLUMMER&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;BEGINNERS&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; **really enjoyed him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;BEST DIRECTOR – MOTION PICTURE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WOODY ALLEN&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;MIDNIGHT IN PARIS &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;**would love it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GEORGE CLOONEY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE IDES OF MARCH&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MICHEL HAZANAVICIUS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE ARTIST **could be...haven't seen it&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ALEXANDER PAYNE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE DESCENDANTS&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MARTIN SCORSESE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;HUGO **would love this too.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;BEST SCREENPLAY – MOTION PICTURE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WOODY ALLEN&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;MIDNIGHT IN PARIS&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;***WANT!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GEORGE CLOONEY, HESLOV, BEAU WILLIMON&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE IDES OF MARCH&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MICHEL HAZANAVICIUS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE ARTIST&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ALEXANDER PAYNE, NAT FAXON, JIM RASH&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE DESCENDANTS&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;STAN CHERVIN&lt;br /&gt;STEVEN ZAILLIAN, AARON SORKIN&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;MONEYBALL&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A TELEVISION SERIES – DRAMA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CLAIRE DANES&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;HOMELAND &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;***WANT!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MIREILLE ENOS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE KILLING&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JULIANNA MARGULIES&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE GOOD WIFE&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MADELEINE STOWE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;REVENGE&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CALLIE THORNE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;NECESSARY ROUGHNESS&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111;"&gt;BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A TELEVISION SERIES –&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt; DRAMA *No idea, really...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol style="color: #111111;" type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;STEVE BUSCEMI&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;BOARDWALK EMPIRE&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BRYAN CRANSTON&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;BREAKING BAD&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;KELSEY GRAMMER&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;BOSS&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JEREMY IRONS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE BORGIAS&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DAMIAN LEWIS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;HOMELAND&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong style="color: #111111;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;BEST TELEVISION SERIES – COMEDY OR MUSICAL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ENLIGHTENED (HBO)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ripcord Productions in association with HBO Entertainment&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;EPISODES (SHOWTIME)&lt;/strong&gt;SHOWTIME Presents, Hat Trick Productions, Crane Klarik Productions&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GLEE (FOX)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan Murphy Television in association with Twentieth Century Fox Television&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MODERN FAMILY (ABC)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Levitan-Lloyd Productions in association with Twentieth Century Fox Television&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NEW GIRL FOX&lt;/strong&gt;Chernin Entertainment in association with Twentieth Century Fox Television&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BEST MINI-SERIES OR MOTION PICTURE MADE FOR TELEVISION&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CINEMA VERITE (HBO)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Pariah Production in association with HBO Films&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DOWNTON ABBEY (MASTERPIECE) (PBS)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Carnival/Masterpiece Co-production&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE HOUR (BBC AMERICA)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kudos Film and Television/BBC America co-production.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MILDRED PIERCE (HBO)&lt;/strong&gt;A Killer Films/John Wells Production in association with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer and HBO Miniseries&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TOO BIG TO FAIL (HBO)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Spring Creek and A Deuce Three Production in association with HBO Films&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A MINI-SERIES OR MOTION PICTURE MADE FOR TELEVISION&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ROMOLA GARAI&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE HOUR&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DIANE LANE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;CINEMA VERITE&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ELIZABETH MCGOVERN&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;DOWNTON ABBEY (MASTERPIECE)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;EMILY WATSON&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;APPROPRIATE ADULT&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;KATE WINSLET&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;MILDRED PIERCE&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A MINI-SERIES OR MOTION PICTURE MADE FOR TELEVISION&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;HUGH BONNEVILLE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;DOWNTON ABBEY (MASTERPIECE)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;IDRIS ELBA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;LUTHER&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WILLIAM HURT&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;TOO BIG TO FAIL&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BILL NIGHY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;PAGE EIGHT (MASTERPIECE)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DOMINIC WEST&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;THE HOUR&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE IN A SERIES, MINI-SERIES OR MOTION PICTURE MADE FOR TELEVISION&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;JESSICA LANGE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;AMERICAN HORROR STORY&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;KELLY MACDONALD&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;BOARDWALK EMPIRE&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MAGGIE SMITH&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;DOWNTON ABBEY (MASTERPIECE)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SOFIA VERGARA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;MODERN FAMILY&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;EVAN RACHEL WOOD&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;MILDRED PIERCE&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: decimal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 32px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #111111; text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE IN A SERIES, MINI-SERIES OR MOTION PICTURE MADE FOR TELEVISION&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol type="a"&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PETER DINKLAGE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;GAME OF THRONES&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PAUL GIAMATTI&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;TOO BIG TO FAIL&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;GUY PEARCE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;MILDRED PIERCE&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="color: #111111; float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TIM ROBBINS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;CINEMA VERITE&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="float: none; list-style-type: lower-alpha; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;ERIC STONESTREET&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="50%"&gt;MODERN FAMILY&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-8505446103064939452?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/8505446103064939452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=8505446103064939452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8505446103064939452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8505446103064939452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/with-gg-you-really-never-know.html' title='With the Globes, you really never know...'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-3784911754437471947</id><published>2012-01-13T15:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T15:56:24.675-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Andy in the garden.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HCAWhbtW1GU/TxDESaFSSCI/AAAAAAAAHxg/8aGsJdNBd2g/s1600/Andy+in+the+garden%252C+1990+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="153" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HCAWhbtW1GU/TxDESaFSSCI/AAAAAAAAHxg/8aGsJdNBd2g/s320/Andy+in+the+garden%252C+1990+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Macca painting. 1990.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visit his website for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://store.paulmccartney.com/kissesonthebottom/usd.php"&gt;paul mccartney&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-3784911754437471947?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/3784911754437471947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=3784911754437471947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3784911754437471947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3784911754437471947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/andy-in-garden.html' title='Andy in the garden.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-HCAWhbtW1GU/TxDESaFSSCI/AAAAAAAAHxg/8aGsJdNBd2g/s72-c/Andy+in+the+garden%252C+1990+%25281%2529.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-6083156613825308957</id><published>2012-01-12T10:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-12T10:03:51.444-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Clooney's face</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is better, though it is raining and gray. I was very productive this morning...after waking in the middle of the night feeling anxiety about something. That happens a lot--I will have an elephant on my chest and I just don't know what's wrong. I went to see The Descendants last night. Some of the dialogue was off to me, but I felt George Clooney was really great. His walk, his facial expressions, his entire demeanor was spot on. There are moments that I've never had--things that his character was going through and the way he was able to express them with no words made me think, "yes, that's exactly how I would feel." I really loved that. I felt light headed for him. I felt heartbroken and sick with him. It's worth seeing for his performance, alone.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dragon Tattoo was pretty intense to watch (NR rating), but I enjoyed the thrill of the mystery--and seeing Daniel Craig is perfectly fitting jeans. Lisbeth was softer, prettier in this version. I read something on Wikipedia that I found interesting:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Larsson witnessed the&amp;nbsp;gang rape&amp;nbsp;of a young girl when he was 15. He never forgave himself for failing to help the girl, whose name was Lisbeth – like the young main character of his books, herself a rape&amp;nbsp;victim, which inspired the theme of sexual violence against women in his books."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also the title of the movie was originally Men Who Hate Women in Swedish. Hmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason enjoyed it but was so affected by the two rape scenes that he struggled to sleep for the rest of the weekend. He didn't find them necessary in the film. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plan on watching Money Ball this weekend. I have some making up to do before the SAGS. Award season is shallow, sure. But, it's a mood lifter. It's a reason to sit and love or criticize. I always wanted to be a critic, but turned out critical instead.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I leave you with a quote from Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close: (This is Oskar's mind-he's 9)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"&gt;“What about little microphones? What if everyone swallowed them, and they played the sounds of our hearts through little speakers, which could be in the pouches of our overalls? When you skateboarded down the street at night you could hear everyone's heartbeat, and they could hear yours, sort of like sonar. One weird thing is, I wonder if everyone's hearts would start to beat at the same time, like how women who live together have their menstrual periods at the same time, which I know about, but don't really want to know about. That would be so weird, except that the place in the hospital where babies are born would sound like a crystal chandelier in a houseboat, because the babies wouldn't have had time to match up their heartbeats yet. And at the finish line at the end of the New York City Marathon it would sound like war.”&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"&gt;and this one...(a discussion with his therapist)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"&gt;“I feel too much. That's what's going on.' 'Do you think one can feel too much? Or just feel in the wrong ways?' 'My insides don't match up with my outsides.' 'Do anyone's insides and outsides match up?' 'I don't know. I'm only me.' 'Maybe that's what a person's personality is: the difference between the inside and outside.' 'But it's worse for me.' 'I wonder if everyone thinks it's worse for him.' 'Probably. But it really is worse for me.”&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&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/14872659-6083156613825308957?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/6083156613825308957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=6083156613825308957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6083156613825308957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6083156613825308957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/clooneys-face.html' title='Clooney&apos;s face'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-6419596400757516934</id><published>2012-01-11T11:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T13:02:46.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>putting on lipstick does help.</title><content type='html'>Today is a beautiful day. The sun is shining. There is no wind. It's not freezing. It's days like these where you wonder why there seems to be a slight pulling in your gut--downward. I am taking deep breaths and I'm going to drag myself to the gym to see if that works. Everyone goes through ups and downs. I feel like I'm just more&amp;nbsp;attune to it. It's light a warning light came on. "Check everything...make sure you fix it before you break down." Right. Sometimes I ignore warning lights--but then you end up with a flat tire or you no longer have oil in the car. When in times of a slight downward spiral--check your gauges: exercise, write something down, listening to something happy, stand in the sun, (pray if you are so inclined) or do something completely out of your&amp;nbsp;regimen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn you. Go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;update:&lt;br /&gt;about two hours later. Well, the gym did help. My earbuds broke as soon as I got there so I couldn't listen to my book. This could have sent me into an out of control fit, but it didn't. I worked out in silence. That was nice, too. I told Jason I'd like to go to the movies tonight, he seems to be cool with that. Think I'll go see The Descendants. I love to go alone to the movies. It's a good way to reset myself. That's odd, I know. My earliest memories are going to the movies--I feel very at home there. Am I escaping a bit? Yes. I don't care.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-6419596400757516934?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/6419596400757516934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=6419596400757516934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6419596400757516934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6419596400757516934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/putting-on-lipstick-to-help.html' title='putting on lipstick does help.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-2589708079739362112</id><published>2012-01-10T08:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T08:44:14.957-08:00</updated><title type='text'>starting over</title><content type='html'>I'm trying to get back on track. I went to the gym yesterday and it felt good to go. I barely broke a sweat, but I'm getting there. I get so into my book that I slow down. (Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close) I'm swept up in it. I love it. It's great to be listening/reading books again. I'd stopped. I feel like I'm ready to start getting back to life again. Z is back on a schedule. I am getting mine back as well. After Bill died, it just seemed pointless. Everything. It was such a shock to the system. But after swinging pretty low--I realize I have to pick up and go on. I have that option. Melissa doesn't. Her house is quiet when Paige is gone and it's not like anything will ever be the same for her again. I feel that if I don't start getting back into normalcy again, it will bleed onto Z and I don't want that. I was sluggish and always tired...blue. I will say that going back to the gym has helped with the sluggishness already. It's such a mental struggle to get from my door to the gym's door...but once I'm there, I'm golden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading this book is also so good for me. It deals with loss and also with finding your way again. I've been so into the autobiographies--I needed an escape. I suppose this is historical fiction. It deals with 9/11 and the loss of his father. His way of thinking really challenges my way of thinking. I need that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been looking into a Sedona, AZ get away. Maybe I could get some women to go with me. It's just a weekend retreat--3 days of spiritual rejuvenation. I just need something. Ideally, I'd love to have an Eat, Pray, Love year (minus the new love interest)--but that's not going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;This is what I found, but maybe there is something else better... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://sedonasouladventures.com/spiritual-retreats/?mm_campaign=9d5fa470a5b141423ef1b9673c991a87&amp;amp;mm_replace=TRUE&amp;amp;gclid=CI7BkLbxxa0CFYbe4AodQCm-jA"&gt;Sedona Retreat&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think of complete bliss--restoring my inner peace--I think of a trip to Morocco. Just riding a camel deep into the desert and spending the night amongst the nothingness. Until then, I'll just keep going to the gym. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P6P2zebiyWQ/TwxquflPAOI/AAAAAAAAHxY/QoxIP6z_TF0/s1600/p69166-Morocco-Shadow_Camels.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P6P2zebiyWQ/TwxquflPAOI/AAAAAAAAHxY/QoxIP6z_TF0/s320/p69166-Morocco-Shadow_Camels.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-2589708079739362112?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/2589708079739362112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=2589708079739362112' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2589708079739362112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2589708079739362112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/into-great-wide-open.html' title='starting over'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-P6P2zebiyWQ/TwxquflPAOI/AAAAAAAAHxY/QoxIP6z_TF0/s72-c/p69166-Morocco-Shadow_Camels.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-4225751706316623734</id><published>2012-01-09T13:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T14:05:51.595-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a wonderland</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/A4AnHAwHQB4/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/A4AnHAwHQB4&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/A4AnHAwHQB4&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-4225751706316623734?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/4225751706316623734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=4225751706316623734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4225751706316623734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4225751706316623734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/good-reminder.html' title='a wonderland'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-6376353426973781400</id><published>2012-01-08T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T15:50:36.724-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Harry and Sally finally got together--then what??</title><content type='html'>I have a hard time being vulnerable. Sometimes it is hard for me to be sweet. However, I think sweet and loving thoughts all of the time--it's just hard portraying that.&amp;nbsp; I want to be in control at all times. This is hard when you are married. I'm coming to terms with a lot lately. Vulnerability is needed in a relationship in order feel close to someone. I used to be great at it. I was lovey dovey gross when I was younger. That's what life can do..it can harden you. As you go from hurt to hurt starting in your teen years, it becomes easy to be jaded and want to self preserve. I'm working on it. It can also do with childhood. The fear of abandonment is something so many of us deal with being a part of the divorce craze of the 80s. I'm sure there was a divorce craze of the 70s as well, and so on. And now divorce is just part of marriage it seems. It's sad. Marriage is hard. I struggle with it. I married a good person, that helps. He is human and has his own struggles. Man, when you put together our baggage...it's really too heavy sometimes. I'm trying to take responsibility. Romantic movies just get you to the point where the two end up together--uh, then what??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-6376353426973781400?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/6376353426973781400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=6376353426973781400' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6376353426973781400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6376353426973781400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/harry-and-sally-finally-got-together.html' title='Harry and Sally finally got together--then what??'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-4054972308381641906</id><published>2012-01-06T14:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-06T14:15:29.122-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i am still surprised, though.