<?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-6358222806243492317</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:05:39.011-05:00</updated><category term='the apocolypse'/><category term='Moving'/><category term='MacBook'/><category term='Work'/><category term='Da Cats'/><category term='Rants'/><category term='Kitty Fodder'/><category term='Ramblings'/><category term='Man-Eating Moths'/><category term='Stupid People'/><category term='Lori'/><category term='USF Bulls'/><title type='text'>IT'S JUST NOT MY DAY!</title><subtitle type='html'>Confessions of a lovable klutz.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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>29</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-8448377629471352528</id><published>2008-11-13T16:33:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T16:42:03.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"TASTYKAKES"???</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SRydTKOLWSI/AAAAAAAAAdE/UooXqDB7F5I/s1600-h/IMG_0201.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 325px; height: 433px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SRydTKOLWSI/AAAAAAAAAdE/UooXqDB7F5I/s320/IMG_0201.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268258616603531554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to think, all these years I've just been flushing all my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cookie Sticks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt; down the toilet!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only I had known they were marketable.&lt;br /&gt;I could've been RICH!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-8448377629471352528?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/8448377629471352528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=8448377629471352528' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/8448377629471352528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/8448377629471352528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/11/tastykakes.html' title='&quot;TASTYKAKES&quot;???'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SRydTKOLWSI/AAAAAAAAAdE/UooXqDB7F5I/s72-c/IMG_0201.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-249429597230674469</id><published>2008-11-05T11:05:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T11:17:03.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SEPARATED AT BIRTH?</title><content type='html'>While we were watching the election last night, Cokie Roberts came on the TV.   I noticed that she reminded me of someone, but I just couldn't place who.   Then it hit me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pulled up these two pictures to show &lt;a href="http://imnotcrazyjustwellmixed.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lori&lt;/a&gt; and after she finished laughing, informed me that I had to put up a post of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SRHFOn0DefI/AAAAAAAAAc0/PSjgAJSYpm4/s1600-h/grinch_santa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 337px; height: 251px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SRHFOn0DefI/AAAAAAAAAc0/PSjgAJSYpm4/s320/grinch_santa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265206294368975346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SRHFTIw0DsI/AAAAAAAAAc8/orwYqUyBVrQ/s1600-h/Cokie+Roberts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 189px; height: 237px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SRHFTIw0DsI/AAAAAAAAAc8/orwYqUyBVrQ/s320/Cokie+Roberts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265206371933228738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually like Cokie Roberts, and kinda feel bad about this.   So I'm putting the blame on &lt;a href="http://imnotcrazyjustwellmixed.blogspot.com/"&gt;my wife&lt;/a&gt;.  LOL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-249429597230674469?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/249429597230674469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=249429597230674469' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/249429597230674469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/249429597230674469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/11/separated-at-birth.html' title='SEPARATED AT BIRTH?'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SRHFOn0DefI/AAAAAAAAAc0/PSjgAJSYpm4/s72-c/grinch_santa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-8296033056560796206</id><published>2008-11-04T10:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T13:38:01.535-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What are you doing reading this? Go Vote!!!</title><content type='html'>Ok.  Watch this video live from Manassas last night, then go do the right thing!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/r_ajLsajACk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/r_ajLsajACk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-8296033056560796206?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/8296033056560796206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=8296033056560796206' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/8296033056560796206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/8296033056560796206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-are-you-doing-reading-this-go-vote_04.html' title='What are you doing reading this? Go Vote!!!'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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-6358222806243492317.post-4079608549421272487</id><published>2008-10-28T16:18:00.042-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T22:44:56.618-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The 'Rents come to Visit</title><content type='html'>Man, I realized how lazy I've become with my posts lately. Sorry about that. I promise I'll try harder in the future. (Please don't beat me again, I'll be good).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the weekend in pictures Part Deux that Lori promised you  a couple of weeks ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THURSDAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These crazy kids came to visit US for THEIR 44th wedding anniversary.  I know, you're jealous.   Don't be - they wore us out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQebdFisHDI/AAAAAAAAAY8/zbpcU-zsn4o/s1600-h/Mom+and+Dad+Shenandoah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQebdFisHDI/AAAAAAAAAY8/zbpcU-zsn4o/s320/Mom+and+Dad+Shenandoah.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262345613611899954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday night - ate here.  (Yeh, seafood in Virginia) and the lobster bisque made us all extremely happy.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQecQUdWxQI/AAAAAAAAAZE/rcuWKzgfS4I/s1600-h/Blueridge+seafood.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 207px; height: 271px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQecQUdWxQI/AAAAAAAAAZE/rcuWKzgfS4I/s320/Blueridge+seafood.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262346493789390082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FRIDAY&lt;br /&gt;Lori worked while we immersed ourselves in history at the Bull Run Battlefield.  Look at Jackson standing there like a stone wall!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQecksphHbI/AAAAAAAAAZU/rjPddAsWuhk/s1600-h/Stonewall+Jackson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQecksphHbI/AAAAAAAAAZU/rjPddAsWuhk/s320/Stonewall+Jackson.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262346843880234418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQecZxPLmfI/AAAAAAAAAZM/haIlECHhrcw/s1600-h/Bull+Run+battlefield.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQecZxPLmfI/AAAAAAAAAZM/haIlECHhrcw/s320/Bull+Run+battlefield.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262346656133388786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Explored Great Falls National Park and found that it was indeed Great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQedJheTOEI/AAAAAAAAAZc/drLvRWtZSsM/s1600-h/Matt+Approves+of+Great+Falls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQedJheTOEI/AAAAAAAAAZc/drLvRWtZSsM/s320/Matt+Approves+of+Great+Falls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262347476535556162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anniversary dinner at "Carmello's".....be jealous.  Very very jealous.  Who knew you could mix Portuguese and Italian?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQedWpRlHsI/AAAAAAAAAZk/R7cDNnCcYPI/s1600-h/Carmellos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 172px; height: 222px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQedWpRlHsI/AAAAAAAAAZk/R7cDNnCcYPI/s320/Carmellos.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262347701967986370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SATURDAY&lt;br /&gt;Back to the cabin in WV.  At peace with nature.  Ohmmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQedxi_23yI/AAAAAAAAAZs/6sJMaBFVI7Q/s1600-h/Anne+%26+Jay%27s+Cabin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQedxi_23yI/AAAAAAAAAZs/6sJMaBFVI7Q/s320/Anne+%26+Jay%27s+Cabin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262348164139507490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apple Butter Festival in Berkeley Springs, WV.  Lori Looooves her some apple butter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe2IS6dgbI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/dve75oIriPc/s1600-h/Making+Apple+Butter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe2IS6dgbI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/dve75oIriPc/s320/Making+Apple+Butter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262374943237964210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe1xeAIL8I/AAAAAAAAAZ0/sZKS7uN0Cbc/s1600-h/Apple+Butter+Festival+Sign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe1xeAIL8I/AAAAAAAAAZ0/sZKS7uN0Cbc/s320/Apple+Butter+Festival+Sign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262374551077531586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MMMMMmmmm….pork sammiches.  Th-Th-That's all folks!! (not really, there's more)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe4sQsbRSI/AAAAAAAAAac/8YQyZR0Gs_A/s1600-h/Roasting+Pig.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe4sQsbRSI/AAAAAAAAAac/8YQyZR0Gs_A/s320/Roasting+Pig.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262377760140772642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random man scared of me coming back with some homemade lemonade.  I seem to have that effect on people sometimes.  LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe48hTP9pI/AAAAAAAAAak/6HLWrxUL_YE/s1600-h/Scared+guy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 199px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe48hTP9pI/AAAAAAAAAak/6HLWrxUL_YE/s320/Scared+guy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262378039476483730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Berkeley Springs has the smallest National Park in the U.S.   For real...  No, seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe3qRzeSFI/AAAAAAAAAaM/0i0Si-Cy2QE/s1600-h/Mom+and+I+at+the+Berkeley+Springs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe3qRzeSFI/AAAAAAAAAaM/0i0Si-Cy2QE/s320/Mom+and+I+at+the+Berkeley+Springs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262376626567399506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe38igUgyI/AAAAAAAAAaU/IMZqViUusYE/s1600-h/Lori+at+Springs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe38igUgyI/AAAAAAAAAaU/IMZqViUusYE/s320/Lori+at+Springs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262376940288115490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George Washington’s Bath Tub…Really?  That's what they tell me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe2tYeXZOI/AAAAAAAAAaE/6kbx6YmWY8c/s1600-h/George+Washington%27s+Bath+Tub.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 259px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe2tYeXZOI/AAAAAAAAAaE/6kbx6YmWY8c/s320/George+Washington%27s+Bath+Tub.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262375580385895650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooooooo, nature's mirror.  Nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe8GUe_wkI/AAAAAAAAAas/Kga0FOMo-rY/s1600-h/Woods+Reflection.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe8GUe_wkI/AAAAAAAAAas/Kga0FOMo-rY/s320/Woods+Reflection.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262381506369667650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GUMMI BEAR TREE!&lt;br /&gt;(Lori swears that these trees look like a bag of gummi bears)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfN8FQmCQI/AAAAAAAAAck/6S189GmHCTc/s1600-h/Gummi+Tree+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 258px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfN8FQmCQI/AAAAAAAAAck/6S189GmHCTc/s320/Gummi+Tree+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262401121693337858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday Night - Dinner and s’mores around the campfire.&lt;br /&gt;(Lori plans on practicing her s’more making at home in the fireplace.  She will NOT be out-s’mored!)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe-B5nCRHI/AAAAAAAAAa8/4lnfgbw24I8/s1600-h/Campfire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe-B5nCRHI/AAAAAAAAAa8/4lnfgbw24I8/s320/Campfire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262383629459407986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe-UqEay7I/AAAAAAAAAbE/AveWx9P2e0Q/s1600-h/Mom+and+Dad+by+Campfire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe-UqEay7I/AAAAAAAAAbE/AveWx9P2e0Q/s320/Mom+and+Dad+by+Campfire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262383951705197490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne was kind enough to play the harmonica for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe_JWrrpAI/AAAAAAAAAbM/3lsHGGl4vNc/s1600-h/Anne+Harmonica.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe_JWrrpAI/AAAAAAAAAbM/3lsHGGl4vNc/s320/Anne+Harmonica.