<?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-6963600660288347516</id><updated>2012-02-13T14:57:26.797-08:00</updated><title type='text'>saramarie</title><subtitle type='html'>Laugh Out Loud</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>392</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-6756404053871590186</id><published>2012-02-13T11:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-13T11:02:51.305-08:00</updated><title type='text'>finding strength beyond my own.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I had the hardest day of 2012, probably the hardest day in the last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, I dislocated my jaw and sprained my wrist. A &lt;i&gt;fabulous&lt;/i&gt; snap back to reality after enjoying a week off. I couldn't sleep though the night. I can barely eat. I'm in pain. Oh and of course my stomach is freaking out too. The perfect recipe for me to just breakdown. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always say, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger." but yesterday I wasn't sure if I strong enough to get through it. Saying I was completely frustrated would be an understatement. I couldn't do most of the things I wanted to and the things I could do took three times as long. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I listened to one of my favorite talks, &lt;a href="http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2006/04/broken-things-to-mend?lang=eng&amp;amp;query=broken+things+mend" target="_blank"&gt;Broken Things to Mend&lt;/a&gt; by Elder Holland. I started to have a little bit of hope. I started to feel like I wasn't alone. I started to believe everything would be ok. (this sounds dramatic, but I was really so frustrated that I wanted to give up on the day.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These words were my hope, "whatever your distress, &lt;i&gt;please&lt;/i&gt; don’t give up and &lt;i&gt;please&lt;/i&gt; don’t yield to fear."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I'm still in tons of pain and I only have use of one hand. I can only eat things I suck on, and still cant do everything I want to. However, I'm smiling. I'm trying not to get frustrated and I'm holding on to the hope of Christ. &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/6963600660288347516-6756404053871590186?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/6756404053871590186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=6756404053871590186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6756404053871590186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6756404053871590186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2012/02/finding-strength-beyond-my-own.html' title='finding strength beyond my own.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-361005802425208419</id><published>2012-02-06T21:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T21:30:34.365-08:00</updated><title type='text'>time zone musical chairs.</title><content type='html'>Wed: MST&lt;br /&gt;Thurs: Central&lt;br /&gt;Sat: EST&lt;br /&gt;Mon: Central&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been switching time zones practically every other day ... My body has no idea what time it is. Lucky for me, I don't switch back until Thursday (when MST becomes the norm again).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for the heck of it, I have a few things to say to specific people. &lt;br /&gt;Dear Thursday,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel free to take your time in getting here. I'm not ready to go back to work yet. My inbox is already about to explode, I can't imagine what the next few days will do to it. However, the very best part is that I don't even care--so unlike me.&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, I still have so much to do before you get here Thursday. I have a good idea, why don't we add the extra day to this week instead of the last week of this month ... that could work, right? ahhh, beautiful idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please consider my request,&lt;br /&gt;sar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Babe,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please don't forget about me. &lt;br /&gt;I love you. I miss you. I wish you were here with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;sarie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Tree Branch,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so fabulous to see you! And, so fun to meet your awesome husby. You two make a great couple. I have to admit I totally admire your patience and love for your kids! You are smokin' the mom thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love you,&lt;br /&gt;larry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear girls who think leggings are pants,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are not. Leggings are also known as tights (which are meant to be worn under skirts). Go buy some real pants. Please wear your leggings to yoga practice, not soccer games. Soccer is a sport and you give girls a bad name when you play in your underwear. Also, if it's cold enough that you need snow moon boots or wet enough that you need rain boots that's a good sign&amp;nbsp; you should put on some clothes.&lt;br /&gt;Pants are your friends ... there are just some things the whole word doesn't need to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you would like help determining if you are wearing pants or leggings, I can send you a chart, just let me know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to getting all the way dressed before you leave the house next time,&lt;br /&gt;sar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps. Girl on field tonight, Next time, I will kick you in the face.&lt;br /&gt;consider yourself warned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Dear Superbowl,&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for being super great this year! I had no idea you could be so exciting. Maybe I should visit you personally more often. What a great event! Pictures to come soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;sarie&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;wow, i had no idea I had so much to say tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-361005802425208419?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/361005802425208419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=361005802425208419' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/361005802425208419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/361005802425208419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2012/02/time-zone-musical-chairs.html' title='time zone musical chairs.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-511908350957066804</id><published>2012-01-19T23:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T23:01:31.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'>13 days</title><content type='html'>Let the countdown begin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If skipping every where wasn't social ridiculous I think I would for the next 13 days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I went on a double date. Aaron &amp;amp; Julia and Emerson &amp;amp; I went to SushiYa! All you can eat sushi what a fabulous idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cr0EobvDeO4/TxkQtg1TI_I/AAAAAAAACG0/65lSplQIWJA/s1600/sushiya.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cr0EobvDeO4/TxkQtg1TI_I/AAAAAAAACG0/65lSplQIWJA/s320/sushiya.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;and of course, I ate with a fork. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-511908350957066804?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/511908350957066804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=511908350957066804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/511908350957066804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/511908350957066804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2012/01/13-days.html' title='13 days'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cr0EobvDeO4/TxkQtg1TI_I/AAAAAAAACG0/65lSplQIWJA/s72-c/sushiya.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-6913860077123264224</id><published>2012-01-10T20:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T20:53:23.898-08:00</updated><title type='text'>changing my name . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JjXvXxplb-c/TwpaLHIeveI/AAAAAAAACCI/wxJnmaK3Tvo/s1600/IMAG0401+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JjXvXxplb-c/TwpaLHIeveI/AAAAAAAACCI/wxJnmaK3Tvo/s320/IMAG0401+-+Copy.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Surprise number 1&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Brian with his Christmas present. His new ultra thin (1.1"), LED, smart, 47" TV.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Even after seeing the box he still had to open to believe that's really what was inside. He was that surprised. Christmas presents are normally surprises right, wrong. Especially, not in our home. With a husby who checks the bank accounts multiple times a day, he usually knows everything I did during the day before I get home and he has time to ask. That being said, you have no idea how hard it was to hide a several hundred dollar purchase the week before Christmas. 1. Story to cover up purchase. 2. Earn extra cash he doesn't know about. 3. Deposit said cash from "dad" to go along with cover story. 4. Research a bunch of lame TVs to find a good deal for a good TV. 5. Delivery. 6. Hiding a ginormous box. 7. changing password to walmart account right before christmas for a good reason. 8. Deleting all emails/receipts. 9. Having someone else act like this it is their gift to him. and those are just a few of the hoops I had to jump through, but it was all worth it to see him super excited and happy. Repercussions? I now have to allow this in our home ... sigh. &lt;br /&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tvWIMz6Djvw/TwpaREDlnlI/AAAAAAAACCQ/9zJtaUqr5ds/s1600/IMAG0421+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tvWIMz6Djvw/TwpaREDlnlI/AAAAAAAACCQ/9zJtaUqr5ds/s320/IMAG0421+-+Copy.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;snowflake crew&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ayCpkTCoJqE/Twpa2ySWVeI/AAAAAAAACCg/uOvlNZiHaLs/s1600/DSC01639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ayCpkTCoJqE/Twpa2ySWVeI/AAAAAAAACCg/uOvlNZiHaLs/s320/DSC01639.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;ski theme, of course. I'll have to post the birthday skis pic too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5riFZQsVG_c/TwpbDRGlATI/AAAAAAAACCw/3IqjhdCQrss/s1600/DSC01640.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5riFZQsVG_c/TwpbDRGlATI/AAAAAAAACCw/3IqjhdCQrss/s320/DSC01640.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;the help getting the food trays ready. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5rrvMajK2Ms/TwpbScwV_9I/AAAAAAAACDI/ooq-NveBp_s/s1600/DSC01641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5rrvMajK2Ms/TwpbScwV_9I/AAAAAAAACDI/ooq-NveBp_s/s320/DSC01641.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;surprise number 2&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;even after the lights came on and everyone yelled surprise, Marcus still didn't know what was going on, classic rookie mistake. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fAuBEjH0J4o/TwpbinH2FmI/AAAAAAAACDg/egDzxM7PEWQ/s1600/DSC01649.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fAuBEjH0J4o/TwpbinH2FmI/AAAAAAAACDg/egDzxM7PEWQ/s320/DSC01649.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;like a little kid in a candy store! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QWXIqOi5yuE/TwpbyJr6HqI/AAAAAAAACDw/kv6uJCSBziI/s1600/DSC01653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QWXIqOi5yuE/TwpbyJr6HqI/AAAAAAAACDw/kv6uJCSBziI/s320/DSC01653.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;nothing like piling 20 people onto one couch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ThjDOXBpsJs/Twpb87eZopI/AAAAAAAACEA/01UUj9pDOyw/s1600/DSC01655.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ThjDOXBpsJs/Twpb87eZopI/AAAAAAAACEA/01UUj9pDOyw/s320/DSC01655.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;the surprise crew&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Lth1ZAaFNr4/TwpcFYQqgmI/AAAAAAAACEI/Sw1j0s3NG7U/s1600/DSC01661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Lth1ZAaFNr4/TwpcFYQqgmI/AAAAAAAACEI/Sw1j0s3NG7U/s320/DSC01661.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A7RHd3kzTp0/TwpcMQaqj5I/AAAAAAAACEQ/CygsFQPDIgA/s1600/DSC01664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A7RHd3kzTp0/TwpcMQaqj5I/AAAAAAAACEQ/CygsFQPDIgA/s320/DSC01664.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;every college party needs some beer pong going on, and if you're not cheating you're not trying hard enough was the girls motto ... somehow the boys still beat them. :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jrtn0MuYsFY/TwpcTrA3EiI/AAAAAAAACEY/ywxuCFtVbUU/s1600/DSC01682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jrtn0MuYsFY/TwpcTrA3EiI/AAAAAAAACEY/ywxuCFtVbUU/s320/DSC01682.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;some of the party peeps, I wish I could've gotten a group shot. Oh well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5a71EvGvr-I/Twpca2WBb8I/AAAAAAAACEg/TLffS582ogg/s1600/DSC01683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5a71EvGvr-I/Twpca2WBb8I/AAAAAAAACEg/TLffS582ogg/s320/DSC01683.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;a couple of my accomplices, Mitch and Chad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RwWgLE9soLM/TwpckWqGDqI/AAAAAAAACEo/55S71XL_o1o/s1600/DSC01685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RwWgLE9soLM/TwpckWqGDqI/AAAAAAAACEo/55S71XL_o1o/s320/DSC01685.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So, after pulling off two huge surprises in two weeks I am considering changing my name to Master of Surprises.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-6913860077123264224?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/6913860077123264224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=6913860077123264224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6913860077123264224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6913860077123264224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2012/01/changing-my-name.html' title='changing my name . . .'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JjXvXxplb-c/TwpaLHIeveI/AAAAAAAACCI/wxJnmaK3Tvo/s72-c/IMAG0401+-+Copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-1865335850106971605</id><published>2011-12-26T21:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T22:01:53.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>clean and crisp and a place of our own.</title><content type='html'>After being away from home for 3 nights, I absolutely loved coming back to a clean cottage with my husby, puppy, and bunny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;more to come about where WE spent the last 3 nights. Soon, hopefully.