</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out the real reason for growing up&lt;br /&gt;was to learn what to do with suffering.&lt;br /&gt;Not being surprised was the answer.&lt;br /&gt;- — Tony Hoagland, from his poem &lt;i&gt;Powers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I stole this from my friend Reva's blog.) So good, I had to re-post. Her blog (which is truly great) is : &lt;a href="http://revawilliams.tumblr.com/"&gt;http://revawilliams.tumblr.com/&lt;/a&gt; She is fantastic. enjoy it.&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="goog_629006325"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="goog_629006326"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-4054972308381641906?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/4054972308381641906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=4054972308381641906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4054972308381641906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4054972308381641906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/turns-out-real-reason-for-growing-up.html' title='i am still surprised, though.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-9094869573034059615</id><published>2012-01-06T11:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-06T11:45:28.169-08:00</updated><title type='text'>tonight</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ReUTvbKk9Ac/TwdO7KNudFI/AAAAAAAAHxA/rhteeWSLv5o/s1600/-tattoo_400x416.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ReUTvbKk9Ac/TwdO7KNudFI/AAAAAAAAHxA/rhteeWSLv5o/s320/-tattoo_400x416.jpg" width="307" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got a sitter and tonight's the night. Jason will be disturbed--he hasn't read the book or seen the original film. Should be interesting...he's not big on violence. It has an NR rating. hmm. I've only heard great reviews. More tomorrow. Can't wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-9094869573034059615?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/9094869573034059615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=9094869573034059615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/9094869573034059615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/9094869573034059615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/tonight.html' title='tonight'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-ReUTvbKk9Ac/TwdO7KNudFI/AAAAAAAAHxA/rhteeWSLv5o/s72-c/-tattoo_400x416.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-4968910559587327258</id><published>2012-01-05T12:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:24:40.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Heading out now.</title><content type='html'>My only goal today is to go the gym. Z hasn't been to daycare in about three months. She needs to have some socialization and I need to up my heart rate. I think we both have anxiety about it. Jason tried to take her a few weeks ago and she flipped her lid. He took her home without working out. Today, I've been talking to her about it all day..."you are going to see your friends today!" To encourage myself to go, I've downloaded Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. I need to get caught up in a book to motivate the cold drive and even colder walk to the gym doors. I haven't gone since Bill and Lynn died. It's almost as if I've decided to start back to my life again. I need to start having a regimen again. I packed the diaper bag (I haven't had one in a long time) and made a date with a fellow mom in order to keep myself honest. Does this seem like a lot of mental effort to you?? Me, too.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I'm excited to listen to the book. I'm excited to get Z back into a routine. I'm excited to feel good about working out again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow night I got a sitter. This is great news. J and I will go see a movie!! Now...which? This is the big question. There are a lot out there to see. I'm thinking it will be The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I read the book and saw the Swedish film. It won't be Jason's type of film, but he'll go. He's still scarred from my decision to go see Hugo--which is EXCELLENT! He fell asleep and thought it was horribly slow--but this is only to the untrained eye. ha! It's a great movie and I recommend it wholeheartedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to getting back to a routine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-4968910559587327258?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/4968910559587327258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=4968910559587327258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4968910559587327258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4968910559587327258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/heading-out-now.html' title='Heading out now.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-424347761905632747</id><published>2012-01-04T09:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T09:08:34.084-08:00</updated><title type='text'>at 12:03pm</title><content type='html'>I never quite get over the feeling of wanting to be someone else. Or rather, have a different look. I have an identity problem. I almost want to re-create myself with a certain haircut, hair color, funky clothes, eclectic decor--Will I ever get over this? I see a woman and think--there! THAT'S who I want to be! I've never been satisfied with the me that I am. I feel boring, simple and forgettable. Yet, I have a lot of friends...hmm. We all have demons. This is (one of) mine. This is my wish for myself over almost all others--to be happy with who I am, to feel content in my skin and know that I am the person I want to be. Until then, it's so tiresome to feel this way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-424347761905632747?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/424347761905632747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=424347761905632747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/424347761905632747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/424347761905632747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-never-quite-get-over-feeling-of.html' title='at 12:03pm'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-842456465727047093</id><published>2012-01-04T07:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T08:24:56.265-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bring it.</title><content type='html'>I just had an hour long battle of wills with Z. She hates changing her diaper and it's become a daily back and forth of time out and screaming. We are working on potty training, but until she masters that, I'm afraid the quiet sweet days of baby are over. I have to smile...she is very stubborn. Wow. She learns from the best. My grandparents loved to tell the story of me sitting with green beans in my mouth for an hour at the table after refusing to eat them. (Gross.) I lost that battle. But, I wont the one this morning and soon Z will learn that Jason may be a softy, but I'm certainly not. (He really is...it's awful. But, he will have payback one day.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UunN1pQw02M/TwRye6YaezI/AAAAAAAAHws/utOfIa3MiKU/s1600/IMGP0584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UunN1pQw02M/TwRye6YaezI/AAAAAAAAHws/utOfIa3MiKU/s320/IMGP0584.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vNqBHnqdiVw/TwRzJI5SJ1I/AAAAAAAAHw4/53sm3Y9ZjD8/s1600/IMGP0576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vNqBHnqdiVw/TwRzJI5SJ1I/AAAAAAAAHw4/53sm3Y9ZjD8/s320/IMGP0576.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(this is our backyard when it really snows...how peaceful.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;There is snow on the ground. As I take down the rest of the decorations today, I'm happy that there is a bit of pretty outside. This stretch of cold without a holiday to look forward to is brutal. I do have visitors coming though. Mom will come at the beginning of Feb for a bit. We're taking the play writing class together. Dustin will come for the Oscars--as he does each year. When Z gets older, I'm hoping to venture to Chicago to celebrate that weekend, but for now...he's pretty good about always coming here. New York is beautiful in the winter, but it is difficult to persuade many to come visit in the cold. We try to keep it as warm as possible indoors with good food, good movies and a fire each night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;But, if it's going to snow...and we don't have anywhere to go--let it REALLY snow. Give us something to watch and play in when it quits. I'm ready. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hZLfscbN6GQ/TwRxT0_mwSI/AAAAAAAAHwg/YQUDASVQS78/s1600/IMGP0616.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hZLfscbN6GQ/TwRxT0_mwSI/AAAAAAAAHwg/YQUDASVQS78/s320/IMGP0616.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Gosh, look how little...and quiet she looks. This was two years ago. So much snow, so much sweetness...ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-842456465727047093?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/842456465727047093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=842456465727047093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/842456465727047093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/842456465727047093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/bring-it.html' title='Bring it.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-UunN1pQw02M/TwRye6YaezI/AAAAAAAAHws/utOfIa3MiKU/s72-c/IMGP0584.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-2353650236552076553</id><published>2012-01-02T06:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T06:10:13.468-08:00</updated><title type='text'>it will get easier.</title><content type='html'>The new year finds many lonely. Some relish the new start. Some dread another year of feeling the way they do. It can be horribly daunting. I've been there. I don't feel that way anymore, but the scars are still there. I can remember the feeling of spending my days trying to think of anything happy. I couldn't. I was in a downward spiral. I hated myself. I hated the fact that everyone seemed to move through life with such ease. I felt deeper, more connected to the earth. I felt as if I saw a different world than everyone else...and everyone else was shallow and ignorant. However, after literally years of feeling this way, trying to remedy myself with new lovers, new friends, new cities and new jobs--I realized that I had to do something else. I'm addicted to change. Always have been. I love to see new places, buy new clothes, color my hair, change my style, rearrange furniture, try new recipes...there is something that calms me about it. Or, it's because I'm not dealing with what's really going on inside and I want to see change somewhere...anywhere. When people told me that happiness was a choice, I became angry. I didn't see the choice. When you are so depressed and everything is dark, there is no choice. All roads point nowhere. No one will understand. I know. However...there may come a day when wearing the heavy cloak weighing down every move gets to be too much. I didn't want to feel that way. I'd been a victim for so long. I started to see people looking at me differently. The fun was elsewhere. I'd rejected the invitations so long, they stopped coming. I stopped living well. (Because you can live...but it's not really living.) I stopped being a good friend. I stopped being a good person, really. And, there was no "reason" for me to be this way. At least, I felt that way. Yes, I'd lost friends to death and to life, but I didn't have a husband die, I didn't lose a child, I had my health. I know I have friends going through horribly tough times and seeing the new year as HAPPY isn't an option right now. I can only hope your inner light slowly starts to burn brighter--even when the weather continues to grow colder. Because I've gone through such turmoil, I sometimes feel responsible for leading people to the light. I know that it doesn't work. I know Melissa has lonely nights...that she sits by herself in her house missing Bill and Lynn and everything seems pointless. I read her FB posts the next morning and feel awful for not going over. I feel guilty and that somehow it's my fault. Recovering depressants can take on ALL types of guilt and sadness---it's like alcohol...we can seek it out and it pulls us in. I have to tell myself that it's okay. She is moving through stages and sometimes, she has to go through them alone. I pulled people into mine and when I moved out of that stage...the person reminded me of things I didn't want any part of. I associate people and places with my depression--hence my addiction to relocation. If you are suffering...know that it won't always feel this way. If you know someone who is suffering...you can only do so much. These winter days are gloomy and so hard. But know...the sun and warmth is coming. It may never feel as warm or seem as bright, but they will return and you will too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hang on.&lt;br /&gt;Go for a walk. (this was really something I struggled to do, but it seemed always help.)&lt;br /&gt;Listen to happy music.&lt;br /&gt;Dance around. (some of this sounds so damn trite, but you literally have to pull yourself out of things)&lt;br /&gt;Write. Just purge...it helps.&lt;br /&gt;Limit the crying. Allowing for 10 minutes and then move on. I cried so hard for so long that now when I shed one single tear, I'm exhausted for the rest of the day. I literally ruined the release.&lt;br /&gt;Take a shower, put make up on, get out of your pajamas.&lt;br /&gt;Clean.&lt;br /&gt;Go to the movies. Anything to get out of the house for a bit.&lt;br /&gt;Hell, shop if you need to...just don't go overboard.&lt;br /&gt;Exercise. (this one really pissed me off if anyone mentioned, but again, it helped.)&lt;br /&gt;Find books to read. "Journal of a Solitude" by May Sarton saved my life. I highlighted, underlined and felt so much better knowing I wasn't alone in my feelings. I can't recommend this book enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a quote from May that really helped me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;“Does anything in nature despair except man? An animal with a foot caught in a trap does not seem to despair. It is too busy trying to survive. It is a ll closed in, to a kind of still, intense waiting. Is this a key? Keep busy with survival. Imitate the trees. Learn to lose in order to recover, and remember that nothing stays the same for long, not even pain, psychic pain. Sit it out. Let it all pass. Let it go. ”    &lt;br /&gt; ―      &lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13166.May_Sarton"&gt;May Sarton&lt;/a&gt;,        &lt;i&gt;      &lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/579617"&gt;Journal of a Solitude&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-2353650236552076553?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/2353650236552076553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=2353650236552076553' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2353650236552076553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2353650236552076553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/life-is-pain-highness-anyone-who-says.html' title='it will get easier.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-8099199502594055286</id><published>2012-01-01T16:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T16:20:32.091-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://0.gvt0.com/vi/aSq1cez_flQ/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aSq1cez_flQ&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aSq1cez_flQ&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I posted this on FB already, but it is too adorable. Wanted it for my blog. It makes me happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-8099199502594055286?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/8099199502594055286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=8099199502594055286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8099199502594055286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8099199502594055286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-posted-this-on-fb-already-but-it-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-3987593512047654248</id><published>2012-01-01T16:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T16:17:08.104-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Air Sick</title><content type='html'>On my way home from FL (where I spent Christmas), I only found an air sickness bag to write on...but I wrote down my wish list for the new year anyway. Each year I try to write down my goals and see how close I get. This is what it reads:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-cut down cable (get rid of HBO and SHO, spend less time watching TV)&lt;br /&gt;-read more.&lt;br /&gt;-get back to the gym.&lt;br /&gt;-take clothes and toys to GoodWill&lt;br /&gt;-take a play writing class.&lt;br /&gt;-calm down&lt;br /&gt;-coupon shop&lt;br /&gt;-plan meals, shop with a list&lt;br /&gt;-drink more water&lt;br /&gt;-try kale&lt;br /&gt;-have a set date night&lt;br /&gt;-find dad's birth parents&lt;br /&gt;-organize junk drawers&lt;br /&gt;-learn to meditate&lt;br /&gt;-blog more&lt;br /&gt;-go to France&lt;br /&gt;-create z's scrapbook--or at least organize into boxes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will see. I'm not crafty. I'm also not so fond of water. I need to drink less Diet Coke. I really love Diet Coke.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a mirror image of my puke bag goals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eXqYzrbdBWQ/TwD3Tm2o_qI/AAAAAAAAHwU/4hNjkyRldCg/s1600/Photo+on+2012-01-01+at+19.14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eXqYzrbdBWQ/TwD3Tm2o_qI/AAAAAAAAHwU/4hNjkyRldCg/s320/Photo+on+2012-01-01+at+19.14.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-3987593512047654248?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/3987593512047654248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=3987593512047654248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3987593512047654248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3987593512047654248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2012/01/air-sick.html' title='Air Sick'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-eXqYzrbdBWQ/TwD3Tm2o_qI/AAAAAAAAHwU/4hNjkyRldCg/s72-c/Photo+on+2012-01-01+at+19.14.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-1152811340669860760</id><published>2011-12-31T13:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T13:49:22.616-08:00</updated><title type='text'>for 2012</title><content type='html'>I hope it's an easier year. I hope I get better at many things...cooking, friendship, focus, blogging, writing, mothering, romance and playing Scrabble. Let it be a year of insight. Let it be one with no tragedies. Let it help people mend...and grow. Let it be one where I feel more at peace with myself...and with others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big wishes. But, I am very hopeful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-1152811340669860760?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/1152811340669860760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=1152811340669860760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1152811340669860760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1152811340669860760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/12/for-2012.html' title='for 2012'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-6427131182488657137</id><published>2011-12-23T09:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-23T09:46:24.580-08:00</updated><title type='text'>From me to you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S-NvR4z5WTk/TvS-CgGdMLI/AAAAAAAAHvk/D5eD1oC8KKk/s1600/faith_hope_love_by_godreigns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S-NvR4z5WTk/TvS-CgGdMLI/AAAAAAAAHvk/D5eD1oC8KKk/s320/faith_hope_love_by_godreigns.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do wish you a silent night.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you laughter that makes your face hurt.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you a moment of sitting back and being so happy at what you see.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you smells of good food and sounds of good music.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you warmth--either by a blanket, a fire or a body.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you being at peace at your decisions.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you the ability to let past hurts go.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you infinite positivity and feelings of a hope. &lt;br /&gt;I wish you the strength to pull yourself out of old regret.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you the courage to talk about issues if you are having any.&lt;br /&gt;I hope you value yourself and that your life reflects that.&lt;br /&gt; I hope you tell people if you love them and not hoping they just know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't know what will happen. You don't know when you won't be able to do something you thinkg you will always be able to do. Life is hard, but it is what you make of it--it's how you see it and how you let it affect you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you inner light and as much hope for a good future as you can possibly muster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in case you need it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/0k_Vsmqf6X8/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0k_Vsmqf6X8&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0k_Vsmqf6X8&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-6427131182488657137?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/6427131182488657137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=6427131182488657137' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6427131182488657137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6427131182488657137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/12/blog-post_23.html' title='From me to you.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-S-NvR4z5WTk/TvS-CgGdMLI/AAAAAAAAHvk/D5eD1oC8KKk/s72-c/faith_hope_love_by_godreigns.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-1920009202451300778</id><published>2011-12-20T13:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T13:11:51.335-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i wish you a silent night</title><content type='html'>Z woke up at 3AM this morning and wanted cookies and milk...and to sing Jingle Bells and look at the tree. Had this been Christmas eve, I would have thought it adorable... Today we are all dragging. Jason was already up working in the loft and came down to help entertain her. She finally went back to bed at 4ish. Today, she is totally fine...Jason and I are dragging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight it is my goal to order all of my outgoing gifts and have that pressure relieved. Isn't that an awful way of seeing it? When bedtime is over, I normally want to plant myself on the couch, play Words with Friends and watch whatever is on the DVR. But, I will do my best to be productive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too tired to write anything very substantial, I do want to share some Christmas music that I've been enjoying. These albums are at the top of my list this season...and if you are on Spotify...you can listen to them. (I wish everyone was on Spotify...it's addicting)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snow Angels by Over the Rhine&lt;br /&gt;A Very She and Him Christmas by She and Him&lt;br /&gt;When My Heart Finds Christmas by Harry Connick Jr. (love it every year)&lt;br /&gt;A Christmas Album by Barbra Streisand (1967)&lt;br /&gt;Noel by Josh Groban &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to like Michael Buble's Christmas album...but don't. But let's not be negative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;join Spotify- it's free. (Esp you, Stacey! I wanted to send you a Josh song today...