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262384857034236930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SUNDAY:&lt;br /&gt;Off to the Shenandoah Valley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very Pretty!  (See what I did there?  I could be talking about the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;women&lt;/span&gt; OR the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;valley&lt;/span&gt;.  I'm getting the hang of this thing called marriage.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfAYrMcp9I/AAAAAAAAAbc/mBkdGCRa_10/s1600-h/Mom+and+Lori+looking+at+valley.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfAYrMcp9I/AAAAAAAAAbc/mBkdGCRa_10/s320/Mom+and+Lori+looking+at+valley.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262386219750041554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe_uahSiCI/AAAAAAAAAbU/_S__j7FlT24/s1600-h/Valley+and+Tree2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 221px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQe_uahSiCI/AAAAAAAAAbU/_S__j7FlT24/s320/Valley+and+Tree2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262385493719549986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The color of the trees were awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfBqMFWzJI/AAAAAAAAAbk/RCcdog5CPWU/s1600-h/Pretty+Tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfBqMFWzJI/AAAAAAAAAbk/RCcdog5CPWU/s320/Pretty+Tree.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262387620148071570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfHLZ3-fzI/AAAAAAAAAbs/FcFLffCL8dU/s1600-h/Trees.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfHLZ3-fzI/AAAAAAAAAbs/FcFLffCL8dU/s320/Trees.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262393688343871282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lori, Dad and I went hiking in the Shenandoah Valley and saw...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfIECn5BNI/AAAAAAAAAb0/JRdt0CAUVTo/s1600-h/Dad+and+Matt+Hiking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfIECn5BNI/AAAAAAAAAb0/JRdt0CAUVTo/s320/Dad+and+Matt+Hiking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262394661354931410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfIahk1w2I/AAAAAAAAAb8/s6zlmFB1gfA/s1600-h/Fallen+Leaves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfIahk1w2I/AAAAAAAAAb8/s6zlmFB1gfA/s320/Fallen+Leaves.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262395047620756322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BOOBS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfJeX4gmAI/AAAAAAAAAcE/8lKpeTqShp0/s1600-h/Dolly+Parton+Tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfJeX4gmAI/AAAAAAAAAcE/8lKpeTqShp0/s320/Dolly+Parton+Tree.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262396213250004994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't look now, but... seriously don't look.  Nature calls.  And whatever you do, don't take a...  picture (too late).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfKPbiQH2I/AAAAAAAAAcM/dzy4lSA_o5U/s1600-h/Matt+Nature+Calls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfKPbiQH2I/AAAAAAAAAcM/dzy4lSA_o5U/s320/Matt+Nature+Calls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262397056043982690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy Couple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfKxLbg_dI/AAAAAAAAAcU/JxXJYfobw48/s1600-h/Matt+%26+Lori+Shenandoah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfKxLbg_dI/AAAAAAAAAcU/JxXJYfobw48/s320/Matt+%26+Lori+Shenandoah.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262397635836313042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy Family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfLt1pE33I/AAAAAAAAAcc/4oe3EFvDVwk/s1600-h/Happy+Family.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SQfLt1pE33I/AAAAAAAAAcc/4oe3EFvDVwk/s320/Happy+Family.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262398677959630706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE END.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-4079608549421272487?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/4079608549421272487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=4079608549421272487' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/4079608549421272487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/4079608549421272487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/10/rents-come-to-visit.html' title='The &apos;Rents come to Visit'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SQebdFisHDI/AAAAAAAAAY8/zbpcU-zsn4o/s72-c/Mom+and+Dad+Shenandoah.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-1984153897204203952</id><published>2008-10-01T21:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T22:00:55.485-04:00</updated><title type='text'>DAMN YOU, COLD WEATHER!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SOQrNNVSf3I/AAAAAAAAAWM/SSo0vruwvpw/s1600-h/wedding+band.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 198px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SOQrNNVSf3I/AAAAAAAAAWM/SSo0vruwvpw/s320/wedding+band.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252370571338088306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Seriously. I didn't even make it 6 months. I've already lost my wedding band. I've noticed since we got to Virginia, and the weather has been cooler, my band has been a lot looser on my finger. We went shopping last night at the mall, and on the way home, I realized I was missing something. We went back into every store and looked everywhere, but to no avail. So until I find a replacement, I have a non-tanned outline on my ring finger to remind me of my eternal carelessness. Like I need a reminder of that.      : (&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-1984153897204203952?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/1984153897204203952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=1984153897204203952' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/1984153897204203952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/1984153897204203952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/10/damn-you-cold-weather.html' title='DAMN YOU, COLD WEATHER!!'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SOQrNNVSf3I/AAAAAAAAAWM/SSo0vruwvpw/s72-c/wedding+band.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-1373473135268824215</id><published>2008-09-12T10:37:00.020-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T11:20:23.523-04:00</updated><title type='text'>RANDOM PICTURES Part 1</title><content type='html'>I was looking through the pictures I've taken with my iPhone since I got it, and thought I'd share some of the funnier ones with you.  They made me laugh, at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMp_oUGozEI/AAAAAAAAAT8/0e6pGM-FHnI/s1600-h/Stick+it+in.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 346px; height: 162px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMp_oUGozEI/AAAAAAAAAT8/0e6pGM-FHnI/s200/Stick+it+in.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245145046594407490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unintentional sex talk on a bumber sticker. &lt;br /&gt;"Well, it is the law, and I'm an upstanding citizen." (no pun intended)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMqAPEIhH-I/AAAAAAAAAUE/0wpk2VttAu8/s1600-h/Dunkin+Doggies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 354px; height: 196px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMqAPEIhH-I/AAAAAAAAAUE/0wpk2VttAu8/s200/Dunkin+Doggies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245145712322224098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DUNKIN' DOGGIES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mobile pet grooming... or euthanization service?  You be the judge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMqBLo5ooVI/AAAAAAAAAUM/ZRdmFBM_chk/s1600-h/GP+Track.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 199px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMqBLo5ooVI/AAAAAAAAAUM/ZRdmFBM_chk/s320/GP+Track.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245146752984064338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMqCPS-o7_I/AAAAAAAAAUU/Ch5JEA3wRCI/s1600-h/Track+Crossing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 203px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMqCPS-o7_I/AAAAAAAAAUU/Ch5JEA3wRCI/s320/Track+Crossing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245147915330580466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;HANDICAPPED TRACK CROSSING?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a chuckle out of this one I took at the St. Pete Grand Prix.  Notice the race car in the picture going 200 mph.  The little blue sign on the fence reads: Handicapped Track Crossing.  "Come on Grandma, you can make it across if you hurry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMqFDtIa9mI/AAAAAAAAAUc/H5eLkpAHOvE/s1600-h/Dad+Bag.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 199px; height: 253px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMqFDtIa9mI/AAAAAAAAAUc/H5eLkpAHOvE/s320/Dad+Bag.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245151014727382626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;PARENTS ARE EMBARRASSING AT ANY AGE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of the St. Pete Grand Prix, I took my dad with me and it started to rain.  Sans umbrella, he came up with this lovely idea.  (hiding my face in my hands)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMqFn9etNXI/AAAAAAAAAU0/Y4uzpvNpaY4/s1600-h/Robotooth.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 210px; height: 280px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMqFn9etNXI/AAAAAAAAAU0/Y4uzpvNpaY4/s320/Robotooth.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245151637591111026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ROBO-TOOTH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the dentist to get a root canal, and they didn't bother to ask if I wanted a silver or white cap.  You can see what they picked out for me.  **bling bling**  I started calling it Robo-tooth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMqFM69PzMI/AAAAAAAAAUk/TowqFVv1iW8/s1600-h/Banana+Slicer.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMqFM69PzMI/AAAAAAAAAUk/TowqFVv1iW8/s320/Banana+Slicer.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245151173057432770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A BANANA SLICER?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you really need this, you should seriously re-evaluate your life.  That's pretty much the end for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMqFVmJrP7I/AAAAAAAAAUs/wLN1Dj5Ehsk/s1600-h/Eutaw.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 307px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SMqFVmJrP7I/AAAAAAAAAUs/wLN1Dj5Ehsk/s320/Eutaw.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245151322091241394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;EUTAW STREET IN BALTIMORE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey boss, how do you spell Utah again?... uh boss... oh, you're busy?  I'll just figure it out on my own then."  Sarah was gracious enough to take Lori and I to an Orioles game, and we all got a chuckle out of this sign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TO BE CONTINUED...&lt;br /&gt;p.s.  I don't know why the spacing between pictures is so off.  I haven't mastered the whole Blogger layout yet apparently.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-1373473135268824215?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/1373473135268824215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=1373473135268824215' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/1373473135268824215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/1373473135268824215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/09/random-pictures-part-1.html' title='RANDOM PICTURES Part 1'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SMp_oUGozEI/AAAAAAAAAT8/0e6pGM-FHnI/s72-c/Stick+it+in.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-4085780327308805166</id><published>2008-09-03T16:00:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T16:10:54.814-04:00</updated><title type='text'>BIG NEWS!!</title><content type='html'>I was going to write about our awesome Labor Day weekend today, but instead, I'm going to tell you some good news!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SL7uCw6I0BI/AAAAAAAAATs/AjqPvdeKM1A/s1600-h/mortgage_fee_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 193px; height: 193px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SL7uCw6I0BI/AAAAAAAAATs/AjqPvdeKM1A/s320/mortgage_fee_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241888747561734162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yesterday, we talked to a mortgage lender and by the end of the day, we found out we were approved for a house!!  YAY!!  Go us!  (Now we just have to find the house).  This is a load off both of our minds, since I haven't been working in the area yet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which leads me to more good news!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SL7uPe8CkZI/AAAAAAAAAT0/wYCekEnWquM/s1600-h/Edit+Suite.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 263px; height: 176px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SL7uPe8CkZI/AAAAAAAAAT0/wYCekEnWquM/s200/Edit+Suite.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241888966076174738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I got my first freelance editing job!  I start tomorrow morning at 9:30.  The production company owner told me it would probably be a couple days a week, which is great, because it will leave me more time to find other freelance opportunities.  I'm very excited to be working again in the field I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good times!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-4085780327308805166?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/4085780327308805166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=4085780327308805166' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/4085780327308805166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/4085780327308805166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/09/big-news.html' title='BIG NEWS!!'