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-1865335850106971605?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/1865335850106971605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=1865335850106971605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1865335850106971605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1865335850106971605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/12/blog-post.html' title='clean and crisp and a place of our own.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-3729727776271455866</id><published>2011-12-19T15:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-21T23:23:12.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>where the stars feel so close</title><content type='html'>... that is seems as if you could jump up and grab one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was able to spend 14 hours on the mountain yesterday. It was such a great day. It was 7 degrees outside when I started my quad and backed off the trailer. It was 9 degrees when I finally pulled back up in, and then jumped inside the truck to head home. It didn't ever get real warm, but I stayed nice and toasty with the help of a few hand/foot warmers. The day was beautiful ... I'm pretty sure it was about 20 degrees when I was walking around in a t-shirt, right before I took a nap on a soft pile of snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the city, don't get me wrong, but there is something about being out of the city away from the noise and phones in the beauty of nature that sucks me in and makes me fall in love, time and time again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaron and I had quite the adventure chasing down an elk, who we later named Alice. While we were field dressing her, I saw one of the most intriguing things ever. I am going to warn you now if you don't like anatomy/biology/real life/nature, don't keep reading. Now, you've been fairly warned, so if what you read next grosses you out ... not my fault. Back to field dressing, after we had pulled most everything out --still in once piece (success!), there was still something inside that didn't want to come. when we finally got it out, I realized it was the uterus and inside was a tiny baby elk. This little elk fit in my hand! It was so interesting because as I was examining it I could see all of &lt;i&gt;his&lt;/i&gt; parts. the bones were all there, the tendons followed the bones, the hooves had split and I could touch the hard part forming over, The little heart was protected by a rib cage, lngs, liver, and I found out where kidney beans got their name. I was amazed at how tiny it was, but still the fetus was complete. This might seem like something so obvious to most, but I guess I've just never really thought about the act of being pregnant before. She was probably only a month or two prego, but it was absolutely fascinating to see how everything worked for Alice and child. I now have so many more questions. Questions, I didn't even know were options. Nature is truly incredible, and God is amazing, gracious, and genius! I'm in awe. Definitely, an experience I don't think I will forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From that point on everything was up hill with Alice, literally. After Aaron shot her she ran away from the road and down the mountain. We had to drag her back to the road ... which took Dad, Adam, Aaron, me, and the most powerful quad to get her there. Yes, she was that heavy and it was really steep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a good time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-3729727776271455866?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/3729727776271455866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=3729727776271455866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3729727776271455866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3729727776271455866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/12/where-stars-feel-so-close.html' title='where the stars feel so close'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-8182005176898239105</id><published>2011-12-13T21:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-14T07:48:40.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>productivity = love</title><content type='html'>There are a handful of things that I just LOVE to do!!! Every time I get a chance to do one of them, I soak it up and milk it for every ounce of enjoyment possible. Life is short people, and you never know when you might have had your last yesterday. I would hate to have a lot of empty yesterdays, just in case. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example: Jammin' out to some sweet playlists while dancing around my kitchen as I cook! Literally, singing at the top of my lungs to the music turned up loud enough I still can't hear myself. You better believe that whatever cooking utensil is in my hand, at the moment the song gets intense, becomes my mic! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I also love this same basic activity as I clean the cottage, which reminds me ... I have seriously neglected cleaning anything the past week. It's been a little crazy 'round here lately. That will probably be my next project tonight. I feel like I have been extremely productive since arriving home today! I think I will keep the streak going!!! I love checking things off my to-do list. Yes, nerdy, I know.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I left work after 8 hours ... what the, shut the. That is the truth. I went to my parents and picked up a couple of things, then came home and worked for a little bit helping someone as I started dinner. (since dinner was going to take me 3 hours I had to get it going.) Once dinner was good to leave on it's own for an hour I decided to break my grinch streak and finished making a wreath I started last year. Done &lt;u&gt;and&lt;/u&gt; hung. Then more dinner preps (I even made dessert). After dinner, I continued the Jammin' while I cleaned, vacuumed, mopped, and organized the cottage. Started a load of laundry (did you know you can actual do wash before you run out of clothes? ... weird. Usually if I'm washing whites it's because I need some for the next day.) We will see if I actually get around to folding it all as well ... not likely. &lt;br /&gt;Next I made a couple of cards and wrote messages to a few people I've been thinking about recently. I need to patch up the dog bed, design the Cmas card (I'm thinking &lt;i&gt;really simple&lt;/i&gt; this year), order the prints, get the letters and envelopes ready, and do a few things for work in the morning (tomorrow being the 14th I don't want to neglect too much work tonight). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of that done, and I still have 3 playlists I didn't get to, not counting my "christmas in July" which I refuse to listen to this year. Normally, I LOVE Christmas. I look forward to December every year, but this year Christmas tried to take over November also, which just annoyed me and now I don't want to hear or see anything Christmas, unless I have to. scrooge status for sure. I'm gonna have to get over that this week cause the festivities this year will be painful, if I don't turn my frown upside down. That can be on tomorrow's list ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-8182005176898239105?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/8182005176898239105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=8182005176898239105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/8182005176898239105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/8182005176898239105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/12/productivity-love.html' title='productivity = love'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-4584262771952735688</id><published>2011-12-09T22:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T23:34:21.904-08:00</updated><title type='text'>growing great,</title><content type='html'>Today, I spent time with several key people in my life right now. I went to lunch with one of my favorite people, someone I &lt;b&gt;trust&lt;/b&gt;, someone I look up to for advice, someone who easily could be my big sister and that would just fit. She gets her &lt;b&gt;priorities straight&lt;/b&gt;, and has mastered still fitting in the time for simple things that make life sweet. Basically, she rocks and we &lt;b&gt;always have good laughs&lt;/b&gt;!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I was able to spend some time with another person who I completely admire. She radiates beauty, and not just because she has flawless skin, perfect hair, and an innocent smile, but mostly because she is so &lt;b&gt;genuine and is amazing from the inside&lt;/b&gt;. I know her husband is one lucky guy because she has tons of love inside of her. It's so easy to see, she is happy to have her love bursting out of her if it might help put a smile on someone's face. &lt;b&gt;She makes everyone around her feel significant. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also talked to someone who, OH MY GOSH words don't do her justice. She is fun. She is giving. She is interested. She is patient. She is a hard worker. She is my newest friend. I have a lot of acquaintances, but I don't have an exorbitant amount of friends, because to me friend is a very precious word. A friend is someone who you put on your priority list because you love them more than you love yourself, and you know if you needed them you'd on theirs. &lt;b&gt;She showed up, literally, to help me when I really needed it, and I didn't even have to ask her&lt;/b&gt;. She asked me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't get enough of being around these three ladies because I get re-inspired for life each time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I came home a little after 9 to a very asleep husby. I had to ring the senior citizen alert. He is such a goof, and he really goes to bed between 9 and 10 most nights. I can't even begin to think about how he does that. He is really incredible. Seriously, he makes me want to be better at everything I do, just so I can be a little bit more like he is. He pretty much dominates everything he does. He's one of those people who is just smart and talented without having to try very hard, but &lt;b&gt;yet he still works so hard. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to keep recording days like today, because I want to become like these fabulous people in my life who make me excited to put one foot in front of the other all day long. I want to keep moving forward and improving what I'm doing, so I can hopefully be a little bit like the great examples I have around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think ...&lt;br /&gt;Step one in &lt;b&gt;becoming better&lt;/b&gt; is realizing there is room for growth.&lt;br /&gt;Step two is figuring out which direction you want to grow in&lt;br /&gt;Step three is finding people who have done it already (people you admire), watch and learn, and figure out how it could work for &lt;u&gt;you&lt;/u&gt;. setting goals. &lt;br /&gt;Step four is implementation .. the action plan. giving yourself checklists and benchmarks until doing what you want to do is just natural.&lt;br /&gt;Step five is never stopping. As long as you're human there is room for improvement. &lt;b&gt;Good is the enemy of great. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-4584262771952735688?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/4584262771952735688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=4584262771952735688' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/4584262771952735688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/4584262771952735688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/12/growing-great.html' title='growing great,'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7900477636931154347</id><published>2011-12-04T21:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T21:24:08.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>where the grass grows knee high.</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;I wanna wake up with the rain falling on a tin roof, while I'm safe there in your arms. --Best line in the song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/QKEuOO0lQPc" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love some Norah and Michael on a Sunday night. I could sit here loving and listening to (and singing along with) them for hours! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really REALLY not ready for this week to start yet. Any chance I can just sit here and browse awesome photography while I listen to them until morning and then turn back the clock so it's right now again... wishful thinking I know, but it sounds like a little bit of heaven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7900477636931154347?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7900477636931154347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7900477636931154347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7900477636931154347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7900477636931154347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/12/where-grass-grows-knee-high.html' title='where the grass grows knee high.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/QKEuOO0lQPc/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-2363911889120965624</id><published>2011-11-30T01:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T07:25:02.685-08:00</updated><title type='text'>scatterings</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was recently reminded of why I haven't been to the dentist in 2 years. I think I am going to have to revive that mentality after the trip this week still has me in pain. Don't get me wrong, the dentist himself I'm sure is a good person, and probably didn't want to make me cry myself to not sleep 3 nights in a row, but the facts are that.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;We did do a little bit of the black Friday craziness. It was worth it. We were out of walmart by 10:15, that is what I can success. Then, we headed over to Banana for lots and lots of lovely things, and that was all. Did I mention all of our christmas gifts are purchased and wrapped. I love being done early it makes it even more fun for me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eWfkz4WpKI0/TtsredsyAAI/AAAAAAAAB_U/rAp-MLRgyzQ/s1600/IMAG0373.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eWfkz4WpKI0/TtsredsyAAI/AAAAAAAAB_U/rAp-MLRgyzQ/s320/IMAG0373.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Today is my favorite day of the month! I love the first of the month. It's such a fabulous day. It means I have a whole month until the end of the month again. Seems pretty simple, but that knowledge is bliss.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;What the, shut the. How in the crazy umbrella pants is it already December? The last month of this year is here. Time to pull out my January resolutions and see how I did. jk.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;One of my coworkers is AWESOME! She gave me this precious gem today! I can't decide which of all the cool ways it could be used that I should pick! AND it was filled with tea. She obviously knows how to win brownie points with me. haha.