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-1920009202451300778?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/1920009202451300778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=1920009202451300778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1920009202451300778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1920009202451300778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-wish-you-silent-night.html' title='i wish you a silent night'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-3436063697472752494</id><published>2011-12-20T08:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T13:12:27.545-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y793N3H0Z0M/TvC0qUOjT0I/AAAAAAAAHvY/_KxRhMiOBXQ/s1600/cartoon_beatle_santas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y793N3H0Z0M/TvC0qUOjT0I/AAAAAAAAHvY/_KxRhMiOBXQ/s320/cartoon_beatle_santas.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could send these out as my holiday cards, I would.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-3436063697472752494?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/3436063697472752494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=3436063697472752494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3436063697472752494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3436063697472752494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/12/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-Y793N3H0Z0M/TvC0qUOjT0I/AAAAAAAAHvY/_KxRhMiOBXQ/s72-c/cartoon_beatle_santas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-2093590744092728083</id><published>2011-12-19T09:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-19T09:59:24.412-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Jeers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ywKgMDqIjnA/Tu97acGRkjI/AAAAAAAAHvQ/61PzOiyPFzk/s1600/funny%252Chumour%252Cquotes-740dab0db4e00157a8c52197a5db2981_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="224" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ywKgMDqIjnA/Tu97acGRkjI/AAAAAAAAHvQ/61PzOiyPFzk/s320/funny%252Chumour%252Cquotes-740dab0db4e00157a8c52197a5db2981_h.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas is Sunday. Have I bought a single gift? No. Do I feel like it's even close? No. Yet, I have the holiday stress...my chest is caving in (most likely due to no presents being bought) and I feel sad that I'm not more lit from the inside. I've been vacuuming until the panic subsides. Vacuuming is actually a great stress reliever for me. Odd? It's productive and it's shows an immediate result. I think I just need to take a deep breath, drink some eggnog, put on some happy music and start a gift list. Should I have done this 2 weeks ago? Possibly. Yet, I didn't and there must be a reason. Z is still pretty unaware of gifts and such. We're not getting her anything...her grandparents and aunties will get her enough. We already have to sort through old stuff for Good Will as it is. She is fortunate. We are fortunate. The stress of getting the perfect gift is what really puts me off, I think. I want someone to really appreciate it or need it. As adults, we normally get what we need, right? So, what do I give? Food. Why not? Makes people happy. It doesn't add to their pile of gifts they've already forgotten about and it's not something they'd get for themselves. When I was a kid, presents were what the holiday was about. As an adult, the presents just aren't it for me. Spending time together, cooking, baking, relaxing, playing games, reflecting, decompressing and doing some self evaluating. I didn't mention the obvious, Jesus. To me, the birthday of Jesus represents the birth of a great example of how man should be. He is the goodness and happiness that surrounds the holiday. We aren't religious and we don't go to church, but I understand what the holiday is about...at least how it rings true for me. I wish it were a time when we focused on bettering ourselves and being kinder to one another. The presents and stress of all of the materialistic crap really puts a damper on things. It seems to be a time of year that amplifies family hurts and woes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, I need to do more vacuuming today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-2093590744092728083?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/2093590744092728083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=2093590744092728083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2093590744092728083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2093590744092728083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/12/holiday-jeers.html' title='Holiday Jeers'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-ywKgMDqIjnA/Tu97acGRkjI/AAAAAAAAHvQ/61PzOiyPFzk/s72-c/funny%252Chumour%252Cquotes-740dab0db4e00157a8c52197a5db2981_h.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-1203367706955319901</id><published>2011-12-18T08:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-18T09:11:40.975-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://0.gvt0.com/vi/HjwWY-goyZQ/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HjwWY-goyZQ&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HjwWY-goyZQ&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-1203367706955319901?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/1203367706955319901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=1203367706955319901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1203367706955319901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1203367706955319901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/12/best-performances-of-decade.html' title=''/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-5716450724792048382</id><published>2011-12-16T08:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T08:50:37.138-08:00</updated><title type='text'>'tis the season to blow money.</title><content type='html'>I found a play writing class. It's for 6 weeks and by the end, I will have a 10 minute play completed. I've been trying to think of what to write about. 10 minutes? That seems like a scene to me, not an entire play. I'll find some online to read.&lt;br /&gt;The roofers are here. They are replacing another part of the roof--that's the 3rd part since we moved in two years ago. And...the dishwasher started pouring water all over the floor this morning. grand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Friday and I wish I had a babysitter tonight. I'd love to go the movies. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is out. The Swedish film was good, I thought. I can't imagine how they'll make it here...it's horribly violent and dark. There are too many movies to see. If you are single, if you have a sitter, if your kids are grown...make a night of it! Do it for all of us who can't at this point. Eat out. See movies. Get massages. Just indulge.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-5716450724792048382?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/5716450724792048382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=5716450724792048382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/5716450724792048382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/5716450724792048382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/12/tis-season-to-blow-money.html' title='&apos;tis the season to blow money.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-8992307027970864194</id><published>2011-12-16T07:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T07:33:01.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What a dreamboat.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://1.gvt0.com/vi/IpgR_zp_lH0/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IpgR_zp_lH0&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IpgR_zp_lH0&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ciframe%20width=%22480%22%20height=%22360%22%20src=%22http://www.youtube.com/embed/ozMOyQWMCss%22%20frameborder=%220%22%20allowfullscreen%3E%3C/iframe%3E"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ciframe%20width=%22480%22%20height=%22360%22%20src=%22http://www.youtube.com/embed/ozMOyQWMCss%22%20frameborder=%220%22%20allowfullscreen%3E%3C/iframe%3E"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song is stuck in my head. It makes me happy. Enjoy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-8992307027970864194?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/8992307027970864194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=8992307027970864194' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8992307027970864194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8992307027970864194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/12/what-dreamboat.html' title='What a dreamboat.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-3141811032539346342</id><published>2011-12-15T08:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-15T08:36:33.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Globe noms</title><content type='html'>&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;The nominations were announced this morning and I realized...I've got a lot to see. Shoot. I will say that Midnight in Paris is one of my favorite movies-ever. I loved the message. I loved the ideas and I loved how true it is. Bridesmaids made me cringe and laugh. Crazy, Stupid, Love was very sweet and I own it. Ryan Gosling is just...&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;I loved Hugo. I cried and felt sick watching The Help. Beginners was endearing and heartbreaking.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;Modern Family ALWAYS makes me laugh. Mildred Pierce was riveting. Jason and I couldn't tear ourselves away from watching it. Cinema Verite was weird...just an odd film. Glee makes me happy. The Good Wife makes me think. I never miss American Horror Story, but I don't know why. It is twisted, awful, disturbing and makes J and I angry every week--but we always watch it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;I see our budget taking a dive as I figure out how many of these I need to see.&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;January 15. NBC. I will be on my couch.&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Motion Picture — Drama&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Descendants"&lt;br /&gt;"The Help"&lt;br /&gt;"Hugo"&lt;br /&gt;"The Ides of March"&lt;br /&gt;"Moneyball"&lt;br /&gt;"War Horse"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture — Drama&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glenn Close, "Albert Nobbs"&lt;br /&gt;Viola Davis, "The Help"&lt;br /&gt;Rooney Mara, "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo&lt;br /&gt;Meryl Streep, "The Iron Lady"&lt;br /&gt;Tilda Swinton, "We Need to Talk About Kevin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture — Drama&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George Clooney, "The Descendants"&lt;br /&gt;Leonardo DiCaprio, "J. Edgar"&lt;br /&gt;Michael Fassbender, "Shame&lt;br /&gt;Ryan Gosling, "The Ides of March"&lt;br /&gt;Brad Pitt, "Moneyball"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Motion Picture — Comedy or Musical&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"50/50"&lt;br /&gt;"The Artist"&lt;br /&gt;"Bridesmaids"&lt;br /&gt;"Midnight in Paris"&lt;br /&gt;"My Week With Marilyn"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture — Comedy or Musical&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jodie Foster, "Carnage&lt;br /&gt;Charlize theron, "Young Adult"&lt;br /&gt;Kristen Wiig, "Bridesmaids"&lt;br /&gt;Michelle Williams, "My Week With Marilyn"&lt;br /&gt;Kate Winslet, "Carnage"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture — Comedyor musical&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jean Dujardin, "The Artist&lt;br /&gt;Brendan Gleeson, "The Guard"&lt;br /&gt;Joseph Gordon-Levitt, "50/50"&lt;br /&gt;Ryan Gosling, "Crazy, Stupid, Love."&lt;br /&gt;Owen Wilson, "Midnight in Paris"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Animated Feature Film&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Adventures of Tintin"&lt;br /&gt;"Arthur Christmas"&lt;br /&gt;"Cars 2"&lt;br /&gt;"Puss in Boots"&lt;br /&gt;"Rango"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Foreign Language Film&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Flowers of War" (China) &lt;br /&gt;"In the Land of Blood and Honey" (USA)&lt;br /&gt;"The Kid With a Bike" (Belgium)&lt;br /&gt;"A Separation" (Iran)&lt;br /&gt;"The Skin I Live In" (Spain)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role in a Motion Picture&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Berenice Bejo, "The Artist"&lt;br /&gt;Jessica Chastain, "The Help"&lt;br /&gt;Janet McTeer, "Albert Nobbs"&lt;br /&gt;Octavia Spencer, "The Help"&lt;br /&gt;Shailene Woodley, "The Descendants"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role in a Motion Picture&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenneth Branagh, "My Week with Marilyn"&lt;br /&gt;Albert Brooks, "Drive"&lt;br /&gt;Jonah Hill, "Moneyball"&lt;br /&gt;Viggo Mortensen, "A Dangerous Method"&lt;br /&gt;Christopher Plummer, "Beginners"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Director — Motion Picture&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woody Allen, "Midnight in Paris"&lt;br /&gt;George Clooney, "The Ides of March"&lt;br /&gt;Michel Hazanavicius, "The Artist"&lt;br /&gt;Alexander Payne, "The Descendants"&lt;br /&gt;Martin Scorsese, "Hugo"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Screenplay — Motion Picture&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woody Allen, "Midnight in Paris"&lt;br /&gt;George Clooney, Grant Heslov, Beau Willimon - "The Ides of March"&lt;br /&gt;Michel Hazanavicius - "The Artist"&lt;br /&gt;Alexander Payne, Nat Faxon, Jim Rash - "The Descendants"&lt;br /&gt;Steven Zaillian, Aaron Sorkin - "Moneyball"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Original Score — Motion Picture&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ludovic Bource - "The Artist"&lt;br /&gt;Abel Korzeniowski - "W.E."&lt;br /&gt;Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross - "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo"&lt;br /&gt;Howard Shore - "Hugo"&lt;br /&gt;John Williams - "War Horse"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Original Song — Motion Picture&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello Hello" — "Gnomeo &amp;amp; Juliet," music by Elton John, lyrics by Bernie Taupin&lt;br /&gt;"The Keeper"— "Machine Gun Preacher," music and lyrics by Chris Cornell&lt;br /&gt;"Lay Your Head Down" — "Albert Nobbs," music by Brian Byrne, lyrics by Glenn Close&lt;br /&gt;"The Living Proof" — "The Help"; music by Mary J. Blige, Thomas Newman, Harvey Mason Jr.; lyrics by Mary J. Blige, Harvey Mason Jr., Damon Thomas&lt;br /&gt;"Masterpiece" — W.E., music and lyrics by Madonna, Julie Frost, Jimmy Harry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Television Series — Drama&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"American Horror Story"&lt;br /&gt;"Boardwalk Empire"&lt;br /&gt;"Boss"&lt;br /&gt;"Game of Thrones"&lt;br /&gt;"Homeland"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Performance by an Actress in a Television Series — Drama&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Claire Danes, "Homeland"&lt;br /&gt;Mireille Enos, "The Killing"&lt;br /&gt;Julianna Margulies, "The Good Wife"&lt;br /&gt;Madeleine Stowe, "Revenge"&lt;br /&gt;Callie Thorne, "Necessary Roughness"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Performance by an Actor in a Television Series — Drama&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve Buscemi, "Boardwalk Empire"&lt;br /&gt;Bryan Cranston, "Breaking Bad"&lt;br /&gt;Kelsey Grammer, "Boss"&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy Irons, "The Borgias"&lt;br /&gt;Damian Lewis, "Homeland"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Television Series — Comedy or Musical&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Enlightened"&lt;br /&gt;"Episodes"&lt;br /&gt;"Glee"&lt;br /&gt;"Modern "Family"&lt;br /&gt;"New Girl"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Performance by an Actress in a Television Series — Comedy or Musical&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laura Dern, "Enlightened"&lt;br /&gt;Zooey Deschanel, "New Girl"&lt;br /&gt;Tina Fey, "30 Rock"&lt;br /&gt;Laura Linney, "The Big C"&lt;br /&gt;Amy Poehler, "Parks and Recreation"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Performance by an Actor in a Television Series — Comedy or Musical&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alec Baldwin, "30 Rock"&lt;br /&gt;David Duchovny, "Californication"&lt;br /&gt;Johnny Galecki, "The Big Bang Theory"&lt;br /&gt;Thomas Jane, "Hung"&lt;br /&gt;Matt LeBlanc, "Episodes"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Mini-Series or Motion Picture Made for Television Cinema Verite&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Downton Abbey"&lt;br /&gt;"The Hour"&lt;br /&gt;"Mildred Pierce"&lt;br /&gt;"Too Big to Fail"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Performance by an Actress in a Mini-Series or Motion Picture Made for Television&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romola Garai, "The Hour"&lt;br /&gt;Diane Lane, "Cinema Verite"&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth McGovern, "Downton Abbey" (Masterpiece)&lt;br /&gt;Emily Watson, "Appropriate Adult"&lt;br /&gt;Kate Winslet, "Mildred Pierce"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Performance by an Actor in a Mini-Series or Motion Picture Made for Television&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hugh Bonneville, "Downtown Abbey" (Masterpiece)&lt;br /&gt;Idris Elba, "Luther"&lt;br /&gt;William Hurt, "Too Big to Fail"&lt;br /&gt;Bill Nighy, "Page Eight" (Masterpiece)&lt;br /&gt;Dominic West, "The Hour"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role in a Series, Mini-Series or Motion Picture Made for Television&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jessica Lange, "American Horror Story"&lt;br /&gt;Kelly MacDonald, "Boardwalk Empire"&lt;br /&gt;Maggie Smith, "Downtown Abbey" (Masterpiece)&lt;br /&gt;Sofia Vergara, "Modern Family"&lt;br /&gt;Evan Rachel Wood, "Mildred Pierce"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role in a Series, Mini-Series or Motion Picture Made for Television&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter Dinklage, "Game of Thrones"&lt;br /&gt;Paul Giamatti, "Too Big to Fail"&lt;br /&gt;Guy Pearce, "Mildred Pierce"&lt;br /&gt;Tim Robbins, "Cinema Verite"&lt;br /&gt;Eric Stonestreet, "Modern Family"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-3141811032539346342?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/3141811032539346342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=3141811032539346342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3141811032539346342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3141811032539346342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/12/globe-noms.html' title='Globe noms'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-4594035840423388464</id><published>2011-12-14T15:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-14T15:06:58.271-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sugar plum fairies danced on my head.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sN312h0TJF8/Tukr7rb9e9I/AAAAAAAAHu8/MQdZzoG8WtA/s1600/nutcracker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="178" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sN312h0TJF8/Tukr7rb9e9I/AAAAAAAAHu8/MQdZzoG8WtA/s320/nutcracker.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g8pB-nsLeKs/Tukr8KP906I/AAAAAAAAHvE/qK8lsgWv4mY/s1600/nyc-ballet-the-nutcracker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g8pB-nsLeKs/Tukr8KP906I/AAAAAAAAHvE/qK8lsgWv4mY/s320/nyc-ballet-the-nutcracker.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I went to see The Nutcracker performed by the New York City Ballet. It was broadcasted live from Lincoln Center. I sat in my $15 seat...a bargain as the seats in NYC can run you $150. I had a view from the stage. It was beautiful. I loved every minute. Next to me there was a line of little ballerinas from a troop here in town. They were in awe and got excited at every new scene. They were helpful actually as they knew every character and announced them for me..."ohhh! It's Coffee! It's Hot Chocolate! It's Candy Cane!" Coffee was quite a sexy dancer! She would definitely wake up anyone. The colors were from childhood. It was so much more enjoyable than anything I've seen in a long time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I woke up with a cold. I've been battling it now for a bit, but today it started to fight back. Jason had his work holiday party today. Could there be anything worse? The thought of chasing Z around and trying to be the sweet wife...and feeling like shit...and wanting to be in bed...was difficult, but I did it. Z was exhausted, missing her nap and was starting to lay on the floor under tables trying to sleep. Jason brought us home where we both took naps and he went back to the party. He's still not home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We leave for FL next week. I can't believe Christmas is almost here. I haven't bought a single item. Nor have I worked on a card. We normally do New Year's cards because it works better. We are never that organized to get it out before the end of the year. Again, these families with multiple children astound me. The fact that we've already received cards from people is shocking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I wish I had a nanny. I wish I could have lied in bed all day. I wish the nanny had done the dishes and made all of us comfort food. I wish she'd played with Zo' and kept bringing me tea. But, no. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-4594035840423388464?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/4594035840423388464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=4594035840423388464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4594035840423388464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4594035840423388464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/12/sugar-plum-fairies-danced-on-my-head.html' title='sugar plum fairies danced on my head.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-sN312h0TJF8/Tukr7rb9e9I/AAAAAAAAHu8/MQdZzoG8WtA/s72-c/nutcracker.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-4392458689430514293</id><published>2011-12-13T06:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T07:16:59.