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SL7uCw6I0BI/AAAAAAAAATs/AjqPvdeKM1A/s72-c/mortgage_fee_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-837870148927118082</id><published>2008-09-02T17:36:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T17:49:18.464-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sarah Palin-Fey</title><content type='html'>While half paying attention to the news the other night, for about 30 seconds, I thought that John McCain had chosen former Saturday Night Live star Tina Fey to be his running mate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SL2zvJxiIII/AAAAAAAAATc/Ne-M_iTlvSA/s1600-h/large_palin_sarah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 321px; height: 238px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SL2zvJxiIII/AAAAAAAAATc/Ne-M_iTlvSA/s320/large_palin_sarah.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241543163988025474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SL2z5L1MjTI/AAAAAAAAATk/5w1pvYIUl-U/s1600-h/300.fey.tina.042208.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SL2z5L1MjTI/AAAAAAAAATk/5w1pvYIUl-U/s320/300.fey.tina.042208.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241543336338951474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I realized that it couldn't be her, because Tina Fey is smart enough not to run for Vice President, especially with John McCain.   (Although she still may be more qualified than Sarah Palin).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-837870148927118082?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/837870148927118082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=837870148927118082' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/837870148927118082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/837870148927118082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/09/sarah-palin-fey.html' title='Sarah Palin-Fey'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SL2zvJxiIII/AAAAAAAAATc/Ne-M_iTlvSA/s72-c/large_palin_sarah.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-5495920484411690501</id><published>2008-08-28T12:04:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T12:35:59.973-04:00</updated><title type='text'>MAYBE A LITTLE TOO DESCRIPTIVE?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SLbOi0opWvI/AAAAAAAAAS0/F-1-DQXK3Dg/s1600-h/Anaconda.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SLbOi0opWvI/AAAAAAAAAS0/F-1-DQXK3Dg/s320/Anaconda.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239602314132151026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I ran across this ad for a new application for the iPhone this morning while updating my current applications.  It's for a game called Anaconda.  All seemed normal, until I read the description:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SLbP2kJYkHI/AAAAAAAAATE/QovKQdIBBZY/s1600-h/Anaconda+Description.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 398px; height: 66px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SLbP2kJYkHI/AAAAAAAAATE/QovKQdIBBZY/s320/Anaconda+Description.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239603752815071346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"TRY TO STAY ALIVE WHILE YOUR SNAKE GETS LONGER AND FASTER.  HOW LONG CAN YOU SURVIVE?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Lori can tell you, I'm always finding humor in unintentional places.  This one cracked me up on many levels:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. It's the story of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Is this game brought to you by &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Viagra?&lt;/span&gt;  Because if not, it needs to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  If you have to worry about staying alive in the process, you probably have more serious issues to deal with.&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/6358222806243492317-5495920484411690501?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/5495920484411690501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=5495920484411690501' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/5495920484411690501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/5495920484411690501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/08/maybe-too-decsriptive.html' title='MAYBE A LITTLE TOO DESCRIPTIVE?'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SLbOi0opWvI/AAAAAAAAAS0/F-1-DQXK3Dg/s72-c/Anaconda.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-7399871439306596236</id><published>2008-08-26T12:41:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T12:52:28.142-04:00</updated><title type='text'>THE SIGN SAYS IT ALL...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SLQ0RwsTv-I/AAAAAAAAASo/Oczsp0_SwkE/s1600-h/IMG_0158.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SLQ0RwsTv-I/AAAAAAAAASo/Oczsp0_SwkE/s320/IMG_0158.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238869746271895522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think I'm going to steal this phrase off a sign trying to sell rotten bananas and make this my official motto:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It kinda fits, and it's pretty damn funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.   Note to grocery store:  I don't care how cheap you mark them down, I'm still not buying your brown mushy bananas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-7399871439306596236?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/7399871439306596236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=7399871439306596236' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/7399871439306596236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/7399871439306596236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/08/sign-says-it-all.html' title='THE SIGN SAYS IT ALL...'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SLQ0RwsTv-I/AAAAAAAAASo/Oczsp0_SwkE/s72-c/IMG_0158.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-3925578905996148984</id><published>2008-08-22T12:03:00.014-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T12:50:11.440-04:00</updated><title type='text'>TEXTING 101</title><content type='html'>I just arrived back in Virginia after spending a week in St. Petersburg.  I had a freelance job with my former employer for a few days, and ended up staying a few days longer to see my parents, who returned from two weeks in Russia on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SK7pOs0zhZI/AAAAAAAAARo/a19PgwBglmQ/s1600-h/texting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 157px; height: 157px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SK7pOs0zhZI/AAAAAAAAARo/a19PgwBglmQ/s200/texting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237379855438546322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They had a few requests for me when they got back.  One of these was to teach them how to text, or as dad calls it, how to "text message".   I had a feeling this would be a challenge, but they actually took to it pretty well, until....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SK7qqnJVnqI/AAAAAAAAASI/cnyyB60oZ1s/s1600-h/mom+texting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 217px; height: 217px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SK7qqnJVnqI/AAAAAAAAASI/cnyyB60oZ1s/s200/mom+texting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237381434462019234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Picture us all sitting in the living room, me running back and forth to help each one with texts to each other, when mom asks if I can help her change her ringtone.  "Sure", I say, and sit down to help her with it.  Meanwhile, dad was fully engrossed in his phone, fingers flying (I had just taught him how to do punctuation).  I cycled through the various ringtone choices for mom to pick from, and she finally settled on one she liked.  When all of a sudden, *ding* she recieved a new message.  She opened it, and read: "DID YOU CHANGE YOUR RINGTONE?"  She looks up at dad with the most serious face and in a chastising voice exclaims, "YOU KNOW I CHANGED MY RINGTONE, YOU WERE RIGHT HERE IN THE SAME ROOM!!" She thought it was the dumbest thing ever that he would ask her a question that he so clearly knew the answer to.  I started laughing, which I think started her laughing so hard she had to run to the bathroom, which made me laugh even harder.  Of course, this ended up being the inside joke for the remainder of my time there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, poor dad went from being so proud of himself for texting a question mark for the first time, to being ridiculed.  (I'm still proud of you dad, for learning to "text message" so quickly).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SK7q8aPX_kI/AAAAAAAAASQ/C6aWZeuMlXg/s1600-h/textingchampionship.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 116px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SK7q8aPX_kI/AAAAAAAAASQ/C6aWZeuMlXg/s200/textingchampionship.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237381740235324994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We're a far ways off still, but I think with a little more coaching we'll be ready for the National Texting Championships next year... or maybe not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LMAO  : )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-3925578905996148984?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/3925578905996148984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=3925578905996148984' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/3925578905996148984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/3925578905996148984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/08/texting-101.html' title='TEXTING 101'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SK7pOs0zhZI/AAAAAAAAARo/a19PgwBglmQ/s72-c/texting.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-7739303869380807989</id><published>2008-08-12T12:48:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T13:05:48.433-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A NIGHT AT THE MOVIES</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SKHBeNrHkSI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/N9mply6ZgBo/s1600-h/screen+on+the+green+%28Day%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 279px; height: 209px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SKHBeNrHkSI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/N9mply6ZgBo/s400/screen+on+the+green+%28Day%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233676966791975202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last night we met a reporter friend of mine, Diane, at the National Mall for "Screen on the Green".  Apparently, every Monday night during the summer they show a different classic movie on the grassy area called the Mall in downtown D.C. between the Washington Monument and the U.S. Capitol building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SKHBoGJMnKI/AAAAAAAAARA/yHuTC5HLxAI/s1600-h/Screen+on+the+Green+%28Night%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SKHBoGJMnKI/AAAAAAAAARA/yHuTC5HLxAI/s320/Screen+on+the+Green+%28Night%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233677136569343138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had a great time.  We brought a large blanket to sit on, a picnic dinner, and some kettle corn.   You're allowed to bring beer and wine as well, but we only had a small cooler with us, so we opted for a couple of Cokes.  It was a great view under the stars too, with the Capitol building lit up at night as the backdrop in front, and the Washington Monument lit up to the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SKHCK6l-SlI/AAAAAAAAARI/U93U9LSqEcQ/s1600-h/superman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 243px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SKHCK6l-SlI/AAAAAAAAARI/U93U9LSqEcQ/s200/superman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233677734764235346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They showed the original Superman from 1978.  We'd both seen it before, but not for a long time.  I'd forgotten how good of a movie it was for it's day (except for the extremely cheesy ending).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately this was the last one that they will be showing this summer, but we hope to go back next year.  Maybe some of you would like to come up and join us for it?  (**wink wink**  ** hint hint**)  &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/6358222806243492317-7739303869380807989?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/7739303869380807989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=7739303869380807989' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/7739303869380807989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/7739303869380807989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/08/night-at-movies.html' title='A NIGHT AT THE MOVIES'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SKHBeNrHkSI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/N9mply6ZgBo/s72-c/screen+on+the+green+%28Day%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-9100218098713153965</id><published>2008-08-10T22:04:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T22:11:56.731-04:00</updated><title type='text'>BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR!</title><content type='html'>My friend Jason just sent me an email chastising me for not yet posting a picture of him on my blog.  I was thinking that as a groomsman at my wedding, he indeed does deserve to have his picture up on my blog.  It's the least I can do for a friend.  So without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you.... Mr. Jason Lowe!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJ-e0c5kBKI/AAAAAAAAAQw/JkId67Zt22U/s1600-h/ugly+monkey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJ-e0c5kBKI/AAAAAAAAAQw/JkId67Zt22U/s400/ugly+monkey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233075915975820450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-9100218098713153965?