&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-72wN0B9EX7c/TtsrZJGO5zI/AAAAAAAAB_M/wnJBMvzsA2U/s1600/IMAG0378.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-72wN0B9EX7c/TtsrZJGO5zI/AAAAAAAAB_M/wnJBMvzsA2U/s320/IMAG0378.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I also decided to take an idea from this crazy lady's blog and I spent a few hours in the kitchen getting several meals all put together and ready for the freezer, so when I want to eat them it's quick prep time. Genius. I'm trying to get better at planning out the menu for the week, it seems to keep things more organized and then I don't forget to make good, nutritious dinners for us as well. All around I'm trying not to be such a spacey cook and even though I do love spending time in my kitchen, I'm going to try and be more efficient. blah blah blah ... we'll see.&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uP5nC1FnTNk/TtswaFhaRII/AAAAAAAAB_0/09jRgo-IiU4/s1600/IMAG0359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uP5nC1FnTNk/TtswaFhaRII/AAAAAAAAB_0/09jRgo-IiU4/s320/IMAG0359.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;While we were in CO hanging with one of my friends and her family she made this yummy sweet and sour pork that I loved. Plus that look how pretty it is. So, it's become a regular around my dinner table.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-usv1eWBmeSQ/Ttswp_PwYvI/AAAAAAAAB_8/yUEM5qIEIE0/s1600/IMAG0325.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-usv1eWBmeSQ/Ttswp_PwYvI/AAAAAAAAB_8/yUEM5qIEIE0/s320/IMAG0325.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;How is this position comfortable enough to fall asleep in? I don't get it.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xX98UB2vzG8/Ttsri861R2I/AAAAAAAAB_c/H4PVXN5p_Hs/s1600/IMAG0377.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xX98UB2vzG8/Ttsri861R2I/AAAAAAAAB_c/H4PVXN5p_Hs/s320/IMAG0377.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;my nephew drooling on my shoulder. literally he soaked my shirt while he slept, but at least he wasn't crying. :) I've now held him. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kRvQwdIucF0/Ttsrn3qasEI/AAAAAAAAB_k/rSBTnfvOwHY/s1600/IMAG0343.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kRvQwdIucF0/Ttsrn3qasEI/AAAAAAAAB_k/rSBTnfvOwHY/s320/IMAG0343.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pics of the yard project coming soon! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-2363911889120965624?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/2363911889120965624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=2363911889120965624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2363911889120965624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2363911889120965624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/12/scatterings.html' title='scatterings'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eWfkz4WpKI0/TtsredsyAAI/AAAAAAAAB_U/rAp-MLRgyzQ/s72-c/IMAG0373.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-1652482463850127877</id><published>2011-11-23T16:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T16:37:43.694-08:00</updated><title type='text'>punk'd</title><content type='html'>Today, I took a day off. With every intention of actually taking the day off, which means no phone and no email and no work stuff. Also, I had something I love planned. Needless to say, I was so excited. I got home from work last night around 2 this morning. It was a great event, but I was exhausted, so straight to bed I went, pausing only to set my alarm clock for 5 a.m.. Well it turns out that I after setting the clock I didn't actually turn the alarm on. I jumped out of bed when my dad called me at 6 asking where I was because they were ready to pull away from his house. He told me they couldn't wait, so I wouldn't be able to go. Bummer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then as soon as I knew I was going I got nauseous and spent most of the morning throwing up (once all over me). How does that work? Lame. So at this point, not only am I not going, but I'm also going to spend the morning being dominated by my stomach. I thought for sure at this point I was getting punk'd. I was pretty annoyed that my one day off in ages was going to be spent at home in pain. Yes, I know fair is the place you buy cotton candy, but for real I think it's only fair that I get few fun days this fall. bah.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silver lining - I was able to spend several hours with Aaron in my yard finishing the sprinklers and filling in the last of the trenches. I had no idea how much work and how many steps it would take to get the sprinklers done. We still have two small things left to get done. However, at least now, once I get the dirt all leveled, we can lay sod. In November, yes. If the weather cooperates we should be having a little sod party monday! woot woot! Why is this the silver lining? Because you have to really want to see it. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-1652482463850127877?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/1652482463850127877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=1652482463850127877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1652482463850127877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1652482463850127877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/11/punkd.html' title='punk&apos;d'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-1759715707535092123</id><published>2011-11-21T21:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T21:49:02.798-08:00</updated><title type='text'>phrases</title><content type='html'>There are 3 little phrases that seem to make more of a difference in my life than any others. And, I'm completely convinced that without these words marriage would never work, but with them things are lovely.I am thankful for little words that can make a big difference. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Thank you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I'm sorry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;and I love you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-1759715707535092123?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/1759715707535092123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=1759715707535092123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1759715707535092123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1759715707535092123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/11/phrases.html' title='phrases'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-304926013421170122</id><published>2011-11-18T21:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T22:07:33.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's currently snowing outside...winter is here.</title><content type='html'>I seriously don't know what is in it, or what mental thing I have about it, but tea is that one thing I need daily. It's the perfect end to stressful days. It's the perfect afternoon break when I can't seem to think about less than 3 things at once. It's the perfect way to get my mornings going. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I found out that the worst feeling in the world is disappointing someone you care a lot about. It's so stressful, and it's so heavy. I feel like my shoulders could cave in at any moment from the weight. I had to keep reminding myself to breathe ... and smile. I never want to feel this way again. I'm sure I will and I'm sure things will end up working out. However, I learned something about myself today, and that might have been worth it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after my long day and long night, I finally sat down with my cup of tea and just relaxed for a few moments. Almost instantly I felt my shoulders ease and my stomach settle. I don't know what I would do without English tea. (Yes I am totally ok with being a tea snob!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I am documenting my thankfulness for tea. And my thankfulness for opportunities to learn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-304926013421170122?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/304926013421170122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=304926013421170122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/304926013421170122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/304926013421170122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/11/its-currently-snowing-outsidewinter-is.html' title='It&apos;s currently snowing outside...winter is here.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-1319689976074495579</id><published>2011-11-15T16:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T21:50:23.508-08:00</updated><title type='text'>because I can</title><content type='html'>I am so thankful for agency. I'm grateful for living on this earth and for my Savoir who gave his life to give my life purpose. I'm grateful I get to make mistakes, and I'm grateful for the times I get things right. I'm grateful to live in a country where I not only get to choose what I want to be when I grow up, but I get to choose how I am going to get there too. I'm grateful I married someone who supports me being me. Even though sometimes being me might drive him crazy, he never tries to change me. I'm grateful that everyday I get to see the consequences--good and bad--of my actions. I love making my choices. Yup, I do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am grateful that I'm strong enough to stand up for what I believe in and that I don't do things I don't want to do. So, I'm grateful that I have the ability to choose for myself my actions, and I'm thankful I have the desire and will to choose the right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-1319689976074495579?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/1319689976074495579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=1319689976074495579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1319689976074495579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1319689976074495579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/11/because-i-can.html' title='because I can'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-363334769548217770</id><published>2011-11-13T10:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-13T11:16:47.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>favorite holidays ... in order</title><content type='html'>1. Thanksgiving&lt;br /&gt;2. My Birthday&amp;nbsp; (yes, this is a holiday!)&lt;br /&gt;3. 4th of July&lt;br /&gt;4. Christmas &lt;br /&gt;5. Easter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VOhTDQ6rcX8/TsAR5jbmAtI/AAAAAAAAB-g/GeQ-rRnAQ6A/s1600/thnkfultree" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VOhTDQ6rcX8/TsAR5jbmAtI/AAAAAAAAB-g/GeQ-rRnAQ6A/s1600/thnkfultree" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;thank you to pinterest for the idea. &lt;/div&gt;I am usually just waiting for halloween to be over, so I can say, "thanksgiving is this month." Every year I always make lists of things I am thankful for. A few times I have posted them, sometimes kept them in notebooks, and sometimes I just say them out loud to someone each day. This year I really wanted to do this thankful tree, mostly because it is so cute and it's different from what I've done before. Well it's like the 13th or something of November today and I still haven't put that together. Slacker points yes, excuses yes, but now it's just time to do something about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still thankful for all things &lt;a href="http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2010_11_01_archive.html" target="_blank"&gt;posted here&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-have-so-much-to-be-thankful-for.html" target="_blank"&gt;posted here&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2008/11/thankful-for.html" target="_blank"&gt;posted here&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2007/11/fw-thanksgiving.html" target="_blank"&gt;posted here&lt;/a&gt; and all things previously listed. Before you think this is a cop out and I'm just going to use old thankfuls for this year, wait. I've actually challenged myself to dig deeper this year and not take the easiest and obvious thankfuls (not that my prior thankfuls weren't sincere, they were, I meant each one. I just want to try something new).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I woke up thinking about my dad. I am one of those people who wakes up each morning already thinking about something or someone. Sometimes I wake up singing songs in my head. (Just more proof that even when I try to rest my brain just doesn't want to.) Anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZljcChk3NQI/TsATBGPEisI/AAAAAAAAB-w/EFgvpksKyCQ/s1600/dd1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZljcChk3NQI/TsATBGPEisI/AAAAAAAAB-w/EFgvpksKyCQ/s320/dd1" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;When I was very young my dad used to golf a lot, he loved it, and he was very good. He grew up golfing with his dad and when his dad died he kept playing. Well most golf courses don't allow kids, so my dad always left us home to go play for a few hours. Then one day he realized that his favorite hobby was taking him away from him family and that valuable time he wasn't working should be spent with the people he loved. He sold his clubs the next day. I can't say he hasn't golfed at all since, I'm sure he has here and there, but I am SO INCREDIBLY grateful for the huge sacrifice my dad made to make his children and family his number ONE priority (golf is just one of the things he gave up). I am a daddy's girl and I know this is because my dad choose to spend time with me. He did the things I was interested in with me. He was home all the time with us. He worked during the hours he couldn't be with us or he took me to work with him. My dad is one of the most involved dads of any other dads I know, and that being said most of my friends had dads who were involved. I am so thankful for my dad. He has taught me so many great things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dTEYgNTRQBM/TsATCfvk9gI/AAAAAAAAB-4/156zCNzVAoY/s1600/mknfaces" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dTEYgNTRQBM/TsATCfvk9gI/AAAAAAAAB-4/156zCNzVAoY/s320/mknfaces" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Having fun makin' faces with us.