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bright Lights, Big City</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a down day after getting back from NYC and trying to get back on track. Jason left on an overnight trip and Z and I were left to putz around the house together. We both have colds. I'm wiping both of our noses constantly...and we both have a husky voice. My weekend was inspiring. I feel that stepping out of your comfort zone a bit and into a life totally different than your own is good for you. Jeremy's is easy to step into. I started my weekend off by meeting him at Lincoln Center. He works for the NYC Ballet. Walking up the steps and seeing the beautifully lit tree and seeing the enormous Nutcracker posters was just gorgeous. I thought, "he sees this every day...he's used to it." I can't imagine that. He met me in the lobby and took me on a tour of the David H. Koch theatre. Rehearsals were going on for the Nutcracker and so we stood off stage and watched for a bit. It was a surreal moment for me. Again, this is normal for him. ?? He introduced me to his work friends. One might assume that these would be stuffy artsy fartsy people, but they were all kind, funny and very welcoming. I didn't feel out of place at all. After we left we made our way to the Rockefeller Christmas tree which was beautiful, yet crowded with people. Santa, Rudolf and Goofy were there as well. ?? After about 10 minutes, I was cold, exhausted and ready to head to Brooklyn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brooklyn is a great place to live. Jeremy took me to about 3 specialty stores and we got our loot for dinner. This is a far cry from my Tops grocery runs. I sat in his kitchen drinking wine (and hot tea as my throat was on fire at that point) as he made dinner and we chatted about life and it's ups and downs. I love the fact that I can sit with a man and still see him as 15. (We went to high school together.) He knows where I'm from. He may be living this surreal life to me, but he says he is just a farm boy who lives in NYC. He is down to earth, kind and is very quick to point out how my life is just as inspiring. It is easy to feel pretty damn blah in this setting. The night was perfect. We sat and ate, drank, laughed and I met his roommate, Robby and his girlfriend, Maya--again, the nicest of people. Jeremy does well at surrounding himself with quality friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, let's jump to Hugh--though I'm skipping through brunch and shopping in SoHo which was fun for me to explore for the first time. J and I both gave the performance a B-. It was entertaining, but self promoting and felt overly rehearsed and stiff. The songs weren't anything you wouldn't hear on a tribute to Broadway album sung by anyone. (Sorry Hugh) His dancers weren't in tune with one another. He seemed as if he was walking through the show a bit. Maybe he hold out for the evening performance? I hate to be this rough on him...he was charming and funny, but I expected more off the cuff. I've seen Harry Connick Jr. several times and I was expecting a show more like his. HCJ is an amazing talent and can easily switch up a show on a whim by what's happening in the audience. He is smooth and rarely shaken and you feel that this show is JUST for you. Hugh's off the cuff moments seemed planned. Oh well, it was fun to experience.&lt;br /&gt;(BTW, Dolly Parton and Barbra Streisand were probably the best performers I've ever seen...and I recommend paying the ticket to see them if you ever get the chance.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went back to Brooklyn and I cooked dinner. We all sat around together talking about relationships and watched back episodes of Glee. I sat there thinking...these people are accomplished, kind, funny and very bright. Their life is so city. The subway is their daily commute. They walk everywhere. They may have a car, but it's rarely used. They are busy going to shows, producing shows, going out to eat and sitting around having conversations that mean something. My life seemed...less productive. Aside from raising a great girl, I don't really pursue things that inspire me. Jeremy has his own theatre company for heaven's sake. (&lt;a href="http://trustysidekick.org/"&gt;http://trustysidekick.org&lt;/a&gt;) His roommate, Rob, manages an improv theatre. Ok, I need to do something. So, after talks with Jeremy...I've decided to try my hand at writing a play. I've mentioned my interest before on this blog, but I never truly pursued it. Now, I feel inspired and motivated. I need to create something. I feel good about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recommend always trying to surround yourself with people who raise you up. When I'm around lazy people, I'm lazy. When I'm around people that bring their A game...it makes me want to follow suit. (Thanks Jeremy.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xJXgb_zSHO8/TudhxeA49XI/AAAAAAAAHug/aJ-mR2XUXvU/s1600/DSC03790.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xJXgb_zSHO8/TudhxeA49XI/AAAAAAAAHug/aJ-mR2XUXvU/s320/DSC03790.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;Here you go...here's Hugh as Peter Allen. My only pic because I was afraid to get caught!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wj8hP8p-zBc/Tudh0A3SvII/AAAAAAAAHuo/WrAlDTOedds/s1600/DSC03803.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wj8hP8p-zBc/Tudh0A3SvII/AAAAAAAAHuo/WrAlDTOedds/s320/DSC03803.JPG" width="295" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;Jeremy and I on Sunday morning...pj's and all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s44DqvkYXqA/TudjaiWuxyI/AAAAAAAAHuw/TnKzKgXEogY/s1600/DSC03798.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="236" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s44DqvkYXqA/TudjaiWuxyI/AAAAAAAAHuw/TnKzKgXEogY/s320/DSC03798.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And J with the NYT...listening to NPR and drinking his coffee. Love this picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-4392458689430514293?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/4392458689430514293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=4392458689430514293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4392458689430514293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4392458689430514293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/12/bright-lights-big-city.html' title='Bright Lights, Big City'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-xJXgb_zSHO8/TudhxeA49XI/AAAAAAAAHug/aJ-mR2XUXvU/s72-c/DSC03790.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-7868008992514431214</id><published>2011-12-07T08:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T08:34:01.945-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coffee? Tea? Xanax?</title><content type='html'>My house and my life seem out of control. Z's sleeping schedule was thrown off last weekend and hasn't recovered. NEVER BREAK THE SCHEDULE!!! I was trying to be cool mom...instead of uptight mom and it backfired. Now, she's a mess, I'm a mess, the house is a mess--it's a cycle. I haven't blogged. I haven't folded the laundry. I haven't cooked a meal yet this week. That's all changing today. The weather sucks, that's a given. The cold, rainy, gray days make me want to jump off of a cliff. So, I have a bit of SAD happening. Given. But, I think it is blown up by being overwhelmed with everything else. I think the OCD is also playing a part. I obsessed over making Z strawberry frosted angel food cake cupcakes for her birthday--got those done last night, but let's be honest...they were more for me. It's almost like I HAVE to make them on her birthday and mine or else my grandparents won't be represented. Ridiculous. I finally got to the grocery store yesterday. I hadn't gone since before Thanksgiving. Shocking. We were eating odd concoctions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Z turned 2 on Monday. We spent the day in our pj's doing whatever she wanted and then went to the mall where she rode the carousel about 9 times. They make me sick so J went with her. I was nauseous just watching them go round and round. ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm drinking my heated up coffee with my Almond Joy creamer and feeling content as I set out my day. We just got back from Little Gym where Z wouldn't really cooperate, but she did fine. She is off. I will admit, I worry about the weekend. I'm headed to NYC to see Dewey and she will have Daddy Weekend here. J isn't great about enforcing bedtime. He's a softy...and hence, her favorite parent. But, I'm going to let it go and enjoy my time and not worry about it. If she's a monster when I return, oh well. At least I saw Hugh Jackman sing and dance. Life is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tis the season for anti-depressants. I'm holding off for now. I just need a lot of hugs. Don't we all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-7868008992514431214?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/7868008992514431214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=7868008992514431214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7868008992514431214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7868008992514431214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/12/coffee-tea-xanax.html' title='Coffee? Tea? Xanax?'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-1769713012603328816</id><published>2011-12-02T12:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-02T12:45:27.201-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Team Edward</title><content type='html'>Amanda sent this one to me...had to post. The PERFECT Halloween costume!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZEFIgZ5Cz40/Ttk4zOJ2JvI/AAAAAAAAHuY/ZS9YNqEGZW8/s1600/edwardsci.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZEFIgZ5Cz40/Ttk4zOJ2JvI/AAAAAAAAHuY/ZS9YNqEGZW8/s320/edwardsci.jpg" width="214" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason would look awesome like this. (or me...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-1769713012603328816?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/1769713012603328816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=1769713012603328816' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1769713012603328816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1769713012603328816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/12/team-edward.html' title='Team Edward'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-ZEFIgZ5Cz40/Ttk4zOJ2JvI/AAAAAAAAHuY/ZS9YNqEGZW8/s72-c/edwardsci.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-3459353985940114912</id><published>2011-12-02T07:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-02T07:45:27.667-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blue glow</title><content type='html'>Again, drip...drip...drip. The clouds are back. The rain is back. I'm keeping my lights on all day just to keep it glowing indoors. We have a babysitter tonight!! Dinner and a movie--Hugo 3D. I think we'll just do PF Changs because it's good and it's right there. Just to eat out is nice! We need it. This week hasn't been the best. Our moods are bad. We haven't been poster children for marriage as we struggle through our week annoyed and full of anxiety. So, maybe a date night will help. Let's be serious...the alcoholic drinks will help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We travel to Cleveland tomorrow to celebrate Thanksgiving with J's mom and to celebrate Z's 2nd birthday. I'll sit back and let her be spoiled and just relax about it. (This is what I'm telling myself.) Being in charge all week makes it hard for me to let go. But, this is what is what I wanted...for her to have the grandparent experience of complete adoration and spoiling. I just need to sit and smile and be happy for her....as I think, "Now there is just more stuff to put away..." (Bah Humbug.) I suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NYC is coming...soon...focus....I'm almost there....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a nice depressing winter poem I found.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;big&gt;&lt;b&gt;Written by BadKarAyoke&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/big&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="fullnewstitle"&gt;Lonely Winter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Poem Image" class="picborder" height="226" src="http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/15401.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;To my left.. &lt;br /&gt;Two empty chairs  &lt;br /&gt;Dirty laundry, blue lights &lt;br /&gt;And bottles of prescription pills &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;To my right.. &lt;br /&gt;A shiny new machine &lt;br /&gt;One cigar, helicopters &lt;br /&gt;And a bookshelf of broken dreams &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I sit in the middle of my fluid environment &lt;br /&gt;While melodies fill the air &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I look straight ahead to find no one there &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The cold air sinks in and  &lt;br /&gt;I shiver reaching for my cup of hot tea &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The warmth flows internally as I remain &lt;br /&gt;Frozen to the world before me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------&lt;br /&gt;Laugh with someone tonight and break the cycle of blahness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-3459353985940114912?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/3459353985940114912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=3459353985940114912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3459353985940114912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3459353985940114912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/12/blue-glow.html' title='Blue glow'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-7694857785353464212</id><published>2011-12-01T07:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T07:44:50.728-08:00</updated><title type='text'>June Cleaver, I am not.</title><content type='html'>The sun is shining. Thank you. I'm listening to Winter Songs by Hotel Cafe (found on itunes). I love it. Z is playing behind me. Jason is out today. Z and I are going to decorate the tree in the sitting room today. We'll get a real tree for the kitchen/great room. (what pretentious names, yes? I use them to annoy.)&lt;br /&gt;Last night I went to the library and got a couple of books I'm excited about. I'd never heard of this author before...I felt like I'd discovered gold. Her name is Joan Anderson. I got A Year by the Sea- Thoughts of an Unfinished Woman. The title screamed my name as I passed by it. The next is An Unfinished Marriage. It's the follow up, so, I had to get it as well. As I struggle with the stay at home part of my existence, I feel this book is appropriate. I am not made for this, though I love Z and I don't want her to be with anyone else during the day. I'm not pre school teachery. I'm not selfless enough. I'm not someone who would consider home schooling--too afraid of royally messing her up. I am the disciplinarian. I am the playmate. I am the one who bakes her cookies. I'm the one who decorates the house. I'm the one that sees her ups and downs and who journals about each day in order to feel literate. I try to read something each day. I try to write something each day. I try to focus a bit on myself, alone. Does that sound motherly to you?? I struggle with my own ups and downs and worry I'm not sunshiney enough for her at times. Yet, she is lovely. She is smart. She is sweet and funny and excels at everything she does. I would love to take all of the credit, but I do feel she was born with a little extra something. The mixture of Jason and me seems to work well for her chemistry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blue jays and cardinals look beautiful in the naked trees. I'm watching a woodpecker right now. He's hopping from limb to limb...trying to find something to eat, I'm guessing. I really hope I come back a bird. Something brightly colored. Something hopeful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tUEswi7fosg/Tteg6pTS8HI/AAAAAAAAHuQ/HML-Au7IzFk/s1600/colorful-bird-painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tUEswi7fosg/Tteg6pTS8HI/AAAAAAAAHuQ/HML-Au7IzFk/s1600/colorful-bird-painting.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-7694857785353464212?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/7694857785353464212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=7694857785353464212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7694857785353464212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7694857785353464212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/12/june-cleaver-i-am-not.html' title='June Cleaver, I am not.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-tUEswi7fosg/Tteg6pTS8HI/AAAAAAAAHuQ/HML-Au7IzFk/s72-c/colorful-bird-painting.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-5679412881777689020</id><published>2011-11-30T10:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T13:12:40.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snap out of it!</title><content type='html'>I think Seasonal Affective Disorder is setting in. Damnit!!! So, I'm going to inject myself with holiday cheer today and put up a tree and make cookies. Doesn't that sound like it could work? This weekend we head to Cleveland. The next, I head to NYC to see Dewey and Hugh Jackman. (My god, if that doesn't work, what will???) It's these gray skies...and the COLD setting in. I need to snap out of it. No one wants to feel Scroogey.&amp;nbsp; I definitely don't. I probably&amp;nbsp; need one of those lamps. I just need it to shine on me for a bit. Rochester doesn't get a lot of sun normally--and now it's brutal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need someone to ring the doorbell and smack me in the face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to feel like this girl:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-78Hal7yMdIM/TtZ5X1Q8f0I/AAAAAAAAHuI/7H-0xaeokuQ/s1600/Girl_happy_main.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-78Hal7yMdIM/TtZ5X1Q8f0I/AAAAAAAAHuI/7H-0xaeokuQ/s320/Girl_happy_main.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;later...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, it's not just me. I am counting about 5 other FB friends that are also down in the dumps. It's just in the air. I need Christmas lights on houses in my neighborhood. I need carolers nightly. I need spiked eggnog.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-5679412881777689020?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/5679412881777689020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=5679412881777689020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/5679412881777689020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/5679412881777689020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/snap-out-of-it.html' title='Snap out of it!'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-78Hal7yMdIM/TtZ5X1Q8f0I/AAAAAAAAHuI/7H-0xaeokuQ/s72-c/Girl_happy_main.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-8882583191471892366</id><published>2011-11-28T15:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T16:09:59.268-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hold still!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ztnLSAe5LYw/TtQixSs1CjI/AAAAAAAAHuA/cqG_BxNmIUM/s1600/time.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ztnLSAe5LYw/TtQixSs1CjI/AAAAAAAAHuA/cqG_BxNmIUM/s1600/time.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Monday and it feels like one. It was dark all day. The cold rain matched my mood. I HATE when I'm blue...moody and tired. It really annoys me. I spend the entire day trying to figure out what my problem is. Is it the let down after the holiday? Is it that J is gone again for a long week? Is it that it's freezing cold and walks are not enjoyable? Is it that Christmas is coming and we have to travel? (Not that when we get there it won't be great...but traveling with Z is not fun.) Is it that I'm overwhelmed with the amount of laundry I have to do? (My god, wouldn't that be sad if that were it?) No, I think it's the winding down of the year. Z is going to be 2. Geesh. Soon. It's the realization that all that happened this year is over and it is permanent. It's the fact that Melissa is probably more alone now than ever...and that this festive holiday season will be hollowed out. Not to take away from the happiness of the season, but isn't the end of the year a bit doom and gloom for everyone? (watch it just be me.) Another year down. It's over. Our child is older. We are older and have more lines and cellulite saying so. Time is marching on...as it should. Here is the real kicker--it would suck if it halted as well. If we never aged. If our children didn't grow stronger, older, wiser, kinder. If we didn't learn from our mistakes. If we were stuck in our 20s...a time period of questions and fuck ups. Well--I'd take my body and keep it, but I'd want the experiences (good and absolutely shitty) to continue to form my mind. I'm just trudging through the dark of the year and putting it all together. It takes a while for me to process things. Then, I'll bounce back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time ticks on. We need it to, but it is so hard to try to see it all go by. Like a spinning globe, I guess I just want to be able to stop it for a minute and really look at it, but then let it keep spinning eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-8882583191471892366?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/8882583191471892366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=8882583191471892366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8882583191471892366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8882583191471892366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/hold-still.html' title='hold still!'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-ztnLSAe5LYw/TtQixSs1CjI/AAAAAAAAHuA/cqG_BxNmIUM/s72-c/time.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-1954205762865571500</id><published>2011-11-27T12:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T12:56:43.087-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Repeat the sounding joy.</title><content type='html'>I swear sometimes I've had past lives. At times, I feel such reverberations of them. I feel things and "remember" things that I've never experienced. I have memories of a certain street (one with a tree lined median and snow covered houses)&amp;nbsp; and sometimes if the light hits a room just right...I feel as if I've been in that moment before. Makes you wonder about the time-space continuum. Not to get so deep on a Sunday, but it just happened again. At times, the loneliness of a moment can almost make you crack. Then, all at once, you feel comforted again...as if someone is there holding you tight. We are not alone. I am convinced of that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The holidays also stir up emotions not felt for a while. As I get out the decorations I've put away, the feelings I've put away come out as well. Ugh. Although I'm a "feeler" I do seem to pack away certain things in order to move along with my life. Then, when all that resurfaces, I feel as heavy as a house. Earlier, I took a nap and could barely muster up the strength to get back up. It was a 30 minute depression. So, I do what I normally do...I take a shower and wash it all away. I think happy thoughts and formulate future pictures of my life. I create the movie of my life so that I know I can make it to the end. "It's just getting good...you'll love this next part."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's become the hour when the sky is just barely lit and the ground looks black. I've got to find the twinkly blue lights to put up soon. This house needs a couple lit trees to create the feelings of joy that Z can remember and tap into when she needs it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-1954205762865571500?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/1954205762865571500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=1954205762865571500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1954205762865571500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1954205762865571500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/repeat-sounding-joy.html' title='Repeat the sounding joy.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-7910372658448992774</id><published>2011-11-23T08:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T09:05:06.372-08:00</updated><title type='text'>take pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ufEBjgrgam4/Ts0kOcbDoUI/AAAAAAAAHtg/R3YvqC-xN_Y/s1600/NYCballoon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ufEBjgrgam4/Ts0kOcbDoUI/AAAAAAAAHtg/R3YvqC-xN_Y/s320/NYCballoon.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yjrHMtejy8Y/Ts0kmlrdBcI/AAAAAAAAHto/5nQ6znUKhZk/s1600/Macys_thanksgiving_parade_snoopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yjrHMtejy8Y/Ts0kmlrdBcI/AAAAAAAAHto/5nQ6znUKhZk/s320/Macys_thanksgiving_parade_snoopy.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CIu770Xf9gQ/Ts0k8G3dnEI/AAAAAAAAHtw/Lt-bye95VoQ/s1600/tinman-1939.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CIu770Xf9gQ/Ts0k8G3dnEI/AAAAAAAAHtw/Lt-bye95VoQ/s320/tinman-1939.jpg" width="270" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aUYUDOQU0co/Ts0lV9IKsYI/AAAAAAAAHt4/r2G7ZFJpnPs/s1600/macys-thanksgiving-day-spidya784ae2c968fea23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="196" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aUYUDOQU0co/Ts0lV9IKsYI/AAAAAAAAHt4/r2G7ZFJpnPs/s320/macys-thanksgiving-day-spidya784ae2c968fea23.