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/9100218098713153965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=9100218098713153965' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/9100218098713153965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/9100218098713153965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/08/be-careful-what-you-wish-for.html' title='BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR!'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SJ-e0c5kBKI/AAAAAAAAAQw/JkId67Zt22U/s72-c/ugly+monkey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-5575481073016987439</id><published>2008-08-08T10:20:00.016-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T19:35:27.288-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking in Manassas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJxatkvBCEI/AAAAAAAAAQI/OWWAwxIGkMs/s1600-h/MANA_Jackson5_Brad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 104px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJxatkvBCEI/AAAAAAAAAQI/OWWAwxIGkMs/s320/MANA_Jackson5_Brad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232156606099163202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Recently, Lori and I have found some great trails that run through the Bull Run National Park, where two major Civil War battles were fought.  I used to hate walking for exercise, because I became bored after a couple of minutes.  Granted, we used to just walk a few laps around the parking lot of our old apartment, and you can imagine how exciting that would be.  But since we found these trails, I've actually looked forward to walking every night when Lori gets home from work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJxa5FiyH0I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/Ah8zfs3iao4/s1600-h/MANA_HH2_Brad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 96px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJxa5FiyH0I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/Ah8zfs3iao4/s320/MANA_HH2_Brad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232156803884785474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The scenery is great, the weather has been beautiful, and we get to see tons of deer very close up, too.  We even saw a fox yesterday up the trail a bit.  Neither  of us were sure if foxes... foxen? foxes? fox? whatever the plural is... would attack you or not, but as we approached, he quickly ran away, so we never get to find out.  The other cool thing about walking here is getting to stroll by Civil War cannons and equipment on the battlefield.  Lori's not much of an American history buff (she prefers ancient European and Asian history), but I love American history, and for me walking on the field of the first land battle of the Civil War is pretty cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJxbDuC6_BI/AAAAAAAAAQY/YF9KjQt5Rzw/s1600-h/Trail+pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 153px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJxbDuC6_BI/AAAAAAAAAQY/YF9KjQt5Rzw/s200/Trail+pic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232156986555694098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So we're walking along talking on one of the trails last night, and to pass time, we start reciting quotes and lines from poems to see if the other can name who said or wrote it.  My first one was "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both."   After a short time, she guessed correctly that it was Robert Frost (The Road Less Traveled), which brought us off on a whole new tangent with a discussion on whether it can actually be called a "road" if it's in the woods... but anyway... We kept walking and I thought of another one.  This time I asked her, "Who said... Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar".   With great conviction and without skipping a beat, she says, "CLINTON!!"  I was not expecting that one, and if it were not for my trusty walking stick, I might have fallen down laughing.  She just made my day with that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJxbeTGUFVI/AAAAAAAAAQo/7uPotAOnN3k/s1600-h/absolut+cigar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJxbeTGUFVI/AAAAAAAAAQo/7uPotAOnN3k/s200/absolut+cigar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232157443178632530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(By the way as a side note, it was supposedly Sigmund Freud that said the cigar quote, but there's been some debate about whether he actually said it or not, but that's the answer I would have accepted.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-5575481073016987439?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/5575481073016987439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=5575481073016987439' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/5575481073016987439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/5575481073016987439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/08/walking-in-manassas.html' title='Walking in Manassas'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SJxatkvBCEI/AAAAAAAAAQI/OWWAwxIGkMs/s72-c/MANA_Jackson5_Brad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-3877185223378186596</id><published>2008-08-02T23:27:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T23:59:59.995-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oompa Loompa Doom-Pa-Dee-Doo...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJW8DgWx0VI/AAAAAAAAAPw/v3ba-6XbFgE/s1600-h/Matt+License.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJW8DgWx0VI/AAAAAAAAAPw/v3ba-6XbFgE/s320/Matt+License.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230293310671802706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJUooQAWXpI/AAAAAAAAAPA/sh8W8Thp-8A/s1600-h/Matt+Oompa+Loompa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 245px; height: 279px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJUooQAWXpI/AAAAAAAAAPA/sh8W8Thp-8A/s320/Matt+Oompa+Loompa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230131214217010834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJW8ybctCgI/AAAAAAAAAQA/w6uB3uVIKGk/s1600-h/Lori+License.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 265px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJW8ybctCgI/AAAAAAAAAQA/w6uB3uVIKGk/s320/Lori+License.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230294116808329730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJUrIrNzL3I/AAAAAAAAAPo/cr3V4_KOu0s/s1600-h/Lori+Oompa+Loompa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 251px; height: 279px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SJUrIrNzL3I/AAAAAAAAAPo/cr3V4_KOu0s/s320/Lori+Oompa+Loompa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230133970300252018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well, Lori and I in an attempt to become official residents of the Commonwealth of Virginia, decided to get our licenses last week.  But for some reason, when they took the pictures at the DMV, our faces came out fluorescent orange!!   (The color looks way more normal here for some reason, but trust me, they are definitely orange).   I took one look at them and immediately thought "Oompa Loompa".   And then proceeded to run to my computer and Photoshop the green hair and white eyebrows, to Lori's dismay.  She's rolling her eyes as I type this.  Whatever... I thought it was hilarious!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-3877185223378186596?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/3877185223378186596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=3877185223378186596' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/3877185223378186596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/3877185223378186596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/08/oompa-loompa-doom-pa-dee-doo.html' title='Oompa Loompa Doom-Pa-Dee-Doo...'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SJW8DgWx0VI/AAAAAAAAAPw/v3ba-6XbFgE/s72-c/Matt+License.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-5356033478184158566</id><published>2008-07-29T22:45:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T22:59:08.642-04:00</updated><title type='text'>SOMETHING TO KEEP YOU OCCUPIED</title><content type='html'>I've been pretty busy looking for houses and all, so until I have time to post something real again, here is a fun maze game I found on the interweb for you all to try.  It's pretty hard.  I can't get past the 4th level of it, but maybe you can.  Try to stay between the blue area.  Hold down the mouse button and don't let go until you reach the red square at the end or you'll have to start from the beginning again.  It's best with the sound on.  Have fun, and let me know how you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.maniacworld.com/maze_game.htm"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAZE GAME&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;&lt;&lt; Click on this link to play.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-5356033478184158566?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/5356033478184158566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=5356033478184158566' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/5356033478184158566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/5356033478184158566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/07/something-to-keep-you-occupied.html' title='SOMETHING TO KEEP YOU OCCUPIED'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-8483061231416150562</id><published>2008-07-25T10:52:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T00:00:00.494-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='USF Bulls'/><title type='text'>DOWN WITH THE COUCH BURNERS!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SInyfogJJQI/AAAAAAAAAOI/jywR_TjtCiE/s1600-h/USF+Doormat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 187px; height: 183px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SInyfogJJQI/AAAAAAAAAOI/jywR_TjtCiE/s400/USF+Doormat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226975467802273026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It turns out the guy next door to our apartment is a die-hard West Virginia University fan.  Both of his license plates are WVU related, and I just saw his doormat has the WVU emblem on it.  Now it's official.  We're going to have to get a USF doormat, just so he'll have to walk by it everyday and sulk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SInzAsD80jI/AAAAAAAAAOY/jap7fK5PC-w/s1600-h/usf-wv.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 272px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SInzAsD80jI/AAAAAAAAAOY/jap7fK5PC-w/s320/usf-wv.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226976035693449778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For those of you that don't know, USF beat WVU last year, knocking them out of contention for a national championship run, while at the same time, boosting USF to the #2 spot in the nation!   It was definitely one of the best, if not THE best games I've ever been to live.  The atmosphere was so full of energy and the place was SOOO loud, ending with the fans storming the field.  Just thinking of it makes me miss not being in Tampa to go to all the games this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SInzLvLBIaI/AAAAAAAAAOg/qTrxTxHmxTU/s1600-h/USF+Scoreboard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 198px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SInzLvLBIaI/AAAAAAAAAOg/qTrxTxHmxTU/s320/USF+Scoreboard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226976225506959778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;BUT, we are planning on attending the WVU - USF game in Morgantown, WV this year!  It looks like a few friends are going to come up for the big game.  I'm so excited.  A good time will be had by all, except all the WVU fans, of course.  Those couch-burning idiots can wallow in their misery at home after the game.  But don't feel too bad for them.  I'm sure their sisters will be there to give them plenty of comfort, if you know what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh, and the WVU guy got a ticket on his car for parking in a handicapped spot last night.  Haha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GO BULLS!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-8483061231416150562?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/8483061231416150562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=8483061231416150562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/8483061231416150562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/8483061231416150562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/07/down-with-couch-burners.html' title='DOWN WITH THE COUCH BURNERS!'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SInyfogJJQI/AAAAAAAAAOI/jywR_TjtCiE/s72-c/USF+Doormat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-2326775713268585557</id><published>2008-07-23T11:14:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T00:00:00.851-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kitty Fodder'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Da Cats'/><title type='text'>A LITTLE BIRDIE TOLD ME...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SIdLYLenP4I/AAAAAAAAAN4/g-b1GxWXHjo/s1600-h/Birdie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 271px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SIdLYLenP4I/AAAAAAAAAN4/g-b1GxWXHjo/s400/Birdie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226228771356884866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A little birdie told me that he "might like to come into our apartment" this morning, as I heard him tapping his tiny beak on the glass on our second floor porch.  I informed him that "no, he probably wouldn't, as there are 4 very hungry cats that would like nothing more than to have a bright green snack."  (Luckily they were sleeping in the other room at the time).  He promptly flew away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-2326775713268585557?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/2326775713268585557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=2326775713268585557' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/2326775713268585557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/2326775713268585557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/07/little-birdie-told-me.html' title='A LITTLE BIRDIE TOLD ME...'