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;For example, yesterday, I was digging a hole for the sprinkler box in Aaron's yard. It was about 5:30 all of us had been working all day. (I had been at school in the morning and then had to work doT a bit, so I joined late, but still.) Adam was helping with the hole a little bit and everyone seemed to be getting tired. My dad asked, "what are we going to do for fun tonight?" The words came out of my mouth, "digging this hole IS what I'm doing for fun today." My dad started to remind me that it's important to work and play hard. I love working, I love accomplishing things, and I love being productive. I don't love sitting around watching tv, I don't love to watch others do work I could be doing myself. I got my work ethic from my parents (dad&amp;amp;mom). I am so thankful that I love to work. Work at my job, work at home, work at school/education, work serving others, you name it and I probably love it. I know this probably wasn't an easy thing to teach us, but without it I wouldn't be who I am today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NReODCwMGok/TsAWb21v5HI/AAAAAAAAB_A/nddGbvqC7iA/s1600/whtfunrl" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NReODCwMGok/TsAWb21v5HI/AAAAAAAAB_A/nddGbvqC7iA/s320/whtfunrl" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;always right with us during the hardest days.&lt;/div&gt;Time is one thing we can never get back in this life and we don't know when we will be taken back to live with our father in heaven again, so how we spend our time in this life is of crucial importance. As recorded in Matthew 6:21, our Savoir said, Where you treasure is there will your heart be also. My dad's treasure is his family and I know this because we are where his heart is and where all of his time is spent.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pnzeT7ONtRU/TsATAZbkfxI/AAAAAAAAB-o/0cHi5Gu4xQ0/s1600/weddanc" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pnzeT7ONtRU/TsATAZbkfxI/AAAAAAAAB-o/0cHi5Gu4xQ0/s320/weddanc" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;So thank you Dad, for truly being a real dad and sacrificing your life to be an &lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;amazing example&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, a &lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;teacher&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, a &lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;friend&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, a &lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;parent&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, a &lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;coach&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, a &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;mentor&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;/i&gt; a &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;cheerleader&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, a &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;hangout buddy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, a &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;boss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, a &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;motivator&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, a &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;shoulder to lean on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, a &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;protector, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt; missionary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, a &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;leader,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; a &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;chef&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, a &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;driver,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; and a &lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;father &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-363334769548217770?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/363334769548217770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=363334769548217770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/363334769548217770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/363334769548217770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/11/favorite-holidays-in-order.html' title='favorite holidays ... in order'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VOhTDQ6rcX8/TsAR5jbmAtI/AAAAAAAAB-g/GeQ-rRnAQ6A/s72-c/thnkfultree' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-435810307128863358</id><published>2011-11-08T07:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T07:43:24.595-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Dinners</title><content type='html'>You know those days when you have too much on your mind to even begin to figure out where to start writing ... that's me for the last couple of weeks. I finally decided the only way to get over that is to just start writing something. So, here goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom,&lt;br /&gt;We all hope you are enjoying Italy. This is what we have been up to while you've been gone . . . Since Dad wasn't about to invite everyone to Fast-Sunday dinner without food, Bri and I invited everyone over to the cottage to enjoy some roast, carrots, mashed potatoes, rolls, and Aaron's brownies.&lt;br /&gt;After dinner Aaron and I juiced a 25# bag of carrots and a bag of apples for flavor. We also juiced the left over plums. I have to have say that juice was good, even Brian liked it. Marcus kept everyone else entertained with his ski videos. I think he is trying to brainwash Emer already.&lt;br /&gt;After the juice and videos, we had a mini Aromatouch session with oils. It was pretty funny to watch. I also held Emerson for the first time, he is actually getting pretty big. I was surprised at how sturdy he is. That's about it, everyone went home and we watched the Real game, which by the way was tragic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3ghHKULCG6I/TrlJ53gKboI/AAAAAAAAB9A/vL9C-61OAy0/s1600/IMAG0317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3ghHKULCG6I/TrlJ53gKboI/AAAAAAAAB9A/vL9C-61OAy0/s320/IMAG0317.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;I love that you can see the carrot and apple tie-dyed in this pic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O-8-Foan1xY/TrlJ_LajjfI/AAAAAAAAB9I/g6KPb-FRmUY/s1600/IMAG0318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O-8-Foan1xY/TrlJ_LajjfI/AAAAAAAAB9I/g6KPb-FRmUY/s320/IMAG0318.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;yum. plenty to share.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I2_yAWXsJoU/TrlKGR-RcaI/AAAAAAAAB9Q/DBe5gniUw5g/s1600/IMAG0319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I2_yAWXsJoU/TrlKGR-RcaI/AAAAAAAAB9Q/DBe5gniUw5g/s320/IMAG0319.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;We had very minimal mess for the amount of Juice we made.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gC_OtYVOHeI/TrlKKU8AlHI/AAAAAAAAB9Y/dRi-Scw6v-Q/s1600/IMAG0320.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gC_OtYVOHeI/TrlKKU8AlHI/AAAAAAAAB9Y/dRi-Scw6v-Q/s320/IMAG0320.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J3K9LdPSdDE/TrlKS0_wCKI/AAAAAAAAB9o/Fcc0lUgfxwU/s1600/IMAG0322.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J3K9LdPSdDE/TrlKS0_wCKI/AAAAAAAAB9o/Fcc0lUgfxwU/s320/IMAG0322.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; What Sunday night would be complete with some ski videos. Oh, Marcus, it is a good thing we really him, and that we don't mind watching a thousand ski videos. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty much back on my normal schedule now - work until 6:30, study, play soccer, get home at 10, finish cooking dinner around 11, eat, clean, sleep. I am really trying to do some prep work for dinners on sunday, so that during the week dinners are quicker to make. I love to cook, so I do, but it's nice to break up some of the prep, so that I still have time to cook at 10 p.m.. love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-435810307128863358?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/435810307128863358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=435810307128863358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/435810307128863358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/435810307128863358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/11/sunday-dinners.html' title='Sunday Dinners'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3ghHKULCG6I/TrlJ53gKboI/AAAAAAAAB9A/vL9C-61OAy0/s72-c/IMAG0317.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7598690707542597359</id><published>2011-10-26T22:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T22:55:52.124-07:00</updated><title type='text'>reclaiming my life.</title><content type='html'>Convention is over, thank goodness! Last week I literally worked every minute I was awake, and I only slept 10 hours cumulative. Not to mention the couple weeks prior when I was getting limited sleep, and working until my eyes hurt. In the end it was all worth it. Convention turned out amazing--it was exciting, educational, and empowering.&amp;nbsp; It seemed like people kept asking me all week how I was holding up or if I was ready for a new job yet, I borrowed Alyssa's words, "we wouldn't do it, if we didn't love it." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today, I left work at 3:45--p.m.. My plan was to leave everyday this week at 3, but today was the closest I got. :) It felt great to drive home while the sun was still up. Then I quickly changed to take advantage of the "warmer hours" while I pulled out my garden, and worked in my yard. I have to admit I was a little sad as I pulled up all my beautiful plants from my very first garden. However, I am so excited to put our backyard in. Who knew how much work it would be to &lt;i&gt;get ready&lt;/i&gt; for sprinklers and grass. A special thanks to Richmond for using our backyard as a dumping ground for all kinds of trash as they built our cottage. I thoroughly enjoyed digging up all the scrap pieces, nails, and beer cans. (add whatever level of sarcasm you feel appropriate.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And where did the cold come from? Did it just get here or was I so busy that I didn't even notice that jackets and pants are now a requirement if you want to keep your limbs attached?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After working in the yard, I got my soccer gear on and headed to my game. You know my life has been taken over when I miss soccer games. Step numbero uno is always making sure I have time to exercise and keep my body balanced, so the rest of my life can have peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then ran a few errands. It's crazy how many little things piled up. checked off a few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uM4B9_K_NWg/TqjqaVtPt9I/AAAAAAAAB8M/_XqRfEYalQ4/s1600/stache+love" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uM4B9_K_NWg/TqjqaVtPt9I/AAAAAAAAB8M/_XqRfEYalQ4/s320/stache+love" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr align="left"&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Finally, a life reclaimed is no good without some serious silliness! Mandie, Nikki, Jenny, and I met up at Red Mango, for some laughing, frozen yogurt, and mustache love. Obviously, Red Mango is no Snog, but since we can't snog in the US we settled. Welcome home Jenny, bet you're glad none of us really grew up while you were on your mission. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TywpLhiL4F0/TqjrEdz9PyI/AAAAAAAAB8U/p4bNXiAX0to/s1600/nikkistache.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TywpLhiL4F0/TqjrEdz9PyI/AAAAAAAAB8U/p4bNXiAX0to/s320/nikkistache.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VKqk5jK-oTI/TqjrFAAKlOI/AAAAAAAAB8c/lt9kFIsh5TE/s1600/ohmyme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VKqk5jK-oTI/TqjrFAAKlOI/AAAAAAAAB8c/lt9kFIsh5TE/s320/ohmyme.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ksWcHvJxyyU/TqjrFxCw55I/AAAAAAAAB8k/v6hSaK2iPns/s1600/jennystache" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ksWcHvJxyyU/TqjrFxCw55I/AAAAAAAAB8k/v6hSaK2iPns/s320/jennystache" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CWf15c-MUfo/TqjrGFM2UMI/AAAAAAAAB8s/XDNruqi_5IU/s1600/lechy" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CWf15c-MUfo/TqjrGFM2UMI/AAAAAAAAB8s/XDNruqi_5IU/s320/lechy" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The /i/s&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Other than my body, which is still paying my back for the ridiculousness I have put it through for the last month, I am feeling pretty good again. (and really I can't blame my body too much for hating me right now.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last, but not least, I plan to take off this Friday and work with my Husby on the yard. Then get a massage courtesy of one of my favorite people I get to work with. If all goes as planned B and I might watch Real live in the first playoff game at home!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7598690707542597359?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7598690707542597359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7598690707542597359' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7598690707542597359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7598690707542597359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/10/reclaiming-my-life.html' title='reclaiming my life.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uM4B9_K_NWg/TqjqaVtPt9I/AAAAAAAAB8M/_XqRfEYalQ4/s72-c/stache+love' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-1717668076230171816</id><published>2011-10-05T20:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T21:55:33.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>7 tiny tidbits</title><content type='html'>1. slavery and salary sound eerily similar. I'm starting to think someone misspelled slavery one day. :) jk - good thing I LOVE my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Math class = brain smasher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. My math teacher is a NUT job. Seriously, have a few pages in the back of my note book dedicated to ridiculous things he says during class that are not just out in left field, but on the other side of the globe from the ball park!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Yesterday I found out that you can see as clear as day into my tinted office windows at night. What a joke, so today when I got back here after class I started thinking I was a little nervous cause my stomach wasn't sitting well. It turns out I just had to pee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Where in the world did October and snow come from? Don't get me wrong, we all know I love me some good winter snow, but I can't believe another summer of my life is gone. I'm having a daily battle with the fact that I'm getting older by the minute--I'm not handling it well. laugh all you want. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Rest well Steve Jobs, thanks for changing the world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Lately, whenever I eat it makes me more hungry ... what the, shut the. I don't understand how that works. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-1717668076230171816?