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I'll be up making side dishes...worrying about the turkey...watching Z play with her Aunties and watching the parade. It's something I look forward to. My sister and I enjoy it. It's magical for me. Not sure why. I'm hoping Matt will host...that would make it even better. Seeing all the BIG balloons and the Broadway shows performing--just gives you a taste of the big city. So cool. It's a great way to start off a day---anticipating the arrival of the other guests and eating all that food!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up and wrote a list of the things I forgot at the store yesterday. I glanced out the window to see the rain soaked maple and felt lucky to be inside. I'd heard about a car accident in Rochester last night that involved five 18 year olds. One died. I'm sure they were all friends. The driver had been drinking. Two days before Thanksgiving...and now these families have to deal with this loss. And, to know that next door (the house I can see through the window behind this computer), everyone will be gathering and missing Bill and Lynn. It's just a weird time. Happy...and heartbreaking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am lucky. You are lucky. Cherish your family and take mental pictures of your happy times. Think of those who are no longer with us...and know they are still close by--most likely smiling upon all of us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-7910372658448992774?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/7910372658448992774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=7910372658448992774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7910372658448992774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7910372658448992774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/tomorrow-9am-nbc.html' title='take pictures'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-ufEBjgrgam4/Ts0kOcbDoUI/AAAAAAAAHtg/R3YvqC-xN_Y/s72-c/NYCballoon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-6751172372157824731</id><published>2011-11-22T18:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-22T18:45:33.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'>every year.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://0.gvt0.com/vi/egWFWloosog/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/egWFWloosog&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/egWFWloosog&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home for the Holidays. I own it. I watch it as therapy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Thanksgiving. Good luck out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-6751172372157824731?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/6751172372157824731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=6751172372157824731' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6751172372157824731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6751172372157824731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/annual-viewing.html' title='every year.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-1652275703069409093</id><published>2011-11-22T12:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-22T12:40:03.097-08:00</updated><title type='text'>T-urkey minus 2 days</title><content type='html'>Today I woke up at the crack of dawn to go the grocery store. Jason met me at the door and asked that I go at 10 instead. I went back to bed. At 10 thirty I went to Wegmans and shopped to my heart's delight. I bought things for my turkey that I've never bought before. Candied ginger, fresh sage and rosemary. I had to look for the fresh herbs...had no idea where they were. When I finally asked a lady where they were, I was standing right in front of them. Go figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've now made the brine--added some apple cider to it because I was on the phone with my friend Becky and she said she did last year. Why not? She and I chit chatted while I admired my bubbling mixture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I am proud. Bill used this recipe. I know others are making it this year as well. I'm perfectly happy making it a part of my tradition. I have my paternal grandparents here in spirit with their cranberry-orange relish, hanky pankies and the meringue on the pies. I wish they were here in person to see me make all of this food. They would be shocked (but would not say so)--they'd be proud (and would say so.) The holidays make me miss them so much that I ache. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I wish Bill were here to text questions about my turkey. He'd probably just text back, "Coming over." Always being available to help anyone...he'd fine great joy in coming over and helping. There are few in the world like this. (But I happen to know some and feel awesome about that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look forward to everyone finally arriving. I look forward to watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade--( it's on at 9AM people!! NBC). I look forward to all of the loving comments about Zoë. I look forward to eating all of the food. I look forward to seeing everyone next door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Thanksgiving is as about as bitter sweet as you can get. There is a constant reminder that we are all not here--there are people missing. But there is also a constant reminder that we are loved by all that are here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy cooking today. More tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is Turkey recipe!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EPEJJbafO3I/TswHW5CeY1I/AAAAAAAAHtY/A_ESU1FNBuM/s1600/turkey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EPEJJbafO3I/TswHW5CeY1I/AAAAAAAAHtY/A_ESU1FNBuM/s320/turkey.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;For the brine:&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;ul class="kv-ingred-list1"&gt;&lt;li class="ingredient"&gt;1 cup kosher salt&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="ingredient"&gt;1/2 cup light brown sugar&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="ingredient"&gt;1 gallon vegetable stock&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="ingredient"&gt;1 tablespoon black peppercorns&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="ingredient"&gt;1 1/2 teaspoons allspice berries&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="ingredient"&gt;1 1/2 teaspoons chopped candied ginger&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="ingredient"&gt;1 gallon heavily iced water&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;h3&gt;For the aromatics:&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;ul class="kv-ingred-list1"&gt;&lt;li class="ingredient"&gt;1 red apple, sliced&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="ingredient"&gt;1/2 onion, sliced&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="ingredient"&gt;1 cinnamon stick&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="ingredient"&gt;1 cup water&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="ingredient"&gt;4 sprigs rosemary&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="ingredient"&gt;6 leaves sage&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="ingredient"&gt;Canola oil&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Directions&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;div class="instruction"&gt;Click &lt;a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/food/holidays_and_parties/channel/0,1000341,FOOD_32087_11828,00.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to see how it's done.&lt;/div&gt;2 to 3 days before roasting:&lt;br /&gt;Begin thawing the turkey in the refrigerator or in a cooler kept at 38 degrees F.&lt;br /&gt;Combine the vegetable stock, salt, brown sugar, peppercorns, allspice berries, and candied ginger in a large stockpot over medium-high heat. Stir occasionally to dissolve solids and bring to a boil. Then remove the brine from the heat, cool to room temperature, and refrigerate.&lt;br /&gt;Early on the day or the night before you'd like to eat:&lt;br /&gt;Combine the brine, water and ice in the 5-gallon bucket. Place the thawed turkey (with innards removed) breast side down in brine. If necessary, weigh down the bird to ensure it is fully immersed, cover, and refrigerate or set in cool area for 8 to 16 hours, turning the bird once half way through brining.&lt;br /&gt;Preheat the oven to 500 degrees F. Remove the bird from brine and rinse inside and out with cold water. Discard the brine.&lt;br /&gt;Place the bird on roasting rack inside a half sheet pan and pat dry with paper towels.&lt;br /&gt;Combine the apple, onion, cinnamon stick, and 1 cup of water in a microwave safe dish and microwave on high for 5 minutes. Add steeped aromatics to the turkey's cavity along with the rosemary and sage. Tuck the wings underneath the bird and coat the skin liberally with canola oil.&lt;br /&gt;Roast the turkey on lowest level of the oven at 500 degrees F for 30 minutes. Insert a probe thermometer into thickest part of the breast and reduce the oven temperature to 350 degrees F. Set the thermometer alarm (if available) to 161 degrees F. A 14 to 16 pound bird should require a total of 2 to 2 1/2 hours of roasting. Let the turkey rest, loosely covered with foil or a large mixing bowl for 15 minutes before carving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENJOY.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-1652275703069409093?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/1652275703069409093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=1652275703069409093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1652275703069409093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1652275703069409093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/t-urkey-minus-2-days.html' title='T-urkey minus 2 days'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-EPEJJbafO3I/TswHW5CeY1I/AAAAAAAAHtY/A_ESU1FNBuM/s72-c/turkey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-8053755093647905861</id><published>2011-11-21T10:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T10:28:04.577-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Denial</title><content type='html'>There are days...today is one of them...where I wish that living on another planet was an option. Ok, maybe not living there, but at least to have the option to vacation there. And let's go one step further and populate that planet with people that are only the best versions of themselves. They have reached their potential. They've made good decisions. They are happy. They are balanced. They have inner peace. And I am my ideal self. I've finally become happy with who I am. There is no negativity. Nothing but good feelings and met expectations. Everyone who has ever had an impact on my life is there...whether they had died on Earth or not. Everyone who has ever made you happy. Anyone that will make you happy. Fantastic people all around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what I want today.&lt;br /&gt;Too much??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-8053755093647905861?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/8053755093647905861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=8053755093647905861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8053755093647905861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8053755093647905861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/denial.html' title='Denial'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-2582441773529641004</id><published>2011-11-20T10:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T10:09:38.342-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For Melissa</title><content type='html'>&lt;pre style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Author: Indigo Girls&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;pre style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Album title: Indigo Girls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love's Recovery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------ --------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the time of which I speak it was hard to turn the other cheek&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the blows of insecurity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeding the cancer of my intellect the blood of love soon neglected&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lay dying in the strength of its impurity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile our friends we thought were so together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They've all gone and left each other in search of fairer weather&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we sit here in our storm and drink a toast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the slim chance of love's recovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;There I am in younger days, star gazing,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Painting picture perfect maps of how my life and love would be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not counting the unmarked paths of misdirection&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My compass, faith in love's perfection&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I missed ten million miles of read I should have seen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile friends we thought were so together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Left each other one by one in search of fairer weather&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we sit here and drink a toast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the slim chance of love's recovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rain soaked and voice choked like silent screaming in a dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I search for our absolute distinction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not content to blow and bend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the whims of culture that swoop like vultures&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating us away, eating us away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating us away to our extinction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Oh how I wish I were a trinity, so if I lost a part of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd still have two of the same to live&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But nobody gets a lifetime rehearsal, as specks of dust we're universal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To let this love survive would be the greatest gift we could give&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell all the friends who think they're so together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That these are ghosts and mirages, these thoughts of fairer weather&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though it's storming out I feel safe within the arms of love's discovery&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-2582441773529641004?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/2582441773529641004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=2582441773529641004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2582441773529641004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2582441773529641004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/for-melissa.html' title='For Melissa'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-6706242017892837967</id><published>2011-11-18T07:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T08:13:14.769-08:00</updated><title type='text'>comfort and joy</title><content type='html'>Watched Regis' farewell show and cried...I need to get a grip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Z is watching her "dragons" movie (How to train your dragon) before her nap. Jason comes home today. Our girl weekend is ending. I am exhausted. She had a big week--shedding her high chair. She has new phrases, "I'm HAPPY!!!" (that is a nice one.) "I'm at the table!!" (that's cute, too.) "Mommy...go! Alone Please!" (not as cute) But, I'll take the please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I got a sitter and went out on the town. Not that exciting...but I did get out of the house on the one night it was freezing and snowing. Go figure. I got our Turkey!! It's 19.75 lbs. (My year of birth...thought it was a good omen.) I also got window markers to decorate the kitchen. We're celebrating Thanksgiving and two birthdays...this should make it easy to change them up. I'm too concerned with such things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met my friend Carin for dinner. She talked about how much she loves her new job and the people she will be working with...and I thought, "I miss that." I will feel it again. I miss office gab. But, office politics sucked, so I'll stay home for the time being. Plus...I know I'll cry like a baby when Z goes to her first day of school--and long for days just like today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the holidays literally starting next week...I miss my grandparents even more. I miss the light they brought into my life. I keep reminding myself that I, too, can have that light. With Z being so obsessed with "HAPPY"...that is a good sign. We have a dance party every day. We laugh, dance and act ridiculous. She won't remember these times...but I will. My aim is to inject her with as many feelings of joy, memories of happiness and have a base of good feelings about her life to help her in the future. Every parent wants this. Sadness is always nearby. Disappointments. Anxiety. Frustration. Fear. All of these things I feel I bathed in for several years. I don't want that for her. Will she feel them? Of course. But when she heads home from school, or wherever she is...I want her to have the feeling of comfort that she is coming home. You have to have that touchstone in your life. So many don't have it. The more I talk to my friends--the more I hear their disappointment in not feeling accepted. Damn. What a shame. I figure...if you can't go home, come here!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I can make my home welcoming and a place of laughter for anyone that walks in the door--I'll feel as accomplished as my grandparents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-6706242017892837967?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/6706242017892837967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=6706242017892837967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6706242017892837967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6706242017892837967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/comfort-and-joy.html' title='comfort and joy'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-518531768953908531</id><published>2011-11-16T15:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T16:22:35.748-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Par-annoy-ya</title><content type='html'>Z is on the floor behind me sweetly playing with her farm set. She's been learning about farms on her Baby Einstein video. She would normally be in bed right now, but she's been having such a hard time getting and staying to sleep that I'm trying to tire her out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day was slow. Last night was long. When Jason is gone, the nights are harder now. I used to sort of enjoy the alone time, but ever since the horrible knock on the door over a month ago, I just sit feeling scared. Not that anything will happen to him, just scared in general. I jump at everything. I feel anxious. I feel sad. I replay the whole night. Then I think..."if I'm feeling this, how the hell is Melissa feeling?" The shock waves just keep hitting everyone. Bill and Lynn are gone. WHAT???? It's just so fucked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep trying to read some pages in Diane Keaton's book, Then Again, while Z doesn't notice. There are times when Z is so needy...then are the times of great independence. I love both. I hate both. It's odd. But, I am loving the book. She's reading her mother's journals right now. Fascinating. I know Z will discover this blog one day. She'll also discover my journals. I've been writing since high school. Well, there are a couple from grade school as well. I doubt my ramblings of being in love with a 7th grade boy will move her too much. (Besides, the boy changed on the next page...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My&amp;nbsp; mom doesn't journal. Well... now. She just found a journal she wrote in 1960. It covered her frosh year at KU. I want to read it. I wonder if she'll let me. I wonder if I'll ask her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many I wish I were closer to, or just knew more. It takes two to be close. I wish about being closer more than actually doing something about it. It's fear of rejection. It runs deep. It keeps me away from so many people. I feel like an odd duck a lot. My way of being close is having long deep conversations with people. Most people are not like this. (especially in my family) I am definitely an alien in my family. None of them really like to talk. They are very private people--with many walls up.&amp;nbsp; I tried to push through the walls all during the wonder years of my life to no avail. Now, if I see even a spec of a wall....I leave it alone. I even struggle with Melissa. I want to be closer...thinking I could help her in some way. I talk myself into thinking I'm being annoying with my frequent visits...wanting to leave her with family and her close friends. I've never been so close to a tragedy as an adult. (Adulthood came to me around 32, before then I was a bit clueless.) I over think. I over feel. I obsess. It's really quite annoying. I figure, if I'm annoying myself, I don't want to be around anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Z is starting to rub her eyes...might be time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-518531768953908531?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/518531768953908531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=518531768953908531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/518531768953908531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/518531768953908531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/par-annoy-ya.html' title='Par-annoy-ya'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-4600463361333284142</id><published>2011-11-15T10:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T10:14:41.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This helps.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/RMUDw4_e93Y/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RMUDw4_e93Y&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RMUDw4_e93Y&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-4600463361333284142?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/4600463361333284142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=4600463361333284142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4600463361333284142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4600463361333284142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/this-helps.html' title='This helps.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-8862242508698478264</id><published>2011-11-15T08:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T09:08:48.481-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Expectations...too Great.