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SIdLYLenP4I/AAAAAAAAAN4/g-b1GxWXHjo/s72-c/Birdie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-2953398531022800338</id><published>2008-07-23T08:38:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T00:00:02.039-05:00</updated><title type='text'>WE MADE IT!</title><content type='html'>Hello everyone!  We finally made it.  The 14 hour trek from Tampa D.C. was long, and tiresome, but we're here.  I've gotta tell you, I was really worried about driving the distance with the four cats in the back, but they turned out to be unbelievably good!!  A couple of them meowed a little bit for the first half hour or so, but after that, they were so quiet, we were actually worried about them.  Every time we stopped for gas, food, etc., we would check on them and find them just chilling out in their carriers.  WOW!  What a relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SIcs_V9AAfI/AAAAAAAAANI/kLiOkxWMedI/s1600-h/Roscoe+Basket.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SIcs_V9AAfI/AAAAAAAAANI/kLiOkxWMedI/s320/Roscoe+Basket.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226195359323128306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SIcteVg-_BI/AAAAAAAAANY/sLEa9crXMcs/s1600-h/Mouse+%26+Iddle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 223px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SIcteVg-_BI/AAAAAAAAANY/sLEa9crXMcs/s320/Mouse+%26+Iddle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226195891781565458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SIctsxUsnRI/AAAAAAAAANg/pi430WE7H0Q/s1600-h/George.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SIctsxUsnRI/AAAAAAAAANg/pi430WE7H0Q/s320/George.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226196139764391186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So we're all getting settled in to our new apartment.  The cats are busy exploring the new environment. Roscoe immediately found his new spot in a basket that Grandma Price bought for him.  And Iddle and Mouse are equally happy no matter what spot they're in.  But I was really worried about George, because he has never been good with moves.  Usually when we move he spends the first 2-3 months hiding in a bathroom, or under a cabinet somewhere, or in the case of our last apartment, up in the loft for a year and a half.  But I'm thrilled to say that I haven't found him hiding once yet!!  (Here he is hanging out above the fireplace).  I think it has something to do with our vet's recommendation that we get an air plug-in that has a chemical called Feliway in it.  It contains a pheromone that soothes cats' anxiety.  I gotta tell you, it's a miracle product.  We sprayed some in their cat carriers before we left, and I attribute that to their behavior in the car too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've spent the past 3 days unpacking and looking for work.  It's been a chore, but I'm almost done.  Luckily for us, we are planning on moving into a house or townhouse in the next 6 months, so about half of the stuff is being left in boxes in the spare bedroom, which we're using as a storage unit.  That's not to say if anyone of you wants to come visit, you won't have a place to stay.  We bought an air mattress for the move, and it's about the most comfortable one I've ever seen.  We were taking it down because the movers set up our bed, and Lori remarks, "I kinda wanted to sleep on the air mattress again.  It was fun."  So don't be afraid to come visit, please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SIcuECH9qfI/AAAAAAAAANw/lboV4ksugww/s1600-h/George+%26+Iddle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SIcuECH9qfI/AAAAAAAAANw/lboV4ksugww/s320/George+%26+Iddle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226196539411376626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When I was unpacking one of the bathrooms, everything in the mover's boxes was individually wrapped in packing paper.  To save time as I unwrapped each item, instead of putting each piece of paper in a trashbag I would throw them into the bathtub.  Well let me tell you, the cats thought they had found heaven as they dove head first into the crinkly paper.  They looked like little kids playing in the plastic balls as Burger King.  I started laughing and had to take a second from unpacking to run get the camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, just wanted to take a moment and let you all know we made it safely.  By the way, I like it here already.  We just have to get Lori to have at least an open mind about Virginia enough to enjoy it.  So far, she hasn't taken to it all that well, but I'm sure she'll come around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would love to hear from you all. Even those of you who I've never met, and who just read this site for fun.  I'll post more as things arise.  Take care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Matt&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-2953398531022800338?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/2953398531022800338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=2953398531022800338' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/2953398531022800338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/2953398531022800338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/07/we-made-it.html' title='WE MADE IT!'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SIcs_V9AAfI/AAAAAAAAANI/kLiOkxWMedI/s72-c/Roscoe+Basket.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-3758447577007147494</id><published>2008-07-18T08:11:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T00:00:02.318-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the apocolypse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Man-Eating Moths'/><title type='text'>IT'S A SIGN  :(</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SICIrKCYAPI/AAAAAAAAAMo/WcKMfSicZBg/s1600-h/Moth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SICIrKCYAPI/AAAAAAAAAMo/WcKMfSicZBg/s320/Moth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224325842759844082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Is it an omen when two days before you move out of your apartment, there is a giant man-eating moth hanging out right above your door?  Seriously, this is the biggest one I've ever seen!  Or maybe it's a locust.  I don't know, I've never actually seen one.  Either way, he's been there for the past 2 days, and it's starting to get kinda creepy!  If any of you have ever studied ancient prophesy/omens please let me know.  In the meantime, I'll try to fend him off with a broom and and a can of paint.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-3758447577007147494?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/3758447577007147494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=3758447577007147494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/3758447577007147494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/3758447577007147494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/07/its-sign.html' title='IT&apos;S A SIGN  :('/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SICIrKCYAPI/AAAAAAAAAMo/WcKMfSicZBg/s72-c/Moth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-5701743095856650795</id><published>2008-07-16T09:25:00.018-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T00:00:03.419-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moving'/><title type='text'>IT'S FINALLY HITTING ME</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SH3_3r2Vq9I/AAAAAAAAAMA/9R6bLjFLyXQ/s1600-h/Movers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 190px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SH3_3r2Vq9I/AAAAAAAAAMA/9R6bLjFLyXQ/s200/Movers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223612474948168658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The movers are here packing all of our stuff up as I sit here typing this.  By the way, it's very awkward to sit here and type while someone is packing all your shiznit into cardboard boxes.  Yeah, it's finally hitting me like a two-ton heavy thing, that this is for real.  After living in Florida for over 23 years now, we're actually moving to Virginia, which now seems so far away.  Really? We're actually doing this?  What, are we crazy or something?  No, I keep telling myself it's a good thing, right?   It's exciting and scary and sad all at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SICNCjxI2eI/AAAAAAAAANA/mV3ansRa0dI/s1600-h/2603416678_61795fe4e5_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SICNCjxI2eI/AAAAAAAAANA/mV3ansRa0dI/s320/2603416678_61795fe4e5_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224330642850372066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I realized the other day that I've never lived more than 45 minutes away from my parents.  It's been just far away enough that I knew if I ever needed anything, I could just drive a short distance and things would be ok.  I love them dearly, and I'm going to miss them terribly.  Since moving out of the house right after high school, we have grown very close.  I can never repay them for all that they've done for me over the years.  They are the best.  It's going to be very difficult to say goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SICMVdh5uEI/AAAAAAAAAM4/3isawt1PP5k/s1600-h/2603633847_7533323068_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SICMVdh5uEI/AAAAAAAAAM4/3isawt1PP5k/s320/2603633847_7533323068_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224329868081739842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My brother Adam and I used to fight ALL the time in high school, but ever since he left for college, he and I have been best of friends.  Since moving to St. Pete a couple of years ago, we live literally 3 or 4 miles apart now.  We hang out every weekend with friends, and I can't imagine life without going to &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SH4EPYEILqI/AAAAAAAAAMg/9o4fClDlxhY/s1600-h/Courtside.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SH4EPYEILqI/AAAAAAAAAMg/9o4fClDlxhY/s200/Courtside.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223617280000667298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Courtside Grille for Friday happy hour, and then dinner afterwards.  This has been a great bonding time for us.  I'm so lucky to have a big brother like him in my life.  He is truly a blessing, and I will miss him more than I can say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A part of me doesn't want to leave.  Not the part that's been bitching about wanting to move out of Florida for God knows how long now.  Not the part that wants to see the changes of the seasons.  Not the part that wants to experience new adventures and a change of pace.  Not even the crazy part of me that wants to live in snow again.  No, it's the part where my heart is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny that I've always considered Minnesota to be my home.  After all, it's where I was born and raised until I was 12.  But looking back on it, I guess Florida is really my home.  I've been here about 2/3 of my life.  It's where I did all my "growing up", made lifelong friends, and most importantly, met my wife.  If it weren't for her going up to Virginia with me, I don't know if I could do it.  But she is my rock, and I know together we'll be fine.  Yeah, my heart is in Florida.  I can admit it.  But they say that &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SH4BBZYva7I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/F8oet-R8I7s/s1600-h/Virginia+is+for+Lovers+logo.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 172px; height: 96px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SH4BBZYva7I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/F8oet-R8I7s/s200/Virginia+is+for+Lovers+logo.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223613741302508466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Virginia is for Lovers"  Rnnt Rreww!!  (Kinda looking forward to seeing if that's true).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, even though I know we'll be happy and everything will work out fine, it is with a heavy heart that I say goodbye to Florida and hello to my new life in VA.  No, I take that back.  Lets not say goodbye, lets just say "till we meet again".  Love you all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-5701743095856650795?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/5701743095856650795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=5701743095856650795' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/5701743095856650795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/5701743095856650795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/07/its-finally-hitting-me.html' title='IT&apos;S FINALLY HITTING ME'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SH3_3r2Vq9I/AAAAAAAAAMA/9R6bLjFLyXQ/s72-c/Movers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-5660167577036470250</id><published>2008-07-14T20:31:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T21:12:06.592-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Da Cats'/><title type='text'>SERIOUSLY?!?</title><content type='html'>What is going on here?  If I have to save one more cat that's caught behind a dresser today, I'm gonna scream.  Yeah, you heard me.  Let me explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salvation Army is coming tomorrow morning to pick up our old furniture and one of the pieces is a  tall stand-up dresser positioned in the corner of the bedroom which we have a huge television on top of.  Well, in my process of cleaning the dresser out for the move, I took the television off of it.  The critter crew apparently saw this as their chance to take advantage of a new place to climb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started when I heard a pretty loud thud coming from the bedroom.  Well, being as I had several boxes stacked up in the bedroom, along with the fact that they knock stuff over all the time, I wasn't real concerned with it.  I'll get to it later, I thought.  