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/1717668076230171816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=1717668076230171816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1717668076230171816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1717668076230171816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/10/7-tiny-tidbits.html' title='7 tiny tidbits'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-2115779358883512456</id><published>2011-09-27T17:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T17:37:01.461-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the start of another series</title><content type='html'>Dear Mother Nature,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've had an interesting summer! It's been pretty short and I've missed most of the sun since my job keeps me inside for most of the hours the sun is out. I miss the heat and the sun. I need to spend more time outside appreciating the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed this weekend that you have decided to take out some of your reds, yellows, and oranges from your crayon box. I know you've kept those colors to the mountains, but I also know that once you get that all done there you will start coloring in Fall on the valley. I am not ready for this. I am not ready for all the leaves to change. PLEASE, put those crayons back in the box for just another month or so. No more colors, and no more fall yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for taking this plea into consideration,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Lover of Summer&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/6963600660288347516-2115779358883512456?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/2115779358883512456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=2115779358883512456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2115779358883512456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2115779358883512456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/09/start-of-another-series.html' title='the start of another series'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-2958522877697531801</id><published>2011-09-20T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T23:12:42.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>worst-wife-ever award x2</title><content type='html'>Last night after a great soccer game the A and I decided we should make some cookies. Chocolate Chip Toffee cookies, to be exact. Just the name makes my mouth salivate. Yummy. As soon as we arrived at the cottage we quickly pulled out all of the ingredients needed. Once the butter and sugars were all poured into the bowl, I remembered I had used the last of my vanilla making Tapioca two weeks ago. (Have I been grocery shopping since? Not a chance.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to worry, we didn't let that stop us for a second. I called the one neighbor I know, but no answer. So we jumped back into Torres and headed to Kohlers. (The closest grocery store.) Construction detours turned our 7 minutes trip into a 10 minute trip, but we didn't even bat an eyelash. In and out, vanilla in hand, smiles on faces. We were on our way back to cottage, again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cookie making picked up right where it left off. Finally, cookies in the oven, timer set, milk out, and the two hungry, patiently-waiting girls kicked their feet up. Nine minutes passed, beep. We jumped up ran over to the oven and flipped on the light. WHAT?! inside we saw a mess of boiling dough, nothing that even semi resembled a cookie. Humm ... we looked at the rest of the dough in the bowl, added some flour and a tiny bit of water. Round one in the trash can. Round two ready to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eight minutes passed, beep. Round two received the same, tragic sentence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Round three, add more flour. Better, starting to look like cookies-ish, but now we are starting to realize we might have failed. Failed at making the most basic cookie! How is this even possible? We might actually be nominated for the worst-wife-ever award! What wife can't make cookies?!? Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, we keep our heads up and move onto round four. adjusting yet again. (At this point, we've probably had double our share of cookies because we've eaten half the dough in this process.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eight minutes later this is what comes out of the oven. Pathetic I tell you, just pathetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--CvCdkhE7_o/Tnj1hqcIpCI/AAAAAAAAB78/0grkH9ykjvA/s1600/IMAG0221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--CvCdkhE7_o/Tnj1hqcIpCI/AAAAAAAAB78/0grkH9ykjvA/s320/IMAG0221.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Maybe you know me well enough to know I'm slightly competitive and I HATE losing. Maybe you don't. Either way, you are about to find out just how ridiculous I can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 10:30 p.m. (typical time for me to start dinner) A's husby is about to pick her up. And I'm faced with a decision; do I accept defeat, do I let the score stand cookies 1 Sarie 0?&amp;nbsp; I tried to think I could handle losing, but alas I knew that was not worth the effort. I knew there wasn't a chance I could sleep without redeeming myself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, onto batch number two. I pulled everything back out, found a new recipe, and I started over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Batch 2 take 1 was much much much better. I actually made cookies! Now the score is Cookies 1 Sarie 1. I slept on a very full, happy stomach. AND, I have lots of good cookie dough in the fridge for today! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FVALYWUNhxA/Tnj1cvDVoZI/AAAAAAAAB74/HFdTBTZYMsc/s1600/IMAG0222.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FVALYWUNhxA/Tnj1cvDVoZI/AAAAAAAAB74/HFdTBTZYMsc/s320/IMAG0222.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-2958522877697531801?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/2958522877697531801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=2958522877697531801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2958522877697531801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2958522877697531801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/09/worst-wife-ever-award-x2.html' title='worst-wife-ever award x2'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--CvCdkhE7_o/Tnj1hqcIpCI/AAAAAAAAB78/0grkH9ykjvA/s72-c/IMAG0221.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-5571862047193695886</id><published>2011-09-19T14:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T23:12:00.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>#21 too cool</title><content type='html'>#21 because someday your kids will think they are too cool for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I realized that my youngest brother thinks he is too cool for me. He is probably right, but it's totally a sad day. I feel OLD and BORING, two things I hope to never be! I'd like to think I am YOUNG and FUN. But I'm so not feeling it right now, I totally hate this. I don't want to think about how much more this would suck if this was my kid. So, this is being added to "the list" ;) &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-5571862047193695886?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/5571862047193695886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=5571862047193695886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/5571862047193695886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/5571862047193695886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/09/21-too-cool.html' title='#21 too cool'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-8216128739923803796</id><published>2011-09-09T23:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T23:17:13.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm a little sad I haven't posted any pics lately. Mostly because Brian acts like he is a P.O.W. being tortured for the nation's biggest secret EVERY time he sees a camera. I am not even exaggerating a little bit, it's like I was getting the worst-wife-ever award just for wanting to document that we do in fact see each other every now and then. So, I've just stopped taking pictures altogether. My camera has been broken for months now, and I haven't bothered to get it fixed. Then it occurred to me that I could still take pictures without him. Not my first choice, but since I'd like to keep him around for at least a few more years it will do. ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So here's what I've been doing lately.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E1bm7Ji6sG8/TmhDCRk-ITI/AAAAAAAAB6k/xUP8pCYGAaY/s1600/IMG_6459.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E1bm7Ji6sG8/TmhDCRk-ITI/AAAAAAAAB6k/xUP8pCYGAaY/s320/IMG_6459.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Stewart Family campout. I might have sworn off camping in a tent for a &lt;i&gt;very long &lt;/i&gt;time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;the morning we left this "resort." However, there were some good things too; see that trophy, yes we did win the golf tournament. haha. Don't be too surprised ... it was after all a &lt;i&gt;team &lt;/i&gt;effort ... ok, truth, Grandpa and Vicki are really good. Jenny and I just tried to hit our puts. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CWtF8fSeEHI/TmhDKN4vCkI/AAAAAAAAB6o/ncKJXsT16aU/s1600/IMG_6456.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CWtF8fSeEHI/TmhDKN4vCkI/AAAAAAAAB6o/ncKJXsT16aU/s320/IMG_6456.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aeaIpWHHW70/Tmji2RBEbSI/AAAAAAAAB7I/SYn4xntmYx0/s1600/IMAG0086.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aeaIpWHHW70/Tmji2RBEbSI/AAAAAAAAB7I/SYn4xntmYx0/s320/IMAG0086.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Brian and I were able to see Emerson a couple of times after he was born. I guess this kid already feels totally comfortable around his uncle because he had a "blow out" on him the first time and threw up the next time.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L4MNhEq46bU/Tmr17L10OdI/AAAAAAAAB7s/oBAYqWSSB3c/s1600/IMAG0134.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L4MNhEq46bU/Tmr17L10OdI/AAAAAAAAB7s/oBAYqWSSB3c/s320/IMAG0134.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is what we came home to one night after being gone all evening. A lovely gift some left for us. In their attempt to make our window look &lt;i&gt;one of a kind&lt;/i&gt; they shattered it into thousands of pieces that didn't stay together for long. Luckily we were able to get 98% of it trapped, so it didn't go all over when it came down, but the last 2% might be the death of me--just sayin. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OD8jXkQsLbk/TmhDVIhIKoI/AAAAAAAAB6s/CHPeI13DOAo/s1600/DSC01606.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OD8jXkQsLbk/TmhDVIhIKoI/AAAAAAAAB6s/CHPeI13DOAo/s320/DSC01606.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;I lied. There is one thing Brian &lt;b&gt;wants&lt;/b&gt; to take pictures of: baseball parks.&amp;nbsp; blah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Since the braves were playing the rockies the weekend we were in Denver, wait who am I kidding,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Brian only went to Denver because the braves were there, so we went to a game. I can't remember who won, but since he is smiling I'm guessing it was the braves. Please note the cute Braves shirt I found for my little one. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sdeoIVepZi8/TmhDbXRd4wI/AAAAAAAAB6w/hpBzBibuMs8/s1600/DSC01597.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sdeoIVepZi8/TmhDbXRd4wI/AAAAAAAAB6w/hpBzBibuMs8/s320/DSC01597.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I on the other hand went to Denver to visit this awesome brunette. I had a great weekend with Tams and her munchkins. We went to a candy factory, to a bass pro shop to see the aquariums, ate at some places, and did a lil' bit o' shopping at the BR. Oh ya, and Tammy taught me how to cook a few more dinners that I've now added into my rotation. I love cooking, but deciding what I'm going to make could be the death of me, so I love it when people give me options.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jNxe2sE8VLs/TmjiPKQQ9UI/AAAAAAAAB60/KuHsd3z-LmY/s1600/IMAG0140.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jNxe2sE8VLs/TmjiPKQQ9UI/AAAAAAAAB60/KuHsd3z-LmY/s320/IMAG0140.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Then after we got back to Utah, Tammy and munchkins decided to come visit us. And by us I mean all of her family and friends here, but since she stayed with me, we got in lots of good times! We even made caramel &lt;b&gt;without &lt;/b&gt;a thermometer! That's an accomplishment if you ask me. :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cDjGd3y90J0/Tmr0iRm1GSI/AAAAAAAAB7o/9SJRHahZwic/s1600/IMAG0142.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cDjGd3y90J0/Tmr0iRm1GSI/AAAAAAAAB7o/9SJRHahZwic/s320/IMAG0142.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One thing you should know, the cottage is almost always empty. Very rarely are Bri and I even here, so we were super excited to have lots of friends come visit in August. Dave and Annita came out for the Utahalf, which was so much fun!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7l8DYmLfzLY/Tmr0cQ73v2I/AAAAAAAAB7k/jq5RwNCz1AU/s1600/IMAG0144.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7l8DYmLfzLY/Tmr0cQ73v2I/AAAAAAAAB7k/jq5RwNCz1AU/s320/IMAG0144.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Annita and I may or may not have been under the influence of some "crack cocaine" as we chased David and Dani around through the whole course! It was such a fun day cheering them on and doing it with my best friend! I love the excitement of competition and exercise all together. Plus that ... well, words don't even describe so nevermind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S4naksVyihU/TmjijVVzlsI/AAAAAAAAB7E/qq2S-C5Zr-k/s1600/IMAG0166.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S4naksVyihU/TmjijVVzlsI/AAAAAAAAB7E/qq2S-C5Zr-k/s320/IMAG0166.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We also got to spend a few lovely nights at dinner together celebrating Brian's birthday, followed by staying up late chatting about lots of highly important topics like people who hoard stuff and how to decorate without putting holes in the walls. It turns out there's not a way to hang anything without a nail. So one of these days when I decide it's ok to actually hammer in a couple of those tiny steel rods I have some great ideas! AND a new beautiful painting of Christ to hang in the baby's room. My goal is to have a painting of Christ or a temple in every room!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KCuHzPmoeYI/TmjiW918pbI/AAAAAAAAB64/rLn0EUqHgvk/s1600/IMAG0169.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KCuHzPmoeYI/TmjiW918pbI/AAAAAAAAB64/rLn0EUqHgvk/s320/IMAG0169.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I also decided to sluff work one day and hang out with my Caleb and the Watsons at the splash park! I would be such a good 3 year old--still. Chicken fingers and fries for lunch followed by some playing around and not looking at the clock was just the kind of day I needed!