</title><content type='html'>Jason is gone this week and I've been putting myself to task with a to do list from hell. Staying at home is such an odd state of being. I find myself trying to be overly domesticated. Trying to be Martha Stewart. I'll never be her. I'll never have the perfect Thanksgiving decorations or table arrangements, but I can try. I've been going nuts over Z's 2nd birthday party theme. Do 2 year olds really need a theme?? I called a woman about a cake--just to give it a little oomph. I'm getting a birthday wishes/memory book for everyone to sign. She'll love to look back on that one day. I'll make my angel food cupcakes because I want my grandparents to be there in spirit. I was going to see if I could get some sort of backdrop to hang over the windows to create some type of cool aesthetic--seems a bit much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm cooking the turkey this year. We're hosting Thanksgiving again. I love it, but I'm a bit overwhelmed by all the things I said I'd do. One at a time. I love all the little comments about how domesticated I am now...always little surprised comments from people who knew me "before." I know they are trying to be nice--many people say these things--but I find them like little digs. I'm too sensitive. It seems so condescending. I know I was a slob people. I know I didn't cook. I know I didn't do much...but let a girl grow up and be a mom and wife!! Geesh. Coming from Kansas...most of my girlfriends were so "domesticated" at an early age. They baked, cooked, sewed, babysat constantly--crafted. I wasn't that girl. They were about decor much earlier than I even thought about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, here I am. 36. Struggling over decorations and menus and expectations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note. I downloaded Diane Keaton's book today and already love it. Here is the first sentence: &lt;i&gt;Mom loved adages, quotes, slogans. There were always little reminders pasted on the kitchen wall. For example, the word THINK. I found THINK thumbtacked on a bulletin board in her darkroom. I saw it Scotch-taped on a pencil box she’d collaged. I even found a pamphlet titled THINK on her bedside table. Mom liked to THINK.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Her mother was extremely influential to her. I can't wait to read more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-8862242508698478264?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/8862242508698478264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=8862242508698478264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8862242508698478264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8862242508698478264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/expectationstoo-great.html' title='Expectations...too Great.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-5816923195336851495</id><published>2011-11-13T04:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-13T04:54:15.938-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Being Elmo</title><content type='html'>It's Sunday morning. Z woke up right at 7am. She's in the loft with her dad watching something Elmo. His voice this early grates on my nerves.&amp;nbsp; However, I did see that there is a new documentary, Being Elmo, that looks really good. It would be fascinating, I think, to see how Elmo was born. I'm thankful to Elmo for helping me teach Z about potty training. For helping her learn her letters. For explaining emotions, but mostly for entertaining her while I unload the dishwasher. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/dlNZo10pCts/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dlNZo10pCts&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dlNZo10pCts&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-5816923195336851495?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/5816923195336851495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=5816923195336851495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/5816923195336851495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/5816923195336851495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/being-elmo.html' title='Being Elmo'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-3017646872703599411</id><published>2011-11-12T17:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-12T17:12:26.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happiness.</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MrqhDtwaG4A/Tr8ZMtANkuI/AAAAAAAAHtI/9BNHPbPgOFI/s1600/Jackman1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="226" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MrqhDtwaG4A/Tr8ZMtANkuI/AAAAAAAAHtI/9BNHPbPgOFI/s320/Jackman1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hugh Jackman on Broadway. Dec. 11th at 2pm&lt;br /&gt;Happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-3017646872703599411?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/3017646872703599411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=3017646872703599411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3017646872703599411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/3017646872703599411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/dec-11-at-2pm.html' title='Happiness.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-MrqhDtwaG4A/Tr8ZMtANkuI/AAAAAAAAHtI/9BNHPbPgOFI/s72-c/Jackman1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-2287334383625962693</id><published>2011-11-07T16:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T10:10:43.055-08:00</updated><title type='text'>NYC</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NH0WLvTfZT0/Trh8HG0o9kI/AAAAAAAAHtA/8D1n0qkEuiI/s1600/poets_walk_fall_central_park.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NH0WLvTfZT0/Trh8HG0o9kI/AAAAAAAAHtA/8D1n0qkEuiI/s320/poets_walk_fall_central_park.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up watching When Harry Met Sally. It was my favorite. Not only did I love the story, I loved New York City. I loved the shots of the city in the Fall...in Winter. I loved Harry running down the street to get to Sally at end of the movie on NYE. Everything that was happening was happening in that city, in that moment. I also love Woody Allen movies. I love the lives of these people in their big city apartments. I loved watching them walk around the streets. So many different people. So many types of food, music, styles...surely you could find something that you loved. Surely you could find the perfect city friend, the perfect city apt., the perfect job in a bookstore. Then, Sex and the City came on and I loved it even more. I loved watching their lives that were SO FAR away from where I was living in Kansas. It just seemed more alive. I've always had a feeling about it that I was suppose to live there. When I was there with Dustin we just KNEW we were suppose to be there. We loved the village. We loved the city shots that matched the pictures in our heads. We were merely tourists. We took in the parts of NYC that everyone does. Visiting Jeremy helped ground the daydreams. His real life...his real apartment...his real neighborhood restaurant...all so damn cool. I still felt I wanted to live there. I'm not there yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I'm 6 hours away and when I finally get to walk in Central Park I feel happy. I feel happy walking down the busy, loud, rude streets. I love the museums. I love the shows. I love the promise of BIGness. Big emotions. Big insights. Big excitement. Big memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each morning, I love watching the talk shows that are filmed there. I have a daydream life of being among them. That, I too, walked thru the park and down a beautiful historic street to get to work. I took the subway. I haiedl cabs. (Chicago helped me live out some of these daydreams.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could be that I have these feelings because I've never lived there. It's all in my head. It can be whatever I create it to be. Carrie Bradshaw is not my best friend. But-- I wish she and I were at least in touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-2287334383625962693?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/2287334383625962693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=2287334383625962693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2287334383625962693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2287334383625962693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/nyc.html' title='NYC'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-NH0WLvTfZT0/Trh8HG0o9kI/AAAAAAAAHtA/8D1n0qkEuiI/s72-c/poets_walk_fall_central_park.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-7870440296456358811</id><published>2011-11-07T06:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T06:16:55.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November Rain by Linda Pastan</title><content type='html'>How separate we are&lt;br /&gt;under our black umbrellas—dark&lt;br /&gt;planets in our own small orbits,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hiding from this wet assault&lt;br /&gt;of weather as if water&lt;br /&gt;would violate the skin,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as if these raised silk canopies&lt;br /&gt;could protect us&lt;br /&gt;from whatever is coming next—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December with its white&lt;br /&gt;enamel surfaces; the numbing&lt;br /&gt;silences of winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From above we must look&lt;br /&gt;like a family of bats—&lt;br /&gt;ribbed wings spread&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;against the rain,&lt;br /&gt;swooping towards any&lt;br /&gt;makeshift shelter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard this on The Writer's Almanac this morning...couldn't have fit my mood more. Unreal. I swear...the universe told me to turn o the radio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-7870440296456358811?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/7870440296456358811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=7870440296456358811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7870440296456358811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7870440296456358811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/november-rain-by-linda-pastan.html' title='November Rain by Linda Pastan'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-6150305691253757368</id><published>2011-11-06T13:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-06T13:11:17.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'>snapshot moment</title><content type='html'>As we walked through the neighborhood today...this warm day in Autumn--I felt every word of "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." The leaves are beautiful. We were watching Z run ahead, laughing...on her safe little street--creating her childhood and creating memories for me to yearn for later. Feeling loss and such happiness at the same time. So bizarre.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-6150305691253757368?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/6150305691253757368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=6150305691253757368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6150305691253757368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6150305691253757368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/snapshot-moment.html' title='snapshot moment'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-6781308292899460807</id><published>2011-11-04T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-04T08:12:10.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too much theraputic crap for a Friday</title><content type='html'>All my life I've always struggled with wanting to be someone else. Someone cooler, someone who made people really laugh, someone who was quick witted, someone prettier, someone smarter... I think Jr. High fucked me up. One year of total self doubt and without a friend in the world puts a little anxiety chip into your head forever that you might not be good enough. (I realize that most get over this feeling...) As I constantly think about how to help someone or how to be better for someone...it occurs to me that all I can do is be okay with what I put out into the world. I am always annoyed with people who accept their fate of personality. "This is who I am, I'm not changing." "I've never been that way, I can't be that way." I speak from a place of knowing that you can change. Maybe not at the core...but at least you can change habits, you can learn. I was a slob, I'm not now. I was lazy...I'm (not as much) now. I was a victim, I'm not now. There are times when laying down for a while--feeling beaten by life...is okay. Take the beating...relish it...but then get back up. Some seem to take punches and then immediately push forward. I have friends that are tough as nails. They are warriors. They don't let self pity get in the way of their life. I've always watched them in awe. Where does that come from?? Even if they had the shittiest childhood...they are just strong and wise and resilient as hell. I laid down for years. It makes me feel ill to know how many years I wasted on self pity, self doubt and feeling defeated. Gross. But, I'm learning every day. I keep meeting people who are just so present in life. They feel what they need to feel. They say what they need to say. They are just doing what they need to do. They aren't wondering how else to do it--each person is so different. I'm an observer. I've never been a leader, I've said that many times. I feel as if I'm suppose to understand something more than just the average person. I am very aware of what I want to learn from others. I am constantly trying to grow and be different--better. My 7th grade self is never too far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I felt like shit. Z came in and wanted to watch the video where she danced to a band in the mall when we went trick or treating. She kept saying it..."Watch Zoë dance!!!" I thought, exactly...we should just dance it out. I put on some music and she danced and hopped and laughed. I did, too. I literally have to shake myself out of it sometimes. The sun is shining today...as I felt it would.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-6781308292899460807?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/6781308292899460807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=6781308292899460807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6781308292899460807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6781308292899460807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/too-much-theraputic-crap-for-friday.html' title='Too much theraputic crap for a Friday'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-6460310971019668495</id><published>2011-11-03T08:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-03T08:53:43.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bleh</title><content type='html'>Some days are harder than others. Some days your heart feels as if it's sinking. Some days the day looks more gray than normal. These are the times when you have to remind yourself it won't always be this way. Tomorrow, you'll feel better. The sun will be shining and you'll feel it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dead leaves on my deck are getting to me. I'll go sweep them off. I'm not depressed, just heavier today than yesterday. Tomorrow I'll be lighter. Or, maybe later today. I normally give myself pep talks and it goes away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Fed Ex lady rang the doorbell and knocked on the door. My heart sank and I immediately felt ill. Jason had left the house an hour before. Ugh. It is 4 weeks today that I got the doorbell and knock about Bill so late at night. I want my doorbell removed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the thing--we all feel like shit some days. We don't need to focus on it, but acknowledge it and move on. Ok, now, shit....go away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-6460310971019668495?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/6460310971019668495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=6460310971019668495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6460310971019668495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6460310971019668495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/bleh.html' title='bleh'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-4675719317311996648</id><published>2011-11-02T08:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-02T09:50:11.982-07:00</updated><title type='text'>shock and awe</title><content type='html'>It's been awhile. I'm disorganized and feeling disconnected. I'm exhausted. I'm thankful. I'm full of anxiety. How are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Z is sleeping this morning, I'm trying to get done all the things I've been neglecting. She had a scary run in with a skeleton and is still traumatized, so I'm quickly taking down the Halloween decorations and trying to make it look like Thanksgiving. Let's move on from the ghouls and into giving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I was thinking how hard it is to tread through life. Yes, it's beautiful, it can be wonderful, it can be full of laughter and friendship and love--but when a tragedy rocks you to your core, it's just damn hard to get through. I try to go next door each day, even just for a min, just to see how everyone is--see how their faces look, see how Melissa is feeling and it's difficult to figure out how to be...what to share...what to do. I look for a certain smile or a glimmer...but it's not there yet. I somehow want to see a face I saw before Bill died. I want to feel the way I did before. I want her to feel the way she did...but it's just not the way it is...or will be. But, when I walk in, for a moment, everyone smiles, everyone greets me and everyone asks how I am. They are comfortable enough to share their misery with me...but, they are unselfish enough to ask about me. These are such great lessons for me to learn and to share with Z on the way to gracefully move through grief. Some find the dark and can't get out of it enough to still participate in life. They become black holes of their former selves and unfortunately, the life lost of their loved one isn't the only death. Having the group at Melissa's still able to laugh and really care about others is a testament to Bill, Lynn and the entire family. Good people. Damn it for happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dustin left yesterday afternoon. Z was all out of sorts about it. She enjoyed him. I do, too. We spent our days talking, walking, laughing and trying to do as many Fall activities as we could. I baked for him and cooked for him and listened to him about his life. I wanted him to feel as much at home as possible--I know he currently doesn't have that outlet. I think there are times when we do feel lost and alienated from our families...or our friends. Either we do it ourselves or we are misunderstood and let down. Families are suppose to love unconditionally--and sometimes we just don't do it well. It sucks. But, creating family wherever I can is important to me. My friends are a part of my family and always have been. Dustin is Uncle Dustin...and Z has MANY Aunties. I want her to understand that blood doesn't make family--love does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, on to my chores. I promise lighter posts in the future...but for now, learning from others is in the focus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-4675719317311996648?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/4675719317311996648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=4675719317311996648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4675719317311996648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4675719317311996648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/11/in-awe.html' title='shock and awe'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-2334367926358165397</id><published>2011-10-24T08:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T08:08:07.395-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm really just not that into you anymore.</title><content type='html'>This morning I watched an interview on Today that got me thinking about friendships. Martha Stewarts's daughter, Alexis spoke about her new book, Whateverland and also her friendship break up with the co author, Jennifer Hutt. They are simply not friends anymore...I guess Alexis didn't want to be around her and that was that. They had a tv show together...and they wrote a book...and it seems like one day Alexis thought, "I'm tired of being around you and you're not my type of person..." That's interesting to me. I have issues with friends at times. Meaning, I can't cut them loose even when I need to. I hang on to them...and it's just not healthy. Aren't there people you just think, "Wow, we used to have a lot in common...we used to be close and now...not so much. You annoy me, really." It's sort of awful, but really just life. We grow. We break up with boyfriends...why not friends? It's the friends that never ask you about you. They go on about themselves...and they don't seem to notice that you're even there. They disappear during difficult times. They don't even make you laugh anymore. Now, I know we all go through times when we have to focus on our lives and we drift, but that's not what I'm talking about. It's more...whenever you talk to this person you feel worse than when you started. That's not healthy. I have people like this...but I can't seem to break up. I wonder how many want to break up with me? (I need to become aware of this as well...and take some cues possibly...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's my own fault. I'm working on it. I need to make a conscious effort to be a better friend myself. I should focus on those that make my world better and the others will have to take a back seat. There are so many amazing people in my life that I don't speak enough to, I don't reach out to enough because of one thing or another--but good friendships and good people are a treasure and I need to start treating them that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is good, but there are some damn difficult times--it's time to not only realize who makes you stronger...but to lend a hand to those who might need your strength a bit more. Some aren't good at reaching out, but when you do--it's very rewarding. Grab hands and hold on...we've got a lot of life to go yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-2334367926358165397?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/2334367926358165397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=2334367926358165397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2334367926358165397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2334367926358165397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/10/im-really-just-not-that-into-you.html' title='I&apos;m really just not that into you anymore.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-4115887896106056238</id><published>2011-10-23T09:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-23T09:12:16.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="body"&gt;   No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;—&amp;nbsp;Steve Jobs&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-4115887896106056238?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/4115887896106056238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=4115887896106056238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4115887896106056238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4115887896106056238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/10/no-one-wants-to-die.html' title=''/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-7909128503242677624</id><published>2011-10-20T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T15:58:16.