Well later came around and when I went in there, I couldn't find anything out of place.  I thought, well that's strange.  This is when I heard a faint "meww" coming from under the dresser.  I looked behind it and saw a large grey tail peeking out.  Somehow the 19 lb.  Mouse had managed to crawl &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;underneath&lt;/span&gt; the dresser and had gotten himself stuck!  I tilted it forward so he could crawl out and then moved it sideways as he ran from the back of it.  Now mind you, this whole time, his brother Iddle is watching off to the side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not an hour later, I walk into the bedroom to another "meww".  I immediately peek over the dresser to find Iddle looking up at me like "oops".  After a short talk about "didn't you learn anything from your brother's mistake?"  I let him out as well.  Now you'd think this would be the end of it, but no.  As I'm walking in to the bedroom even later I come to see how they are managing to get stuck behind the dresser.   I turn the corner into the bedroom just in time to see Roscoe take a leap onto the dresser, slide across the top, hit the wall, and go straight down.  I almost peed my pants laughing.  That was some funny shnatt!  Earlier that day, I had polished the wood on the dressers because they were pretty dusty.  My bad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good lord!!  You're not going to believe this, but as I was typing this, Iddle managed to do it again!  Seriously?!?  Really?  Unbelievable.   Here we go again.  Catman to the rescue!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-5660167577036470250?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/5660167577036470250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=5660167577036470250' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/5660167577036470250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/5660167577036470250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/07/seriously.html' title='SERIOUSLY?!?'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-563743746698080627</id><published>2008-07-11T11:39:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T00:00:04.045-05:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY AS A PIG IN DOOKIE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHeA-Skr1VI/AAAAAAAAAK4/jDQ38id4R0o/s1600-h/Matt+Happy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHeA-Skr1VI/AAAAAAAAAK4/jDQ38id4R0o/s320/Matt+Happy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221784100585330002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is me.  This is me with my new MacBook Pro laptop.  This is me with my new MacBook Pro laptop grinning ear to ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes it has finally arrived from California after waiting a long week.  I wasn't excited at all yesterday when the FedEx truck arrived.  In reality, I was so excited that I think I  scared the delivery lady when she knocked and the door immediately swung open.  She jumped a little.  I said, "Oh a package for me? I forgot all about it."  I had been tracking that thing every day for the last week on the FedEx website wondering what was taking so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHeBG2EvYpI/AAAAAAAAALA/7jMPPtZz2TM/s1600-h/design_gal05_20080226.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHeBG2EvYpI/AAAAAAAAALA/7jMPPtZz2TM/s320/design_gal05_20080226.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221784247553974930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But alas, it is here and I am very happy!  I have to thank my mom and dad for buying it for me.  They said they wanted to buy it as my birthday and christmas presents.  I said yeah, for the next 10 or 12 years!  I am truly grateful to them for the awesome present.  Lord knows I'll use it, and won't want to exchange it for something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, I'll probably be adding posts more often since I don't have to run upstairs to use the computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy boy.&lt;br /&gt;Happy boy.&lt;br /&gt;Happy boy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-563743746698080627?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/563743746698080627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=563743746698080627' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/563743746698080627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/563743746698080627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/07/happy-as-pig-in-dookie.html' title='HAPPY AS A PIG IN DOOKIE'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SHeA-Skr1VI/AAAAAAAAAK4/jDQ38id4R0o/s72-c/Matt+Happy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-7135128974033684038</id><published>2008-07-11T09:27:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T00:00:05.023-05:00</updated><title type='text'>CAT-ASTROPHE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHdxKUGbg-I/AAAAAAAAAJY/AeIL_ICxzfM/s1600-h/IddleVignetteBLue.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 306px; height: 205px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHdxKUGbg-I/AAAAAAAAAJY/AeIL_ICxzfM/s200/IddleVignetteBLue.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221766714967688162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These are our cats.  They hate me right now.  Well, ok maybe they don't hate me, but every time I go into the spare bedroom where we keep the cat carriers, they are a little leery of me.  In the last two weeks, they have been poked, prodded, jabbed, assaulted, humiliated and&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHd3645hE0I/AAAAAAAAAKA/4nc84sxCMe4/s1600-h/Roscoe+Green+Eyes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 182px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHd3645hE0I/AAAAAAAAAKA/4nc84sxCMe4/s200/Roscoe+Green+Eyes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221774146549125954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; tortured. This is according to them.  According to me, they all just had to go to get their shots and Iddle needed a teeth cleaning.  I felt bad, because I had to take them one by one in to the vet, and I'm sure they were wondering as I carried each one away if they would ever see their buddy again.  But it was a necessary evil to keep them healthy and happy and with us for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHd4mFbQnSI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/ucOZB_I2bGA/s1600-h/George.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 190px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHd4mFbQnSI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/ucOZB_I2bGA/s200/George.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221774888646253858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;George, "the orange one", is adjusting to his home again after having a three week vacation with Grandma and Grandpa while I was out of town.  He was so spoiled there with a porch, &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHd6ziqrHTI/AAAAAAAAAKo/SXnC7uOSVKs/s1600-h/MouseDreamyGALLERY.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 304px; height: 226px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHd6ziqrHTI/AAAAAAAAAKo/SXnC7uOSVKs/s320/MouseDreamyGALLERY.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221777318857088306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"wet" food, and not being chased around the house by the 19 lb. beast known as Mouse. Mouse is really just a gentle giant, but he can't resist a good chase.  In his defense, if George wouldn't run, Mouse probably wouldn't chase him, but alas, George takes off and the chase ensues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHd8I2Qg8AI/AAAAAAAAAKw/bMhMiER55wI/s1600-h/Iddle+%26+Lori.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHd8I2Qg8AI/AAAAAAAAAKw/bMhMiER55wI/s320/Iddle+%26+Lori.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221778784404959234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Iddle probably had the worst week of all of them.  He not only had to go to the vet to get his shots, he had to go back 3 days later to get his teeth cleaned.  They had to give him anesthesia, so when I went to pick him up, he was still VERY groggy.  The vet told me to keep him in his carrier for another 3 hours or so, but when I got home I felt bad, so I closed the bathroom door and let him walk around.  Well I guess walk around wouldn't be the correct term.  It was more like stumble, fall over, bang head on door, lose footing and fall over again, try to crawl on belly, then roll over.  Poor guy, he looked like a drunken sailor.  I felt bad that I'd let him out, so I put him back in his carrier and came back an hour and a half later.  He had peed himself and it was all over his back legs, underside, and tail.  I got some soapy water and washed him off, but he was miserable still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, I started to worry about him because he was still so out of it and hadn't eaten in 2 days.  Usually chipper and loving with his tail straight up, he moped around looking completely depressed with his tail dragging on the ground.  I worried that he wouldn't come out of it, and that I'd killed Lori's cat.  That would be a great start to a new marriage, wouldn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, he started eating the next morning, and now I'm happy to say he's back to his normal self, as are the rest of the critter crew.  Little do they know, the real torture is yet to begin, as we take a 14 hour road trip with all 4 cats to Virginia next week.  I don't know who will be tortured more by it, them or us, but wish us luck.  We'll all probably need it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-7135128974033684038?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/7135128974033684038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=7135128974033684038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/7135128974033684038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/7135128974033684038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/07/cat-astrophe.html' title='CAT-ASTROPHE'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SHdxKUGbg-I/AAAAAAAAAJY/AeIL_ICxzfM/s72-c/IddleVignetteBLue.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-8662210394615787842</id><published>2008-07-10T09:30:00.030-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T00:00:07.342-05:00</updated><title type='text'>PLEASE HELP, I HAVE A PROBLEM!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHYpAYlsVPI/AAAAAAAAAHo/Ynmq0d2Qtf4/s1600-h/reality+chickens.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHYpfrmiTwI/AAAAAAAAAH4/kyy0TYlw-S4/s1600-h/devil+tv.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221406442239708930" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="139" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHYpfrmiTwI/AAAAAAAAAH4/kyy0TYlw-S4/s200/devil+tv.jpg" width="190" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last night, I realized something. I might possibly be addicted to reality television. I really didn't think it was that bad until I was talking to Lori the other night, and she had mentioned in passing that I watch a lot of reality television. I said, "Well, I like some shows, but I really don't watch that much." Later that night, I went to watch something I recorded on TiVO, and I noticed that about 75% of all I had recorded was... yep you guessed it, Reality Television! And not just the ones I really consider worth watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hells Kitchen (Gordon Ramsey is my hero) and the Mole (not as good as when Anderson Cooper hosted it, but I still like it) are the current ones that I really actually like, but I just can't stop there for some reason. In the past week, I've watched so many horrible ones that I have no business watching. Here are some of them and reasons I shouldn't be contributing to the downfall of society, but somehow I can't stop:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/Americas_Got_Talent/"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221413030180625074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 188px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 132px" height="148" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHYvfJmDGrI/AAAAAAAAAIA/AaDFsULLaZ0/s200/americas-got-talent.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;America's Got Talent&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;- Here's a show that is American as you'll get. By that I don't mean patriotic, I mean who else but Americans with &lt;strong&gt;absolutely&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;no&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;talent&lt;/strong&gt; would go on a national tv show (with "talent" in the title, mind you), to make an ass of themselves and get booed off stage. Sing it with me now: "My country tis of thee, sweet land of irony. Of thee I sing." Oh and it's got David Hasselhoff as one of the judges, who insists on calling himself "The Hoff" now. That fact alone should get me to stop watching, but I found that if you fast forward through his comments, it's not &lt;strong&gt;as &lt;/strong&gt;bad. This show should've been called: "America's Got Talent, But You Won't See it on This Show, and Sorry About The Hoff - We Didn't Realize he was Completely Insane and Repulsively Annoying When We Signed Him to a Two Year Contract". They actually tried that name, but the test audience thought it was too long of a title.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;I'M A BIG LOSER FOR WATCHING THIS FACTOR: 9/10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fox.com/momentoftruth/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221413230267010722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHYvqy-XDqI/AAAAAAAAAII/N51h3Xc3KDs/s200/moment-truth01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;2.