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bSWxJIeit8I/TmjifMsGd2I/AAAAAAAAB7A/wsEEmaedZlk/s1600/IMAG0161.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bSWxJIeit8I/TmjifMsGd2I/AAAAAAAAB7A/wsEEmaedZlk/s320/IMAG0161.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OY-kyqWbrfs/Tmjib8Sw-uI/AAAAAAAAB68/Q9HpmATF4YE/s1600/IMAG0153.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OY-kyqWbrfs/Tmjib8Sw-uI/AAAAAAAAB68/Q9HpmATF4YE/s320/IMAG0153.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh, and I can't forget "Robbie's first business proposal." Dave was guest lecturing at BYU, so we all decided to go. Then, at the end of class Robbie asked Dave if he could have a couple of minutes. So BYU. haha. love these two. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C17x7tJWasE/Tmr0MY9s05I/AAAAAAAAB7Y/9lZIFhNGv3Q/s1600/IMAG0181.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C17x7tJWasE/Tmr0MY9s05I/AAAAAAAAB7Y/9lZIFhNGv3Q/s320/IMAG0181.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Surprise! a new little batch of little bunnitos popped out of the wood pile a few days ago! The Little White Wild Bunny has been keeping them secret. No wonder she has been a little Houdini lately with all of her tunnels going every which way throughout the coops. I'm a sucker when it comes to baby bunnies. The broha and I actually spent an entire evening trying to catch the little buggers. Turns out, at only 3 weeks old they are faster and more agile than both of us, put together, and Adam is fast!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9LXxqHNGLCI/Tmr0EpC1hyI/AAAAAAAAB7Q/nO8eaFNGTo0/s1600/IMAG0187.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9LXxqHNGLCI/Tmr0EpC1hyI/AAAAAAAAB7Q/nO8eaFNGTo0/s320/IMAG0187.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Abbie girl is currently "in heat," which means we have other people's mangy muts showing up at our cottage daily. This particular creature was one of the more hideous beasts of burden, who coincidentally, decided he wasn't going to leave. Not wanting to touch him I threw a piece of meat far enough away that I could get Abbs from her Kennel to the back door before he could turn around. She hung out with me for a while, when I thought it would be safe to let her back outside I pushed aside the curtain and this is what I found. For real dude? 1. she is way outta your league and 2. waiting around just makes you look that much more pathetic. ugh. I'm counting down the days until this cycle is over!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N1Pyt62RX80/Tmr0AOJhjTI/AAAAAAAAB7M/fdP92giyEXA/s1600/IMAG0190.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N1Pyt62RX80/Tmr0AOJhjTI/AAAAAAAAB7M/fdP92giyEXA/s320/IMAG0190.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ok, I for sure should've taken a picture of the whole coop/pen so you could get a visual of about how high up this chick is (the top of the bunny cages is about as tall as me. I have no idea how Miss Chick got into this tiny spot up there. Not to worry, she was just trying to find the perfect spot to lay her beauty of a brown egg. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r2zvmilmf_M/Tmr0PxF5byI/AAAAAAAAB7c/JH0bb07Bvw4/s1600/IMAG0176.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r2zvmilmf_M/Tmr0PxF5byI/AAAAAAAAB7c/JH0bb07Bvw4/s320/IMAG0176.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Let's rewind back to fifties for a minute and just admire the abhorrent piece of junk metal I saw &lt;i&gt;cruising&lt;/i&gt; down the interstate last week. A rusty monstrosity, the perfect match for a raggedy old driver. I do have to admit, he looked like he was having the time of his life--windows down, cigarette in hand, listening to Chuck Berry. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZVokkByBTeg/Tmr0T710O0I/AAAAAAAAB7g/6Cek8TB2U7Y/s1600/IMAG0174.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZVokkByBTeg/Tmr0T710O0I/AAAAAAAAB7g/6Cek8TB2U7Y/s320/IMAG0174.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;How embarrassing!&amp;nbsp; Nothing worse than showing up to work wearing the same thing as someone else. Zero creative points and probably at least one gay couple point. Especially, when you match all the way up to your hair cut. Poor guys, and poor wives!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s6wl_obFHpw/Tmr0Hhnm1oI/AAAAAAAAB7U/2lyU-KHYli0/s1600/IMAG0184.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s6wl_obFHpw/Tmr0Hhnm1oI/AAAAAAAAB7U/2lyU-KHYli0/s320/IMAG0184.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Laundry day anyone? As much as I'd love to pretend I have the time and energy to do a load every few days, or even every week, it just doesn't happen. Unless of course A.W. is staying with us. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-shB9I2PZ9Do/Tmr3rpk1fCI/AAAAAAAAB7w/pqwWCv8TELg/s1600/IMAG0091.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-shB9I2PZ9Do/Tmr3rpk1fCI/AAAAAAAAB7w/pqwWCv8TELg/s320/IMAG0091.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KlTB-98tX0g/Tmr3v1qtI7I/AAAAAAAAB70/s1H8ryzwJYI/s1600/IMAG0194.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KlTB-98tX0g/Tmr3v1qtI7I/AAAAAAAAB70/s1H8ryzwJYI/s320/IMAG0194.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;(sometimes courses, sometimes simple) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Did I mention earlier how much I love to cook. Love it, with a capital L. This is a good thing right, yes? Well it is on days when I have time to cook, but on days where I get home around 8 or 9 or 10 at night it's not the best. Instead of settling for a bowl of captain crunch or honey nut cherrios I start making something, which usually takes an hour by the time I decide what, find the recipe, and put it all together, which means I don't eat until it's almost time to call it quits for the night. It might be more accurately labeled, midnight snack.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Well, time to wrap up this picture overload session. Until next time, keeeeep smilin' (a little phrase I borrowed from the creeper stalking the A.M. team). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-8216128739923803796?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/8216128739923803796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=8216128739923803796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/8216128739923803796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/8216128739923803796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/09/im-little-sad-i-havent-posted-any-pics.html' title=''/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E1bm7Ji6sG8/TmhDCRk-ITI/AAAAAAAAB6k/xUP8pCYGAaY/s72-c/IMG_6459.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-810758439422763578</id><published>2011-09-07T23:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-07T23:03:00.135-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I bleed blue ... still.</title><content type='html'>Saturday, I paid my fall semester tuition. OUCH! I paid almost as much for one class as I did for an entire semester while in my undergrad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, the pain of that transaction was lessened when my Cougars reminded me I made a good choice by pulling off a win at Ole Miss!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then today, I went to my first class in two years! I can't believe it's been that long, but it felt &lt;i&gt;so good&lt;/i&gt; to be back. I felt like I was home.&amp;nbsp; I knew the day I walked for my bachelors that I just wasn't finished. My uncle likes to tell me I should be a professional student. I think that might a little extreme, but I am for the first time since the 6th grade at the same school as my youngest broha. This happens to be the same school I was at with my oldest broha. I just hope I'm done before the Marcus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact that reminds me, every single one of my parents' children are in college right now. I bet they are glad I just paid my own tuition. :)&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-810758439422763578?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/810758439422763578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=810758439422763578' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/810758439422763578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/810758439422763578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-bleed-blue-still.html' title='I bleed blue ... still.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-616982391694319228</id><published>2011-08-30T22:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-30T22:43:00.032-07:00</updated><title type='text'>quiet.</title><content type='html'>After a week of having 7 people living in the cottage, I'm surprisingly a little scared of how quiet it is being home alone now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's too quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to go break out the fans and get the runway going again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Friends,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for coming to visit and making our lives that much more fun. I loved our chats and fun activities together. I miss you already. I can't wait to see you again, soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;sar&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/6963600660288347516-616982391694319228?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/616982391694319228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=616982391694319228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/616982391694319228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/616982391694319228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/08/quiet.html' title='quiet.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-4860418327801957097</id><published>2011-08-28T11:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T07:19:10.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'>like earth right after rain</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I like to look for rainbows whenever there is rain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and ponder on the beauty of an earth made clean again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I know when I am baptized my sins are washed away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and I can be forgiven and improve myself each day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I want my life to be as clean as earth right after rain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I want to be the best I can and live with god again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, or well really very early this morning, I was sitting on my porch watching the lightening/thunder storm and this song came to my head. Luckily for me, I wasn't in a hurry to be anywhere at 1 a.m. and I had time to just sit back relax and think about the words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the rain was pouring down rinsing everything and cleaning the air (my favorite thing about rain) I was so happy to be sitting there watching the water carry the dirt away. The earth not only smelled clean and pure, but looked much cleaner as well. I wanted to be out there in it, I wanted to be soaking in as much of it as I could. I love that washing away. The completely clean feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Similarly, I love keeping myself clean. When I'm living the way I know I should and my life is pure and clean I want to do everything I can to keep it that way. I love soaking in the feelings of being closer to my savior. I can still remember everything about the day I was baptized from the flowers sitting in my room to the way my grandpa held onto me after he confirmed me a member. A similar feeling rises up each week I take the sacrament with meaning. (I'm not always perfect at concentrating and preparing myself like I know I should, but the weeks when I do) It's such a beautiful feeling. There is nothing in life that can compare to being close to our Savior and preparing to live with him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not just a simple primary song. I am so so so thankful I started learning the principles of life that bring happiness when I was younger, because there is always more to learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as the last of the ice on my leg was melting I had an interesting thought that after a day of running around how ironic is was to be calmed by the chaos outside of my life. This of course spurred another tangent. I feel like most of the time my life is a bit chaotic; full of the all the things I want to be doing, but when there's a lot you want to be doing it's sometimes hard to plan the time for each one. Every now and again I feel like I've taken on too much (even though there's still more I think I should be doing) and I might break down. Which is just like the rain clouds, when the clouds get so full they can't hold it in anymore they start to just let it all go. The thunder and lightening come as warning signs, just before the clouds give way and raindrops fall. Much the same as it is for me. No, I don't have flashing lights and booming/crashing sounds that warn me, but I do start to feel the pressure building up. Then I have to take a day off of everything to let the stress fall off my shoulders for a minute. It's nice to see that in this huge universe I am not alone in my crazy life, even nature follows the same basic pattern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-4860418327801957097?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/4860418327801957097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=4860418327801957097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/4860418327801957097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/4860418327801957097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/08/like-earth-right-after-rain.html' title='like earth right after rain'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-2842324663381541394</id><published>2011-08-21T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-10T14:27:37.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a lot on my mind</title><content type='html'>Random Saturday Happenings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I nerd/weird for wanting to sit on my garage steps and admire the cleanliness of my transformed garage? Seriously, it was so gross, you had to look around for things you wanted, (basically, nothing was out of place because nothing had a place = my worst nightmare). I organized everything, cleaned up the floor, filled the trash can and the recycling bin, posted a few items on ksl.com, and made the shelves useful! I am so happy about this, and I got it all done last night, which means half of my cleaning was already done when I woke up! Yipee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have 4 gallons of milk in our fridge right now, yup 4. Brian decided to pick some up while he was at the store. Then I came home with 2 more gallons. There will be no crying if any spills, that's for sure, in fact I think the puppy might even get some extra this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may or may not have broken my nose today. I do know that it hurts like freakin' Hades. Oh and it's so swollen. Luckily, it's still straight! Pain will always come and go, but crooked noses seem to stay, so I'm glad that was averted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-2842324663381541394?