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the giving trees</title><content type='html'>We took a little fam walk around the block around 10am. The sun was perfectly lighting the trees...yet it was so gray in other areas of sky. Oranges and reds just popped. The streets were wet from an early morning rain and for some reason the beauty of this time of day made me really emotional. Maybe it was because I was so thankful. Or, maybe I know that this time is fleeting... It's such a juxtaposition of the time of year and the times we live in. I feel such sadness and such happiness at the same time. I walked by Bill and Melissa's house and know all the pain they are in--but I want to go get them and take them on a walk with me. I know they're not ready to take it in...but one day they will again. When you go through such sadness, having the world be so beautiful can be maddening. The fact that it is still turning doesn't make sense. But it does. It continues to turn through all of our issues and our heartbreaks. It just keeps going--as it will long after we are gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dustin is coming next Wednesday. I'm thrilled. He'll spend a week with us...relaxing, talking, Halloweening and eating. I got a sitter for Friday night so we can go haunted housing. The three of us love this time of year. I also put the sitter on hold for Thursday in case we want to go to the movies. Jason will be traveling. Mostly, it's just someone to sit in our house...since Z goes down so early. Last night she slept for 14 hours--she didn't feel well. Today, she seems much better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the time of year to try to walk outside in the evenings and take in the noise of the swirling leaves and the crisp night air. It's a time to reflect. It's a time to really give thought to what's really important and make sure you've centered your life around it. Easier said that done...I know, but it should be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PTleAh5-cnI/TqClu_kxfZI/AAAAAAAAHo4/oC2We4SE4E8/s1600/DSC03327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PTleAh5-cnI/TqClu_kxfZI/AAAAAAAAHo4/oC2We4SE4E8/s320/DSC03327.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F4nXLd-pYM8/TqCl8dw1aXI/AAAAAAAAHpA/cCseZej_yho/s1600/DSC03339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F4nXLd-pYM8/TqCl8dw1aXI/AAAAAAAAHpA/cCseZej_yho/s320/DSC03339.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CrXHmKtHMcM/TqCmI8F4WLI/AAAAAAAAHpI/oO7Ej4CVgYc/s1600/DSC03341.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CrXHmKtHMcM/TqCmI8F4WLI/AAAAAAAAHpI/oO7Ej4CVgYc/s320/DSC03341.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Qmzz8GajLY/TqCmUg4RjcI/AAAAAAAAHpQ/2aYRCgs9V3I/s1600/DSC03349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Qmzz8GajLY/TqCmUg4RjcI/AAAAAAAAHpQ/2aYRCgs9V3I/s320/DSC03349.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-7909128503242677624?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/7909128503242677624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=7909128503242677624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7909128503242677624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7909128503242677624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/10/giving-trees.html' title='the giving trees'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-PTleAh5-cnI/TqClu_kxfZI/AAAAAAAAHo4/oC2We4SE4E8/s72-c/DSC03327.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-8753108919909348385</id><published>2011-10-19T12:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T12:55:27.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'>History</title><content type='html'>I have a playlist that I've been compiling for a while now. Currently, it has 142 songs. I titled it History. Basically, I go through my music and pick out all of the songs that have particular significance to me. Then, as I listen to it...it takes me on a ride through my life. It's pretty cool. I am thrown from one decade to another...and realize how resilient I actually was through all of it. Some great memories. Some, not so great. It's a cool experiment.&amp;nbsp; My heart grows and pushes through into different chambers as each song plays. Close friendships, loves, new friendships, hard times and times of great growth. The high school songs are still my favorite I think. I love the college songs, but in HS, I was just figuring out what groups and singers influenced me the most. Depeche Mode, REM, U2 and Edie Brickell--they just make me so happy. The Beatles are my life artists. They flow through each year and decade. Paul's voice just mends me. Simon and Garfunkel make me feel close to my parents. That's another thing...spirits come with the music. If I'm lonely...the spirits of my friends and family gather around. I can feel them. I feel close to them. It's amazing the journey the heart can go on...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-8753108919909348385?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/8753108919909348385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=8753108919909348385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8753108919909348385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8753108919909348385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/10/history.html' title='History'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-5075574914627091284</id><published>2011-10-16T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-16T15:04:32.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'>circle of friends</title><content type='html'>Today I went over to Melissa's and sat with her girlfriends/sister/MIL around her kitchen table. We chatted, ate, played with an Ipad and just filled the time with comforting conversation. I only knew Melissa 2 weeks ago. After this experience, I feel that I've gained a family. I love the strength of women. I love their comforting ways. I love their loving force. Girlfriends are powerful supports and guides to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;The healing power of kind human interaction...it's really amazing.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-5075574914627091284?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/5075574914627091284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=5075574914627091284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/5075574914627091284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/5075574914627091284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/10/today-i-went-over-to-melissas-and-sat.html' title='circle of friends'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-6721204767065264188</id><published>2011-10-14T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T07:59:10.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pity parties suck.</title><content type='html'>It's a rainy Friday. Rain that will bring the leaves down faster, unfortunately. My MIL is coming with Jason's sister. They should be here in 3 hours. It's hard to be around people when you are going through something difficult. You tend to want to be around people that feel the same way you do. Some friends shine through--crying with you...sending you messages of encouragement. I appreciate that. It's been a week. I'm not sure how long to feel this way. I understand there isn't a time limit...but I also know I don't want to be gray for too long. Z needs me to be sunshiny. I also want to be strong for Melissa and Paige--not someone they feel also needs comfort. I'm thinking about baking a pie or two. I've been thinking about it, but haven't had the energy yet. Yesterday I slept around in a good denial phase. When I don't want to deal, I sleep. I think I slept through college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to start reading Frankenstein. My friend Jeremy emailed me he finished it. Yikes. We are suppose to discuss it...and Sleepy Hollow. I normally do my "reading" at the gym. But, this week, I haven't been going much. I want to feel better. I want this to be over. I wish it had never happened. I don't like feeling down--it makes me feel weak...it makes me feel like I used to. I'm giving myself a few more days and then I've got to pull myself out of it. The damn sky is dark today. Soon, the trees will be bare. I've got to start feeling better before that happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-6721204767065264188?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/6721204767065264188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=6721204767065264188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6721204767065264188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6721204767065264188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/10/pity-parties-suck.html' title='pity parties suck.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-506425266721301136</id><published>2011-10-13T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-13T08:20:56.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ring Them Bells</title><content type='html'>It's Thursday. The colors of the trees are bursting. It's comforting. Everything is bright and lit by sun. Been trying to figure out how to learn from this tragedy. Bill was a great example of strength, kindness and always being a guaranteed smile. I'm going to do my best to follow that example. There is a song that I listen to when I'm feeling a bit down...it cheers me up. Yes, it's silly and theatrical, but just fun. I played it for Z in the car yesterday and she loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Liza for always cheering me up--hope it does the same for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://1.gvt0.com/vi/dtJSLZnKCv0/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dtJSLZnKCv0&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dtJSLZnKCv0&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-506425266721301136?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/506425266721301136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=506425266721301136' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/506425266721301136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/506425266721301136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/10/ring-them-bells.html' title='Ring Them Bells'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-7010032848420076946</id><published>2011-10-11T14:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-11T14:24:55.435-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The funeral was today...</title><content type='html'>"Amazing tradition. They						throw a great party for you on the one day they know you can't come."&lt;br /&gt;(The Big Chill) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one of the saddest days in my history...this quote is the only thing that keeps repeating in my head. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-7010032848420076946?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/7010032848420076946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=7010032848420076946' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7010032848420076946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7010032848420076946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/10/funeral-was-today.html' title='The funeral was today...'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-1706060669713678519</id><published>2011-10-10T10:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-23T06:13:30.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Because it can happen just like that.</title><content type='html'>That's why kindness to others is so important. And being open to new experiences and new friends. To always be someone people can count on to be upbeat. To always greet people with a smile. To always offer help. To have the ability to have fun at any time. To push the limits of the human experience. To have a calming, balancing effect on people. To have people associate you with stability and hard work. To have so many know they can count on you no matter what. To do your best to make people feel at ease. To laugh each day. To tease in good fun. To be a true gentleman. To love nature and experience its beauty often. To enjoy so many things and show others how to enjoy as many as possible. To change the life for the better of those you come in contact with. To be a good friend. To be a good neighbor. To be a good husband. To be a good father.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-1706060669713678519?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/1706060669713678519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=1706060669713678519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1706060669713678519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1706060669713678519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/10/because-it-can-happen-just-like-that.html' title='Because it can happen just like that.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-6029073840532505669</id><published>2011-10-07T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T10:51:34.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'>you never know.</title><content type='html'>Two dear friends of mine were killed yesterday in a car accident outside of Scranton, NY. They were headed to NYC for a follow up visit on a Dr. appt. They'd just turned 40- 2 weeks ago. They were twins. Bill was our neighbor on the left with his wife Melissa and their daughter, Paige. And Lynn, his sister. They'd both been at my home last Saturday having margaritas and playing mexican train dominoes with Melissa. We spent many weekend evenings together--some great nights outside by a fire in the backyard. They were laid back, sweet and very easy going people.&amp;nbsp; Easy to joke with them. Easy talk just sit and talk. I will miss them both very&amp;nbsp; much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call the person you've been putting off calling.&lt;br /&gt;Hug your loved ones.&lt;br /&gt;Get over any petty fights you might be having.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard not to be angry at someone. It's hard, period. We moved to Rochester about 3 years ago now. After feeling a bit alone out here...Bill and his family made Roc home for us. Finally, we had friends to enjoy on the weekends and to see over the fence each day. We had people we so enjoyed--who shared our same interests and felt so similarly to how we feel about so many things. Just a heartbreaking shame. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-6029073840532505669?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/6029073840532505669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=6029073840532505669' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6029073840532505669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6029073840532505669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/10/two-dear-friends-of-mine-were-killed.html' title='you never know.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-403992415921454420</id><published>2011-10-05T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T17:19:43.857-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Addict</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cixoG8V0aMc/ToyGDIMmioI/AAAAAAAAHo0/B2w2LwhbabA/s1600/4727-kate01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cixoG8V0aMc/ToyGDIMmioI/AAAAAAAAHo0/B2w2LwhbabA/s320/4727-kate01.jpg" width="252" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my life I've noticed my strongest addiction is to people. I find someone I adore and almost overdose on them. I would spend all my free time with certain friends, boyfriends, even my grandparents. I see things in them that I want to be. Many times I took on parts of their personality...an homage to them, I suppose, but I'm sure it was annoying. Now, I find myself in a Katharine Hepburn addiction. Although she past away many years ago, I'm just catching up to her. She's fascinating. She's strong. She's FIERCELY independent.&amp;nbsp; I write of her in present tense because I'm reading about her as if she's alive. She's such force. I love it. I'm learning so much from her--from books, clips on youtube and movies. I feel like I'm in a class. Today, I came across her quote, "Life is hard for everyone. That is why so many fall victim to it." She was not speaking of herself. She was never a victim and refused to play roles of one. She was always active--very athletic. She loved dinner parties and tried to have her week filled with guests. I'm the same way. I love having people over and love to spend time with friends. She often gave up rooms in her home to people she wanted to spend more time with--I would do this as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I played the victim role for many years, I'm very conscious of never feeling that way again. She's a great teacher. I find myself sitting in front of the computer endlessly searching everything about her. I always take my obsessions a bit far. Thank God I never started smoking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later---&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I finished the book at the gym. I actually stopped peddling the bike and sat for a bit, tearing up. I've been watching a documentary she narrated, All About Me on Youtube and love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note: I've just learned that Steve Jobs died. What an amazing mark he left on the world. Gone too young. Amazing mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-403992415921454420?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/403992415921454420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=403992415921454420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/403992415921454420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/403992415921454420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/10/addict.html' title='Addict'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-cixoG8V0aMc/ToyGDIMmioI/AAAAAAAAHo0/B2w2LwhbabA/s72-c/4727-kate01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-6689785986944420693</id><published>2011-10-04T08:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-04T12:19:39.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dark Days</title><content type='html'>Times are hard. Times are good. It's ALWAYS the best of times and the worst. I've been lucky to look at life mostly as an adventure...with exception of my darkest days of depression. Those days I hope are over. My life is good and the daily struggles are mine, alone. I hear the hollowness of others at this time. The dark days cause so many to dip down into dreariness. It can be lonely. It can be overwhelming. It can be damned annoying hearing how someone else is doing well. I understand that. Misery does love company. In my darkness, I always knew the next day would be better. How could it be any worse??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could be that my dark 20s set me up for a good vantage point for the rest of my life--in comparison, life is good. I'll take it. I look back in horror so many times at my poor decision making and my life of self pity and selfishness. I should be thankful for the reality check of what life could be. I don't struggle to pay my bills like I used to. I don't have continuous struggles and heartbreak with my relationship. I don't have bad hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, many are struggling. Many are lonely. Many feel alone and that they have no help. I hate that. I wish I could help. I wish there was something magical I could do to make someone see some brightness. When you are in the dark...it seems as if it will always be dark. I'm here to tell you it won't be. Autumn is my favorite season, but it used to be my least favorite. It was a time of fear. I feared the long dark days and my inner demons coming out to play. I feared the holidays and having to deal with others. I feared my depression taking me over. I remember those times. I'm here for you if you need me. I've been through it. I'll listen or be a destination for you to retreat to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-6689785986944420693?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/6689785986944420693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=6689785986944420693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6689785986944420693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6689785986944420693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/10/dark-days.html' title='Dark Days'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-431166895452562691</id><published>2011-10-03T16:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T16:05:07.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More on Monday</title><content type='html'>Went to the gym today and of course listened to my audiobook- Kate Remembered. Scott's relationship with Katharine becomes so close--spending almost every weekend with her for long periods of time. She comes down from the sky into your living room. I see her as a person instead of a personality. I find her to be so rich with life. Her temper, her quick wit, her athleticism, her strong opinions--a great role model. She swam quite a bit, even with snow on the ground. She wasn't much for sitting around. She was constantly questioning and learning--and stating her own thoughts on every matter. I think she surrounded herself with young people in order to stay current with the world and with her inner young woman. Our bodies age, not our minds or how we view ourselves. Well, I think they can...but she is proof that that doesn't need to happen. I strive for that. She's even encouraged me to go to the gym more. I go almost every day now. Even if it's not 1000 calorie burn, it's toning and time alone to think. Listening to the book brings the ache back of missing my grandparents, esp my grandma. I so wish I could talk with her again- or just hear her laugh. Now is the time when I'm ready for the cooking lessons and to hear about her childhood. I was too young to know WHAT to ask her about when she was alive. I hate that. I'm used to this feeling. I'm slow to learn many things about people. I'm slow to understand them. Slow to know how to be a good friend. It takes years for me to figure it out. Kate seems to be one that figured so much out so early. This is becoming a trend. Maybe it's just me. It's frustrating to learn the hard way. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-431166895452562691?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/431166895452562691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=431166895452562691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/431166895452562691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/431166895452562691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/10/went-to-gym-today-and-of-course.html' title='More on Monday'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-6950363997989358568</id><published>2011-10-03T12:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T12:11:11.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Silent Orange</title><content type='html'>I'm writing while Z calms down from a complete meltdown. I put her in her bed until she can regain humanness.&amp;nbsp; The leaves are finally starting to change a bit more. It is silent. The wind stopped and so did the rain. My child stopped screaming. It's glorious. The pops of orange, yellow and red light up the woods behind our house. The deer eating the apples I threw out. We are far away from traffic, from family drama, from ghosts. I love it here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-6950363997989358568?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/6950363997989358568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=6950363997989358568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6950363997989358568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6950363997989358568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/10/silent-orange.html' title='Silent Orange'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-2117051124741836993</id><published>2011-10-01T14:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T14:52:46.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a dark and stormy start.</title><content type='html'>Halloween begins at the Vidmar's. I decorated the entire house while J and V played in the loft. I invited the neighbors over for margaritas and games to celebrate. It's a rainy, dark and cold Oct. 1st day. I love it. It's perfectly ghoulish!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2JZNCqZdO3Y/ToeLIsC9qzI/AAAAAAAAHow/W6busAkgBNQ/s1600/ghost_halloween__26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2JZNCqZdO3Y/ToeLIsC9qzI/AAAAAAAAHow/W6busAkgBNQ/s320/ghost_halloween__26.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the perfect "holiday"--no gifts, just candy. No family squabbles over where to stay...or what to cook. Nope. A month of pumpkin patches, haunted hayrides, too much candy and horror movies. (And a visit from Dustin and hopefully Mandi!!) Let the haunts begin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-2117051124741836993?