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Moment of Truth&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;- What can I say about this one? A show where self-absorbed egomaniacal contestants take a lie detector test, then try to remember their yes or no answers later to see if they were telling the truth in front of their friends and family (and all of America)? This show is like watching a train wreck. It brings out the contestants' worst qualities and deepest hidden secrets on live television. That sounds like my worst nightmare. Why would you sign up for that? Oh yeah, these desparate people are promised $500,000 if they can answer all the questions truthfully. I actually saw an episode where a girl admitted that she not only cheated on her husband (who was there in front of her), but she also said that he wasn't the person she wanted to marry in the first place (unbeknownst to him, apparently). Not only that, she also admitted that she should've married her old boyfriend who actually came out to ask her the question in person!! Ah... Moment of Truth: Shattering spirits and breaking up marriages one soul-crushing episode at a time. Congrats, you've officially earned your place in the fifth circle of hell!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'M A BIG LOSER FOR WATCHING THIS FACTOR: 8/10&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/Nashville_Star/"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221413860751996850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="120" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHYwPftsd7I/AAAAAAAAAIY/rlF93GJWXWQ/s200/Nashville+Star.jpg" width="168" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Nashville Star&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;- What the hell? I don't even like country music!?! What in God's name am I watching this for? Oh yeah, there was nothing else on, and I was bored out of my skull. I know, that excuse doesn't even sound good to &lt;strong&gt;me&lt;/strong&gt;. This show is like a really bad version of American Idol for country singers. Sound bad? Yeah it gets worse when you add that Billy Ray Cyrus is the host, and Jewel is one of the judges. Oh, my reality addiction is really getting bad. Please Help!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'M A BIG LOSER FOR WATCHING THIS FACTOR: 10/10&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://abc.go.com/primetime/wifeswap/index?pn=index"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221413715505507202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 194px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 129px" height="110" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHYwHCoO64I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/Yf0WC1dqIkA/s200/wife_swap_with_border.jpg" width="167" border="0" /&gt;4.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Wife Swap&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;- The title makes it sound depraved, but unlike the new CBS show "&lt;em&gt;Swingtown&lt;/em&gt;", it's not actually about trading sexual partners. They take two completely opposite families with totally opposite views and make the wives go live with the other's family for 2 weeks. What ends up happening is mildly entertaining, but not enough to justify me watching it. All the shows pretty much end the same way. With the husbands refusing to do anything that the swapped wife tells them to, and then getting in a huge fight about it. I guess the only redeeming factor is the people learn to appreciate their own spouses a little more. Oh God help me! I can't believe I just admitted watching this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;I'M A BIG LOSER FOR WATCHING THIS FACTOR: 8/10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHZYgsVBVCI/AAAAAAAAAIo/eGeKwkFARmg/s1600-h/cc_logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221458136661054498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 179px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px" height="130" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHZYgsVBVCI/AAAAAAAAAIo/eGeKwkFARmg/s200/cc_logo.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/Celebrity_Circus/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Celebrity Circus &lt;/strong&gt;- More like "B-List Celebrity Circus". This show is as goofy as it gets. It takes "stars" like the guy who played Peter Brady on the Brady Bunch (Christopher Knight), some Olympic medal swimmer (Janet Evans), and some singer I've never heard of (Blu Cantrell) among others and makes them do circus acts. I remember seeing commercials advertising it before it came out and I also remember thinking that I would refuse to watch it. One, because it just sounded retarded, and two, I didn't want to encourage them to make more of these shows. But like a dumbass, I was flipping channels and got caught up watching it when I saw Stacey Dash (pictured here) floating on satin sheets in the air. She is not hard to look at, as you can tell, so I stayed on that channel. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHZYwZNDepI/AAAAAAAAAIw/oA5tINit99k/s1600-h/StaceyDash_Smooth9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221458406405274258" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 144px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 183px" height="187" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHZYwZNDepI/AAAAAAAAAIw/oA5tINit99k/s200/StaceyDash_Smooth9.jpg" width="144" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Now, like a sucka, I have to watch every week to find out which b-list celebrity will be kicked off. Now do you see how bad my addiction has become? Oh and Joey Fat-One, I mean Fatone, from NSYNC is the host which is all the more reason I need rehab. By the way, Stacey is still on it, so I still have that excuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'M A BIG LOSER FOR WATCHING THIS FACTOR: 9/10 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHYpAYlsVPI/AAAAAAAAAHo/Ynmq0d2Qtf4/s1600-h/reality+chickens.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHYpN26eUrI/AAAAAAAAAHw/AMh6l8_7HR0/s1600-h/reality+chickens.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221406136038478514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SHYpN26eUrI/AAAAAAAAAHw/AMh6l8_7HR0/s200/reality+chickens.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well that's not all of them, but it's enough to give you an idea of what my life has become since I got laid off. Thank God that &lt;em&gt;Dancing With the Stars&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;American Idol&lt;/em&gt;, and the &lt;em&gt;Apprentice&lt;/em&gt; are over now, or I'd have to talk about them too. Geez, I've really gotta get a job soon!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone know of any reality show treatment centers? 'Cause I'll totally go. I can admit I have a problem and apparently that's the first step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My name is Matt. "HI, MATT!" And I am a realiholic. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-8662210394615787842?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/8662210394615787842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=8662210394615787842' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/8662210394615787842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/8662210394615787842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/07/please-help-i-have-problem.html' title='PLEASE HELP, I HAVE A PROBLEM!!'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SHYpfrmiTwI/AAAAAAAAAH4/kyy0TYlw-S4/s72-c/devil+tv.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-9077228074920400834</id><published>2008-06-29T23:14:00.030-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T00:00:08.492-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid People'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>Complete Randomness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGhKI2Mo85I/AAAAAAAAAGg/eqk7vk4wnOI/s1600-h/Mcconaghey.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGhQP3DyquI/AAAAAAAAAHA/GGuaqej2Su4/s1600-h/Mcconaghey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217508401716832994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 139px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 233px" height="255" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGhQP3DyquI/AAAAAAAAAHA/GGuaqej2Su4/s320/Mcconaghey.jpg" width="150" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ok, so today I'm reading a magazine, and I come across an article that says Matthew Mcconaughey's nephew is named 'Miller Lyte'. Oh for God's sake. Apparently his brother drinks a lot of the stuff, so he thought it would be cute to name his offspring after a crappy, watered down beer. Ok. This is neither cute, nor funny, nor acceptable. Now, granted I always joke with &lt;a href="http://imnotcrazyjustwellmixed.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lori&lt;/a&gt; about naming our child something weird, but that's all it is: a joke. For example, I want to name our first son Worthington, just because I think it would be funny to say, "Worthington, be a dear and bring daddy another Martini, would you?" in a snobby British accent. But I would never really do it. Some things are much better off left as jokes. But back to Mcconaughey's toolbox of a brother. Some people just shouldn't be allowed to procreate. Seriously. My new rule is, if you name your child something stupid, you get kicked in the jewels once every day until: 1. You agree to change the name, or 2. You can no longer reproduce. Sounds fair, right? Also, this guy is getting his own show on Discovery Channel. Really? Something about oil rigs or some crap. All I'm saying is people&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGhQXTpxXWI/AAAAAAAAAHI/t-CQutilDqE/s1600-h/hoegaardenmirror.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217508529651408226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 179px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px" height="158" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGhQXTpxXWI/AAAAAAAAAHI/t-CQutilDqE/s200/hoegaardenmirror.jpg" width="208" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; like this should not be rewarded with celebrity. This guy went on to say that he wanted to name his daughter Genny Draft. Really? As in Miller Genuine Draft?!? Erg!! At least he doesn't drink Hoegaarden. Thank God for small miracles. **&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, as you know, Friday was my last day at work. And as is customary at the job, early in the day, everybody passes around a card that they sign for the person leaving, retiring, etc. Well, at lunch, after everyone signed it, it was given to me. I didn't want to open it in front of everyone. (I really didn't want everyone to see how dissapointed I was when I was shaking it upside down and no money fell out.) Just kidding. Anyway, I was sitting at a traffic light and decided to read some of the comments. All was going well as I was reading all the "We're going to miss you's" and &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGhNBTiO9VI/AAAAAAAAAGw/BkeLMx0lefo/s1600-h/vg-happy-birthday.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Good luck in your futures", &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGhQgek3wqI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Mp83IY4UP74/s1600-h/vg-happy-birthday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217508687202468514" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="140" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGhQgek3wqI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Mp83IY4UP74/s200/vg-happy-birthday.jpg" width="180" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;until I came to a comment that said: "Happy Birthday!" Holy crap I about lost it. I was laughing so hard I almost wrecked my car. Now, I couldn't make out the signature, so I'm not sure if the person was kidding, or just not paying attention to what kind of card it was (we pass a lot of cards around), but it was damn funny. Kudos to whoever you are. You made my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGhNPQJSQAI/AAAAAAAAAG4/Tyq1tC7n5I4/s1600-h/dentists.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGhQugK05PI/AAAAAAAAAHg/aGT7za8b8es/s1600-h/dentists.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217508928148268274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="128" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGhQugK05PI/AAAAAAAAAHg/aGT7za8b8es/s200/dentists.jpg" width="183" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'll just leave you with one last thought to ponder:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surveys say that 8 out of 10 dentists prefer not to participate in surveys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I know I'm warped. Bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** This is a pic of Matthew Mcconaughey in &lt;em&gt;Dazed and Confused&lt;/em&gt;, not his brother. (Purely coincidentally, I just looked at &lt;a href="http://imnotcrazyjustwellmixed.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lori's&lt;/a&gt; new post today titled, "Dazed and Confused" after I had already posted this picture. Weird!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-9077228074920400834?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/9077228074920400834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=9077228074920400834' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/9077228074920400834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/9077228074920400834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/06/complete-randomness.html' title='Complete Randomness'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SGhQP3DyquI/AAAAAAAAAHA/GGuaqej2Su4/s72-c/Mcconaghey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-8652864968047755422</id><published>2008-06-28T11:26:00.039-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T00:00:09.738-05:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Things I'd Rather Be Doing This Summer, But Can't Afford</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGZiGfsD4YI/AAAAAAAAAFw/Ss0--GsfUT0/s1600-h/baja2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There are several things I'd rather be doing this summer, actually more than several, but I've picked five that are on the top of my list. Unfortunately for many reasons, including lack of funds, I will not be able to (yet). But I can still dream, so here they are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://www.fightercombat.com/Air-combat-advanced.html"&gt;Fly a fighter jet in combat.