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/2842324663381541394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=2842324663381541394' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2842324663381541394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2842324663381541394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/08/lot-on-my-mind.html' title='a lot on my mind'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-1666164267258982619</id><published>2011-08-19T07:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-28T17:46:43.414-07:00</updated><title type='text'>when life takes over your days</title><content type='html'>Friday/Saturday to-do list!&lt;br /&gt;1. clean out the black hole of the cottage aka the garage.  CHECK!&lt;br /&gt;2. take down the Easter decorations. uh huh. yep, still up.  CHECK! - the easter eggs still had candy in them! hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;3. harvest the weeds. HALF CHECK and Check (Brian is a rockstar with the yard)&lt;br /&gt;4. bb&amp;amp;b (gotta find me a 20% off)&lt;br /&gt;5. ikea. changed my mind&lt;br /&gt;6. hobby lobby. check!&lt;br /&gt;7. get ready for next week!&lt;br /&gt;8. bridesmaid dresses. looked, but no luck.&lt;br /&gt;9. invitation samples. sent to the printer, check!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goal number 1&lt;br /&gt;Say "thank you" more. I think is a much underused phrase and I want to change that. It never hurts, but it's always nice to let someone know they are appreciated!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goal number 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 3 kinds of people in this world&lt;br /&gt;1. those who aren't completely useless because they can be used as a bad example&lt;br /&gt;2. those who humble you just to be around them; those who make you realize what it means to be a really great person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to start actively tracking qualities and actions I see in people who I think are great. Then hopefully I will be able to work those into my life! Here's the start&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. be thoughtful&lt;br /&gt;a. go out of my way to think of what other people are doing and how I could help them&lt;br /&gt; ex. I'm going to practice softball with Chels before our first game and knowing that I was coming straight from work she brought me dinner! Thoughtful x2 (1. practicing with me, so I would feel ready for the first game and 2. making sure I wouldn't starve, which I totally would have)&lt;br /&gt;b. forget about how busy I may or may not be and remember what other people have going on.&lt;br /&gt;c. take some treats to the neighbors. (Stop assuming they don't like brownies) the other day our neighbors gave each of us a mango, JUST BECAUSE, and we made delicious sorbet that topped off our Sunday!&lt;br /&gt;d. take time to call friends, to see what they are up to and make sure they know you care about them.&lt;br /&gt;e. send a sweet, random note. (say I love you)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. be encouraging&lt;br /&gt;a. it's always better to encourage for effort, than to be annoyed that someone failed.&lt;br /&gt;c. life isn't always about winning or being the best (I am trying my best not to delete this one, I see it, but I'm not sure I can believe it)&lt;br /&gt;b. give the benefit of the doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. be generous&lt;br /&gt;  a. time and talents are a waste on this earth if you keep them to yourself.&lt;br /&gt;  b. give what you have, you don't have to have a lot to give to others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-1666164267258982619?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/1666164267258982619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=1666164267258982619' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1666164267258982619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1666164267258982619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/08/when-life-takes-over-your-days.html' title='when life takes over your days'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-1866068936626391468</id><published>2011-08-08T03:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T04:46:18.322-07:00</updated><title type='text'>love me a Sunday</title><content type='html'>Kade - Do you like Sundays?&lt;br /&gt;Me - I love Sundays. Do you?&lt;br /&gt;Kade - No I hate Sundays. I don't get to play video games. Do you get to play video games today?&lt;br /&gt;Me - Nope, no video games for me.&lt;br /&gt;Kade - Then what's to like about today?&lt;br /&gt;Me - Today is just one of my favorite days of the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kade is a 6 year old in my primary class. He's not the most well behaved child, but he's also not the worst. (There is one child who might be the least behaved child I've ever been around. birth control? yes.) He is one of those, "how long till I can go home?" starting only 5 minutes into sharing time. It's awesome. Today however was a little sad, his happiness is directly affected by what he can't do on Sundays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While my happiness is directly affected by what I get to do on Sundays. I love dedicating a few+ hours to learning about my Savior, the more I study the principles of the gospel the more I know that life without them wouldn't work right. However, my favorite thing about Sundays is that I get to spend almost the entire day just being with Bri. During the week I only see him for a few hours at night, so getting to spend an entire day with him is quite a treat. Aside from Church and spending a couple of hours with one of our families we try not to schedule anything else, giving us time to recover, rest, and relax together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sundays are for sure one of my, if not my top, favorite days of the week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-1866068936626391468?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/1866068936626391468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=1866068936626391468' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1866068936626391468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1866068936626391468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/08/love-me-sunday.html' title='love me a Sunday'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-3381614101364384133</id><published>2011-07-29T23:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T08:43:42.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Diamond Club '11</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rKINwy2ehOU/TjObXCv1xEI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/HHxSp318eH0/s1600/DSC_9049.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6P6w-sR1wCk/TjOOSaYKIFI/AAAAAAAAB6A/-lk8U8Xr5HQ/s1600/DSC_8978.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 213px; height: 320px; float: left; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635004005740060754" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6P6w-sR1wCk/TjOOSaYKIFI/AAAAAAAAB6A/-lk8U8Xr5HQ/s320/DSC_8978.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is my coworker/friend Alyssa C. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We work at doTERRA and sometimes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we work a little too much, but she &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;does an awesome job with events and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so grateful for how well this week's&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;events turned out!Please don't mind our it's-an-event-and-start&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;of-a-new-huge-promotion-week faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o5mkwjertmQ/TjOOSEodJQI/AAAAAAAAB54/dg7OGUUwfbA/s1600/DSC_8959.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 213px; height: 320px; float: left; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635003999902835970" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o5mkwjertmQ/TjOOSEodJQI/AAAAAAAAB54/dg7OGUUwfbA/s320/DSC_8959.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just realized I haven't blogged about any events that have happened recently. my b. This is me catching up. Starting with the most reccent. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pictured here: Angela, Karalee (with the cam), me, Alyssa, and Taylor.  &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;Work is work. It's always changing and growing. Some changes feel great and some are truthfully, quite overwhelming. We've recently had two critical members of the marketing/sales team quit. I'm very sad about one, she was an amazing mentor and played a huge part of why I love my job. Call me cheesy, but I would go to work excited each day to learn something new from her. We miss her everyday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rKINwy2ehOU/TjObXCv1xEI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/HHxSp318eH0/s1600/DSC_9049.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; height: 213px; float: left; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635018378947445826" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rKINwy2ehOU/TjObXCv1xEI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/HHxSp318eH0/s320/DSC_9049.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  two ladies on the left are on my list of people I don't stand next to.  Laurea, is gorgeous, and unless I'd seen them all for myself I wouldn't  believe she's had 9 kids! I hope I have her energy and looks when I'm  40+! Then Brianne has beautful skin, she literally radiates all the  time. After listening to her talk about what she does to keep her skin  look that amazing I went home and I've been following what she said for 3  days in a row now! It's already working!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More fun things to post soon. As soon as I can gather the pictures. :)&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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-3381614101364384133?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/3381614101364384133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=3381614101364384133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3381614101364384133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3381614101364384133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/07/diamond-club-11.html' title='Diamond Club &apos;11'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6P6w-sR1wCk/TjOOSaYKIFI/AAAAAAAAB6A/-lk8U8Xr5HQ/s72-c/DSC_8978.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-6475540397924280771</id><published>2011-07-25T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T22:00:53.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It doesn't get better than this.</title><content type='html'>Every time I almost convince myself there is something I could love more in life than soccer, tea, family, and clean things, I have a day like today and all my beliefs are just affirmed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Played soccer with my family&lt;br /&gt;Hung out with parts of my family and Bri after&lt;br /&gt;Came home to the cottage (relatively clean)&lt;br /&gt;Emptied the clean dishes from the dish washer&lt;br /&gt;Cleaned and organized my kitchen cupboards while jammin' out and dancin' to Train&lt;br /&gt;Now just sippin' on some English Tea in my sweats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my perfect evening/night. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;LOVE. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-6475540397924280771?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/6475540397924280771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=6475540397924280771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6475540397924280771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6475540397924280771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/07/it-doesnt-get-better-than-this.html' title='It doesn&apos;t get better than this.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-3974540334584941897</id><published>2011-07-22T21:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-22T21:58:11.894-07:00</updated><title type='text'>laughing contest.</title><content type='html'>Participants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taylor&lt;br /&gt;Jordan (who if I remember right is in the lead, MR. MKB)&lt;br /&gt;Brandrew&lt;br /&gt;Alyssa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point of the game is to get the most points by your name on the white board in my office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you get points? Taylor answers, "You have to make sara laugh. Not the heartless this is gonna suck for you laugh, but her real happy laugh."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just thinking about this game makes me laugh! Why? because anyone who really knows me, knows I laugh harder at nothing than probably anyone else. Apparently, I don't laugh enough at work that it has become a contest to see who can accomplish this task.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part is, the game is actually funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-3974540334584941897?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/3974540334584941897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=3974540334584941897' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3974540334584941897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3974540334584941897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/07/laughing-contest.html' title='laughing contest.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7609606204456055058</id><published>2011-07-21T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-22T11:06:28.869-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aaron &amp; Emerson</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uzr7Ixiz5uo/TijJ3n_MASI/AAAAAAAAB5o/AH1FXIpVr-E/s1600/aastn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uzr7Ixiz5uo/TijJ3n_MASI/AAAAAAAAB5o/AH1FXIpVr-E/s320/aastn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631973291490804002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm so excited to post about my brother, Aaron, and his new son, Emerson Stone Smith. Seeing Aaron for the first time right after the little guy was born was so fun. (This picture looks so much better on my phone, but apparently it doesn't want to upload too well.) Aaron had a huge smile on his face and was holding Emerson with such care. Emerson wasn't even an hour old, but you could tell his dad would do anything for him. It was amazing to see how much love Aaron had in his face just looking at his son. I've never seen him look like that before and it made me so happy for him! Aaron is such a loving person anyway, I know he will be an amazing Dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XgqdnAJn-n0/TijJ393WGPI/AAAAAAAAB5w/1RMecbY5kG8/s1600/EmStSm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 191px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XgqdnAJn-n0/TijJ393WGPI/AAAAAAAAB5w/1RMecbY5kG8/s320/EmStSm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631973297363491058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; His son will look up to him and want to be just like him. This little boy is already loved by so many people, he is one lucky kid.