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/2117051124741836993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=2117051124741836993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2117051124741836993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/2117051124741836993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/10/its-dark-and-stormy-start.html' title='It&apos;s a dark and stormy start.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-2JZNCqZdO3Y/ToeLIsC9qzI/AAAAAAAAHow/W6busAkgBNQ/s72-c/ghost_halloween__26.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-6105809554354866842</id><published>2011-09-28T16:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T16:30:38.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kate and me.</title><content type='html'>I'm listening to Scott Berg's Kate Remembered and loving it. Tony Goldwyn (the bad guy in Ghost) narrates and is really terrific. I'm mesmerized. I've decided to create my own little film class in conjuncture to the book. Diving into the "old" actors Kate reminisces about makes me want to know more. (I'm having a very similar reaction as I did to Just Kids by Patti Smith.) Scott also wrote three other books I'll be looking into. He wrote separate biographies of Charles Lindbergh, Samuel Goldwyn and Max Perkins. I'm so intrigued and excited. I love finding new authors. His writing is so easy and it makes you feel as if you are sitting in the room with these people. His conversations with Kate are so comfortable and charming. I found some other books that Katharine wrote about her time making The African Queen....and one about herself, "Me. Stories of My Life." Can't wait to dive into those. I love her quick wit and sharp opinions. I love her bravery. I love her strong presence of self. As Scott describes his times with Kate--many dinners, cold swims and weekends in CT, I find myself longing to be a part of it all. I want to sit with them and hear her stories and feel a true friendship blooming. She ends up having a close friendship with Berg and you can feel his true affection for her in the book. I'm thrilled that I've just started and there is much more to hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cj0qZJC-6CE/ToOqV0QO-XI/AAAAAAAAHoo/LfDcxHLQ_3o/s1600/katharine_hepburn_71503-1600x1200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cj0qZJC-6CE/ToOqV0QO-XI/AAAAAAAAHoo/LfDcxHLQ_3o/s320/katharine_hepburn_71503-1600x1200.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-6105809554354866842?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/6105809554354866842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=6105809554354866842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6105809554354866842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/6105809554354866842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/09/kate-and-me.html' title='Kate and me.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-Cj0qZJC-6CE/ToOqV0QO-XI/AAAAAAAAHoo/LfDcxHLQ_3o/s72-c/katharine_hepburn_71503-1600x1200.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-471100064136348304</id><published>2011-09-28T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T08:57:06.482-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You can't always get what you want.</title><content type='html'>During my parents' visit here, I learned how to make chocolate and coconut cream pie. I received my grandma's recipe for meringue and will cherish it. I want to be able to create memories for Z of baking and having yummy desserts. I remember going to my grandma's house and it smelling of pies. My grandparents were big on sweets and I'm helping to pass that tradition right along. We also made homemade ice cream. Delish. Smelling pies takes me back to being with my grandparents...happy memories. It's amazing how the senses cause us to go back in time. I love it. I feel like Z won't have to rely so much on her memory because we have so many pictures and videos for her to watch of the events of her life. My childhood would be so fascinating for me to see. As it is...I have a good memory thus far. Watching my parents age is upsetting. I feel like I want a direct line into my father's head to know what he is thinking and to see his memories. At times, I watched him and ached a bit knowing that he wouldn't always be here. I want to ask him a ton of questions...but he's not much for really serious conversations about his life. He reflected about working at his father's store and about walking to school after checking in the bread guys. He said he learned his multiplication from his work at the store by filling out check in sheets for the food that came in. I could sit and listen to him talk for hours. I don't see him often. He goes to Mexico for half of the year and will be traveling around the US next summer. I imagine I'll see him in two summers. Z will be almost 4. That makes me sad. No, she won't have the grandpa memories that I have--at least not on my side. But, I am all for retired people doing what they want to do before they get too old to go. They raised their kids...they should have time for themselves. It's hard for me, but I have to think about what that time in my own life will be like. I don't doubt that my father loves me...but I know he's not BIG on little ones. He's always been more interested in adults...and in fishing. Our relationship is a good one. I'm working so hard on accepting people for who they are, not how I want them to be. Some can only give so much. I'll take it and try to be the best person I can be. It's so hard not to feel cheated by time or by personal differences. There are so many hard life lessons. When it becomes too much for me to think about...I focus on Jason and Zoë. They are my family. These times will be rich and the memories, richer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-471100064136348304?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/471100064136348304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=471100064136348304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/471100064136348304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/471100064136348304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/09/you-cant-always-get-what-you-want.html' title='You can&apos;t always get what you want.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-7085594203009066553</id><published>2011-09-22T05:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T05:40:37.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Te7juUqluvA/TnssgmA-VaI/AAAAAAAAHok/JpvOEMTWzk4/s1600/DSC03146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Te7juUqluvA/TnssgmA-VaI/AAAAAAAAHok/JpvOEMTWzk4/s320/DSC03146.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Took this shot last weekend while at the cottage. Just love it. A lone tree in a corn field. Something about it is hopeful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-7085594203009066553?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/7085594203009066553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=7085594203009066553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7085594203009066553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7085594203009066553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/09/took-this-shot-last-weekend-while-at.html' title=''/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-Te7juUqluvA/TnssgmA-VaI/AAAAAAAAHok/JpvOEMTWzk4/s72-c/DSC03146.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-8239175351361548100</id><published>2011-09-20T09:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-20T09:20:50.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My favorite mistake</title><content type='html'>My niece called me a couple of nights ago to tell me she has her first boyfriend. I cringed. That sounds awful...but now, it begins. She is 16 and already insecure about the relationship. Ugh. She called last night because he tried to kiss her and she wasn't ready. She felt bad about it and worried he'd treat her differently. Man, at 36 it is complicated, but at 16 it is your life. I told her not to worry. I told her to down play the whole thing. "Guys like mystery...you're being mysterious, no big deal." That seemed to help. I'm not sure what they have in common, but he likes her. Do we really have anything in common with our first boyfriends? I think out of all the guys I dated...I had most in common with 2 of them. That's it. The rest were me trying to fit a square peg into a round hold. Some good times, but more not so good times. She is beautiful but so insecure...a bad mixture at this point. But, trying to see the positive...I wrote her to say, "It all begins now...the butterflies, the new feelings...enjoy and learn." It takes so long to figure all of it out. Overall, the ones that made me laugh were the ones that I have more heart ties to. Laughter is the key to me. Life is too short of worrying if he'll call or text...if he's upset...if he still likes you...crap. It's all going to happen to her. It's part of it. I told her to journal how she felt. I told her NOT to go text crazy. "Let him be the last text and you'll feel much better when you go to bed." HA. I was none of those things. I was such a crazy whacko young girl. There's much to learn from my mistakes. Yet, she's going to remember this time forever. Her heart is about to grow in different directions and she's going to feel things she's never felt. Ain't love grand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-8239175351361548100?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/8239175351361548100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=8239175351361548100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8239175351361548100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/8239175351361548100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-favorite-mistake.html' title='My favorite mistake'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-1913657444468321482</id><published>2011-09-16T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-16T13:40:12.697-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sign</title><content type='html'>We are headed out tonight for PA. We have family friends with a cottage in the woods. It is a welcomed break. J has been super busy and I could use some time in nature to just breath. I feel like I've been short with little Z. I've been exhausted lately. Could be the change in weather. I put on the flannel sheets--a true sign of Fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listened to Steve Martin at the 92nd St. Y. He struggled with a relationship with his father. He was very tight lipped about it. At the end of the conversation with Charlie Rose, he said that after he wrote an article about his father for the New Yorker, he received a note from a woman who wrote to tell him, "I read your article. I handed it to my husband to read. When he was done, he put the article on his lap and said, "do you have our son's number?" Steve paused before saying her last words...tears came to him. He said he was happy that he could make a difference in a relationship. I was at the gym...crying on the bike. He quickly followed up with Charlie by saying, "Is this about over?? Much longer and I'll be killing myself." I laughed out loud. I'm sure the other people in the gym think I'm crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Use this as your sign to call someone you've been meaning to call.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-1913657444468321482?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/1913657444468321482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=1913657444468321482' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1913657444468321482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1913657444468321482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/09/sign.html' title='A Sign'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-4142894101737472071</id><published>2011-09-14T09:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T09:08:35.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Diamonds and Rust</title><content type='html'>I listened to Joan Baez speak at the 92nd Street Y (2007) and really enjoyed it. She has a song titled, Diamonds and Rust that she played on the broadcast and I immediately had a very strong reaction to it. It filled me with such sadness. Almost odd. I called my mom to ask if she used to play it when I was a little girl. She said she did...along with many other songs. My father is also a huge Joan fan. He emailed me about his favorite albums of hers. I downloaded some of her music and have been listening. Every time Diamonds and Rust comes on I want to cry. I wonder what that's about?? Here are the lyrics;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be damned &lt;br /&gt;Here comes your ghost again &lt;br /&gt;But that's not unusual &lt;br /&gt;It's just that the moon is full &lt;br /&gt;And you happened to call &lt;br /&gt;And here I sit &lt;br /&gt;Hand on the telephone &lt;br /&gt;Hearing a voice I'd known &lt;br /&gt;A couple of light years ago &lt;br /&gt;Heading straight for a fall &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I remember your eyes &lt;br /&gt;Were bluer than robin's eggs &lt;br /&gt;My poetry was lousy you said &lt;br /&gt;Where are you calling from? &lt;br /&gt;A booth in the midwest &lt;br /&gt;Ten years ago &lt;br /&gt;I bought you some cufflinks &lt;br /&gt;You brought me something &lt;br /&gt;We both know what memories can bring &lt;br /&gt;They bring diamonds and rust &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well you burst on the scene &lt;br /&gt;Already a legend &lt;br /&gt;The unwashed phenomenon &lt;br /&gt;The original vagabond &lt;br /&gt;You strayed into my arms &lt;br /&gt;And there you stayed &lt;br /&gt;Temporarily lost at sea &lt;br /&gt;The Madonna was yours for free &lt;br /&gt;Yes the girl on the half-shell &lt;br /&gt;Would keep you unharmed &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I see you standing &lt;br /&gt;With brown leaves falling around &lt;br /&gt;And snow in your hair &lt;br /&gt;Now you're smiling out the window &lt;br /&gt;Of that crummy hotel &lt;br /&gt;Over Washington Square &lt;br /&gt;Our breath comes out white clouds &lt;br /&gt;Mingles and hangs in the air &lt;br /&gt;Speaking strictly for me &lt;br /&gt;We both could have died then and there &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you're telling me &lt;br /&gt;You're not nostalgic &lt;br /&gt;Then give me another word for it &lt;br /&gt;You who are so good with words &lt;br /&gt;And at keeping things vague &lt;br /&gt;Because I need some of that vagueness now &lt;br /&gt;It's all come back too clearly &lt;br /&gt;Yes I loved you dearly &lt;br /&gt;And if you're offering me diamonds and rust &lt;br /&gt;I've already paid&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I understand songs about memories and old friends more now. I have my own memories of friends and cities and feelings felt earlier in life. To reflect on different times of ones life is so powerful. In my 20s I was creating these memories...to listen to music then was so different. Now, even only at 36, I feel a history of experience. I have felt more ups and downs. I've left friends and lovers and have grown into myself more. The depth of emotion brought upon by music is a gift.&amp;nbsp; Everything seems richer now. I think it's just the maturing process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the weekend watching 9/11 documentaries and specials. 10 years later it has such a different effect on me. I was a month into living in Chicago and was still adjusting when it happened. Living in a big city was overwhelming. I was with my friend Amanda...we were two Kansas girls alone in the big city and I think it was hard to really absorb what was happening. To watch the broadcast now...it's a new experience. I sat and cried. Now being a wife and mother...it takes on another meaning to me. Life continues to mold me. My experiences continue to alter my sense of reality and understanding. It's amazing, really. It is true...the more you know, the more you realize how little you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our friend Chris Spiek visited us last night. He was in town from Chicago. He was one of the first guys I became friends with after I moved to Chicago. My friend Jeremy introduced us. Jeremy and I were in our honeymoon stage of our friendship and spent our time singing, laughing and cuddling. They were roommates. Chris introduced me to John Mayer's music after he'd come home from his concert at the House of Blues. I sat talking to these very open hearted men and felt..."yes, I found the right type of people." Both loved music and could really speak about their feelings. I told Chris this last night. He really appreciated knowing. He's now married with a little one and doing well...still in Chicago. It's great to reconnect with old friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you get a chance. Listen to Diamonds and Rust. See if it has an effect on you. My favorite lines are the opening lines "Well I'll be damned here comes your ghost again"&amp;nbsp; and these--- "Now I see you standing with brown leaves falling around and snow in your hair. Now you're smiling out the window of that crummy hotel over Washington Square..." &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-4142894101737472071?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/4142894101737472071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=4142894101737472071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4142894101737472071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4142894101737472071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/09/diamonds-and-rust.html' title='Diamonds and Rust'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-7144766868281494093</id><published>2011-09-10T06:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-10T16:24:08.189-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall in upstate NY...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hIKuPT6s3Xg/Tmtr_c5yZqI/AAAAAAAAHog/OLk1LAbmoT0/s1600/FallNY.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hIKuPT6s3Xg/Tmtr_c5yZqI/AAAAAAAAHog/OLk1LAbmoT0/s320/FallNY.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;In B/W, although it takes the color out of it, I really love this picture. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-7144766868281494093?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/7144766868281494093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=7144766868281494093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7144766868281494093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/7144766868281494093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/09/fall-in-upstate-ny.html' title='Fall in upstate NY...'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-hIKuPT6s3Xg/Tmtr_c5yZqI/AAAAAAAAHog/OLk1LAbmoT0/s72-c/FallNY.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-4261276747828112203</id><published>2011-09-09T08:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T08:44:14.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wk26kw4dF8k/Tmo0Qrdzp5I/AAAAAAAAHoc/a8vVL271dGU/s1600/tumblr_hbc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wk26kw4dF8k/Tmo0Qrdzp5I/AAAAAAAAHoc/a8vVL271dGU/s320/tumblr_hbc.jpg" width="224" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-4261276747828112203?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/4261276747828112203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=4261276747828112203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4261276747828112203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/4261276747828112203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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/-wk26kw4dF8k/Tmo0Qrdzp5I/AAAAAAAAHoc/a8vVL271dGU/s72-c/tumblr_hbc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14872659.post-31971485411862471</id><published>2011-09-09T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T08:30:29.902-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The perfect Autumn blog find.</title><content type='html'>I love Johnny Depp and Tim Burton and dark, fun things. I'm not as into Harry Potter...yet, but it will happen soon. This blog has so many fun pics, clips and whackness that I wanted to share it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://claudiaandthepurpledinosaur.tumblr.com/"&gt;http://claudiaandthepurpledinosaur.tumblr.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy. And thank you Claudia!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-31971485411862471?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/31971485411862471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=31971485411862471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/31971485411862471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/31971485411862471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/09/perfect-autumn-blog-find.html' title='The perfect Autumn blog find.'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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-14872659.post-1017032316088234316</id><published>2011-09-08T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T18:11:16.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heaven Can Wait</title><content type='html'>I thought today was Friday. My days are running together. Last night, I soaked in a hot bubble bath and listened to Eckhart Tolle's book "Transmuting Suffering into Peace." Can't hurt, right? His voice is about as soothing as you can get. I was so relaxed. I'd like to try to meditate in the future. It's hard with a toddler. Whew. But, I'm going to try. Tolle's book is about as close as I can get right now. I first heard about Tolle on Oprah. She read A New Earth and loved it. I bought that one as well. I signed up for the class and really enjoyed it. I just signed up for her new Lifeclass. I'm going to get some education wherever I can. I was in the first million to sign up, so she's sending me a journal to use in the class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep thinking about something Alice Walker said in her conversation with Wilma and Gloria. She said that heaven is now. There is nothing after we die. God lives inside of us. Why would you live your life knowing that the after life is better than what you are living? Interesting point. She and Gloria made it pretty obvious that they are not monotheistic. "It drives me crazy!" said Gloria. I do agree with the idea that religion can be dangerous. Jason also doesn't believe in heaven or hell. He's not sure about the God part. I am. I do believe God is inside of us. I am not monotheistic either.&amp;nbsp; I don't know about heaven or hell. I just know that there are people I want to see again. I long for my grandparents every day. I also miss my friend. If our spirits can find one another after this world, I'm all for it. I don't need the promise of pearly gates. I just want to be hugged again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They joke (sort of) about the fact that religion is man's way of saying, "ok, a woman can give life...but man can give you everlasting life." A way of upping us. Men are jealous that we can have babies. Also, the point was made that most places of worship are shaped in the same way a woman is shaped.&amp;nbsp; (Ok, visualize this...) Three entry ways into an aisle (canal), two bodies on each side (ovaries), to the alter where a man promises you life (our womb). Can you see it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14872659-1017032316088234316?l=pennylane64.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/feeds/1017032316088234316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14872659&amp;postID=1017032316088234316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1017032316088234316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14872659/posts/default/1017032316088234316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pennylane64.blogspot.com/2011/09/heaven-can-wait.html' title='Heaven Can Wait'/><author><name>Valerie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12651403921908546229</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></feed>