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How cool would that be!! They say that one hour of flight training is equal to eight hours of physical labor, so I'd have to probably get in shape before trying this one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGZd4OL0t2I/AAAAAAAAAFI/rrAEPs9rJWc/s1600-h/Jet+Pilot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216960438817044322" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGZd4OL0t2I/AAAAAAAAAFI/rrAEPs9rJWc/s200/Jet+Pilot.jpg" border="0" height="179" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pros: Extreme adreneline rush, cool uniform, flying a friggin jet plane!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cons: Possiblility of passing out and landing in a ball of flames.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cost: $730 - 3700.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.wideopenbaja.com/index_main.html"&gt;Drive an open-wheeled Baja truck on the Baja 500 track.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Flying across the desert, jumping over hills and rocks, rushing through rivers all at a top speed of 135 mph? Count me in. This is defininatly something I would love to try once.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGZiTf3_9PI/AAAAAAAAAF4/cGVleIFunrw/s1600-h/baja2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216965305468712178" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 231px; height: 151px;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGZiTf3_9PI/AAAAAAAAAF4/cGVleIFunrw/s320/baja2.jpg" border="0" height="192" width="287" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pros: Adreneline rush, beautiful landscapes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cons: Breaking down in the middle of Mexico with nothing around except circling vultures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cost: $3000 - 5000&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://www.incredible-adventures.com/covert1.html"&gt;Learn Covert Operations&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's no way in hell that I'd want to experience this in actual combat, but it would be completely awesome to take this adventure in Covert Ops training!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGZqFIbpN4I/AAAAAAAAAGA/mmjID7gWa4c/s1600-h/Covert+Ops.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216973854750619522" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 230px; height: 149px;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGZqFIbpN4I/AAAAAAAAAGA/mmjID7gWa4c/s320/Covert+Ops.jpg" border="0" height="181" width="270" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pros: Learn to be like a real life James Bond, cool toys, adreneline rush.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cons: The CIA might actually try to sign you up afterwards.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cost: $3800&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://www.thebluefish.com/module_popup.php?News_ID=139"&gt;Travel to the International Space Station&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah, I like to dream big. But who hasn't wanted to go to outer space. I would just like to look down at the earth one time before I die. You can go on a mission for $25,000,000, but luckily for me, they also have one for only $15,000,000... Oh wait, that's not going to work for me either. Oh well, maybe next summer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGZvwy_yG-I/AAAAAAAAAGI/ARm5t1KElFE/s1600-h/ISS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216980102469000162" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 229px; height: 172px;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGZvwy_yG-I/AAAAAAAAAGI/ARm5t1KElFE/s320/ISS.jpg" border="0" height="210" width="264" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pros: Going to space, bragging rights.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cons: Cost, the most intense medical examination of your life, you might run into Lance Bass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cost: $15 - 25 million&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://www.historic-uk.com/StayUK/RentaCastle.htm"&gt;Rent a Castle in England&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I've never been to England and I've never rented a castle. So I'm just trying to kill two birds with one stone. And I say if you're going to go to England, might as well go in style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGZzbZcFvUI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/_9nKggjwOKU/s1600-h/PU7-W01.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGZzbZcFvUI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/_9nKggjwOKU/s1600-h/PU7-W01.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGZ2P1Yzl-I/AAAAAAAAAGY/oYjAfH2U5KM/s1600-h/PU7-W01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216987232756537314" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QbejNwF0erM/SGZ2P1Yzl-I/AAAAAAAAAGY/oYjAfH2U5KM/s320/PU7-W01.jpg" border="0" height="205" width="271" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pros: Live like a king for 4 days. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cons: You've spent so much on the castle, you can't afford the servants.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cost: Four nights @ 2,269 Euros ($3,600)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So there's my list of things I'd rather be doing this summer. What's on your List?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&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/6358222806243492317-8652864968047755422?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/8652864968047755422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=8652864968047755422' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/8652864968047755422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/8652864968047755422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/06/5-things-id-rather-be-doing-this-summer.html' title='5 Things I&apos;d Rather Be Doing This Summer, But Can&apos;t Afford'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</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/_QbejNwF0erM/SGZd4OL0t2I/AAAAAAAAAFI/rrAEPs9rJWc/s72-c/Jet+Pilot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-2212549306719155777</id><published>2008-06-27T13:47:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T14:21:32.035-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MacBook'/><title type='text'>Last Day on the Job</title><content type='html'>As I sit here packing up my stuff in my office, I am unexpectedly kind of sad.  Although I'm looking forward to moving to Virginia and finding a new job, and new experiences, I realized that I really like my job, and the people I work with.  This has been a great learning experience and growing experience for me that I couldn't have gotten anywhere else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geez, these two years went by really quick! Here's what I'll miss.  I'll miss the rest of my video crew that I worked with very closely every day.  Doug B., Patrick, Jeremy and James. We've became pretty close over the years traveling all over the country.   They were a lot of fun to hang around.  I'll miss traveling with them and joking around all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss my boss, Charlie.  I can say with all honesty that he is the best boss I've ever had.  There is no question that he was always pulling for me and would always go out of his way for whatever I needed.  He was so laid back and caring.  He was kinda like a grandfather figure to me, just a great all around guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can't leave out Doug L.  He's a producer that I've worked with on many projects since I've been here.  In fact, we both got hired the same week, and we were both at the final interview together with the college president.  I'll never forget the moment just before I was heading into the interview and Doug was coming out.  Our future supervisor says to him, "Well, it's been nice knowing you." Doug turns and looks at me with stressed eyes, breathes heavily, and sighs, "Well, good luck."  That was not what I wanted to hear right before going in.  We both thought there was no way we were going to be hired after that interview.  We both thought, 'well that's the last time I'll ever see that guy', but somehow we were both hired.  We've become really good friends.  I always tell Lori that he's my #1 fan.  By that, I mean he always seems amazed when I come up with a new graphic or new editing technique, and tells me how cool it is.  He really encourages me to keep going and coming up with better stuff and growing as an editor, and I really owe a lot to him for how much I've accomplished the last two years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this may sound superficial to say, but what I think I'll miss most of all is my MacBook Pro laptop.  I fell in love with this thing.  I'm typing on it for the last time right now and it's kinda depressing.  It's the property of the college, but it's been in my possession for so long, it really feels like it's mine.  I've taken it home almost every night, on business trips, on vacations.  You name it, it's been with me.  I know I'll get another one someday, but they are really expensive and we probably won't be able to afford one anytime soon. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's kinda how my day is.  Kinda sad and kinda exciting at the same time.  Two tough emotions to mix and work through.  Talk more tomorrow, when hopefully I'm in a better mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-2212549306719155777?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/2212549306719155777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=2212549306719155777' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/2212549306719155777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/2212549306719155777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/06/last-day-on-job.html' title='Last Day on the Job'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6358222806243492317.post-6270123383446513633</id><published>2008-06-26T21:29:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T08:55:29.869-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lori'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Da Cats'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>My First Post</title><content type='html'>Well, this is my first post.   Now, what to write about.   I'd love to say something really profound and enlightening to open my blog,  but if you're reading this, chances are you know me and know  that the chance of me saying something that profound and enlightening that will change your life forever are slim.   Anyways, onto the point.   I'll just tell you how my life is lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://imnotcrazyjustwellmixed.blogspot.com"&gt;Lori&lt;/a&gt; and I have been married for over two months now and have been living in two different states for a longer amount of time.   To say this is difficult is a severe understatement.   Being apart, although a necessary evil at this point, has been tough.   Although it has made me realize several things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  That I can make it on my own if I really had to.   I know this may sound silly to some of you, but looking back on my life, there hasn't really been a time that I've lived all by myself.   At every stage, I've either lived with my parents or had a roommate.   I've learned that it's tough living on your own, but I'm surviving.   I think living on my own has been a great life lesson for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  That taking care of 4 cats by yourself is a pain in the ass.   They all want attention at different times of the day, but it's always when you're right in the middle of something, e.g. right now.   Iddle and Mouse, Lori's cats that she's had since before we met, have always had the attitude: He's that guy that mom likes, and he's alright, but we really just want attention from mom.   Since she left, they have been all over me like crazy.   Not that it's all bad, they are cute little buggers, but sometimes, I don't want a new suit made of cat hair, especially at lunch time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  How much &lt;a href="http://imnotcrazyjustwellmixed.blogspot.com"&gt;Lori&lt;/a&gt; truly means to me and how lucky I am that she's a part of my life.   I cherish every day that I get to talk with her and laugh with her and grow with her.  She is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me and I am sincerely grateful to her and for her.    It's made me realize that I married the right woman.   I miss her like mad.    I miss her more and more each day.   Luckily it's only three more weeks till we'll be together again.   And yes dear, I'm trying to hurry.   I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's about enough for my first post.  Let's make a pact.  I'll promise to update it as much as I can, if you promise to keep reading it.  Till next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Matt&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6358222806243492317-6270123383446513633?l=itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/feeds/6270123383446513633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6358222806243492317&amp;postID=6270123383446513633' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/6270123383446513633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6358222806243492317/posts/default/6270123383446513633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsjustnotmyday.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-first-post.html' title='My First Post'/><author><name>Matt Landeen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08957633170253205945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