&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to this world little guy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7609606204456055058?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7609606204456055058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7609606204456055058' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7609606204456055058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7609606204456055058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/07/aaron-emerson.html' title='Aaron &amp; Emerson'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uzr7Ixiz5uo/TijJ3n_MASI/AAAAAAAAB5o/AH1FXIpVr-E/s72-c/aastn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-5140606328305295808</id><published>2011-07-15T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-15T07:34:53.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the sun always rises the next morning.</title><content type='html'>Last night I finally got to bed, WAY too late. I turned off my alarm clock, and prayed I would sleep in a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course not, what was I thinking. My body doesn't know how to sleep in, no matter how late I go to bed I still wake up bright and early. I enjoyed the coziness of my blanket for a while and then picked myself up and got ready for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm surprisingly, not as tired as I thought I would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed a beautiful morning walk with Abbie, ate a yummy breakfast, and got right to work. I think I'm going to make today a short day at the office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I am Denver bound . . . out of the Provo airport! I'm so excited I don't have to deal with SLC I could Jump up and down for 5 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh and a small ps. Aaron's wife is in labor. I should have my first nephew in just a couple hours!!! woot woot. I'm so excited for Aaron. He will be an amazing dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-5140606328305295808?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/5140606328305295808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=5140606328305295808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/5140606328305295808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/5140606328305295808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/07/sun-always-rises-next-morning.html' title='the sun always rises the next morning.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7189411744124804279</id><published>2011-07-14T20:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T20:50:28.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I think I could sleep until noon tomorrow.</title><content type='html'>I am exhausted. Just drained: physically and mentally. I still have a long night ahead of me. (which is why I'm wasting precious moments blogging. haha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm getting through today because I have two new shoes on . . . a different one on each foot. Yup. That's how I roll. They just came in the mail today and I had to try them both on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7189411744124804279?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7189411744124804279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7189411744124804279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7189411744124804279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7189411744124804279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-think-i-could-sleep-until-noon.html' title='I think I could sleep until noon tomorrow.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7574238937608279203</id><published>2011-07-09T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-09T21:15:14.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>14 ... really?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I know I don't look 23. I'm ok with that. I am even ok being carded for 18,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BUT seriously people I don't look 14!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brian wonders why I sit in the back of church and don't talk to anyone on Sundays . . . that's your answer. Thankfully, there is one amazing person in my ward (yes, that's right just one), who will actually talk to me and doesn't treat me like an outcast just because I don't have kids! In their defense I get that most of the people in my ward are older and have families, lots who have grandkids and even great grandkids. Still, it's ridiculous that I'm treated like and looked at like I'm just a kid because I don't have any of my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, I'm just excited to go to my parents ward where people love you no matter what. You don't have to fit into a certain age group or family status for people to talk to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, next week I get to be with one of my besties in Colorado. (Is it bad that I'm looking forward to any chance not to go to my ward?) What are the rules with finding a new ward? I'm in UT there have to be options. I guess for now, I'll just keep hanging out with the young women in my neighborhood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7574238937608279203?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7574238937608279203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7574238937608279203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7574238937608279203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7574238937608279203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/07/14-really.html' title='14 ... really?'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7709041904218724956</id><published>2011-06-27T09:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T11:11:48.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sad day.</title><content type='html'>This morning I was reading an article from business week and in it a "Scholar of Mormonism" is quoted about educated women in the LDS chruch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melissa Proctor, "A Mormon woman who has post-graduate education is less likely to attend church."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is sad. Regardless of whether you are male or female, if you pattern your life after the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ then nothing else should come before your love for Christ not your job status, not your education level, not your family. Then when Christ is the center of your life everything else finds it's place, it's all about balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really not what I would consider a "feminist," but when articles like this come up, it makes me want to prove something (shocking, I know). It gives me an added desire to not be just another statistic, but instead an outlier. It is very possible that a woman who desires education and to attain all the intelligence in life available to her (which is encouraged in the Gospel of Jesus Christ), can still be an active member of the LDS church. BYU is a perfect example, a school full of women professors who lead amazing lives, are educated even beyond masters degrees, and are still wonderfully faithful members, who also serve their families.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm committing today to not be another woman who adds to this sad statistic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, the article was actually pretty good. There were several other happy statistics given and it really showed how distinct LDS people are, especially those who have served missions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7709041904218724956?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7709041904218724956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7709041904218724956' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7709041904218724956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7709041904218724956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/06/sad-day.html' title='sad day.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-3018109176092149226</id><published>2011-06-16T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T22:58:46.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the tough get going!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Don't sacrifice what you want most for&lt;br /&gt;what you want now! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best idea ever. But worst idea for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it's so hard to give up the sunshine, free time, and playing around. I would love to decorate the cottage, spend more time in my garden, get involved in some community service projects, be more active in my calling, spend more time with family and friends, coach a soccer team, travel to other countries, or just chill at home with my husby. But, I know the sacrifice now is going to be worth it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like the world is just about at my fingertips. I know I can do anything with my life, but right now is when I have to make those critical sacrifices and take advantage of every opportunity in front of me to gain experience and expand my knowledge. Working 2 jobs for the fun of it, heck YA! Studying, reading, learning, loving with all my heart, and planning time to make sure the most important things always take priority. It's all part of being determined to say, Father, "I did everything I could with the talents you gave me, look what I turned them into."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying I don't ever wonder what it would be like to work just 40 hours one week, but I know the blessings from hard work will come. I know sacrificing free time now to study will give me strength. God knows there is no way to grow without being tested and the time to build a strong character and form habits is when the choice is hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;"Strength does not come from winning.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;Your struggles develop your strengths.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;WHEN YOU GO THROUGH HARDSHIPS  AND DECIDE NOT TO SURRENDER, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;THAT IS STRENGTH!"  (Arnold Schwarzenegger)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe strongly that the only thing we take from this life is the intelligence we gain and the character we make of our souls. This earth life is a timed test, the only catch is that we don't know how much time we will get. There might not be time to wait for the next opportunity to come around, you might not get to tell your other half you love them tomorrow, there might not be a better time than right now to start making your dreams come true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-3018109176092149226?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/3018109176092149226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=3018109176092149226' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3018109176092149226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3018109176092149226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/06/tough-get-going.html' title='the tough get going!'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-4291389187556035960</id><published>2011-06-06T23:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T23:36:13.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mixed emotions</title><content type='html'>Fact #1 - Whenever I can't sleep, I write. I guess it helps clear my head a bit, or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fact #2 - My team played awesome tonight. I love my little wootah team. It's by far my favorite team right now. A team full of friends and neighbors! There is nothing like being out on the pitch to take my mine off major stress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fact #3 - I took an afternoon nap. WHAT? I almost never take naps. and even less frequently, do I take them in the afternoon (mostly because I'm always working in the afternoon). I slept on one couch, while Marcus slept on the other. Bonding moments ... or maybe not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fact #4 - I went to Brian's softball game after my game and I think I watched 2 hits the whole game. Yes, I call that talented. haha. I was actually working on a few headbands while I watched. I'm going for that it's being there to support that counts. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fact #5 - I got some news today that isn't settling well with me at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-4291389187556035960?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/4291389187556035960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=4291389187556035960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/4291389187556035960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/4291389187556035960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/06/mixed-emotions.html' title='mixed emotions'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-5005850989972280196</id><published>2011-05-31T23:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T09:19:44.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Graduation, memorial day, &amp; he-tom</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Memorial weekend was pretty low key this year. I spent most of Saturday and Sunday in bed feeling pretty cruddy--yes, I caved and let my stomach win. Not to mind though, I felt much better Monday. (side note, I think if I ever tried to not believe in God, I couldn't because He is the smartest man ever making Sunday a recovery day, before you start the next crazy week. I know I for sure need it. :))&lt;br /&gt;So Monday morning I went up the outlets in P.C. and did some serious DEAL shopping. I LOVE LOVE LOVE a good deal! I only spent $130ish of my own money on all of this!!! Nike, Gap, Banana, and Ann Taylor practically got robbed. :) Thrilled about that! The most expensive thing I bought was the suit jacket for $40 (regularly over $100). The Black and Blue dress was only $6! I used a couple of gift cards given to me by work, 20%-40% off entire purchase coupons, took advantage of the memorial day promos, and shopped the sales to find treasured steals. I'm still pretty excited about all of this! haha, I'm not crazy, but I love me some good Nike &amp;amp; Banana clothing and on my newlywed budget I have to get creative. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r6dhrwD0uFI/TecOXh-SAEI/AAAAAAAAB1I/5K-ECTS3PUU/s1600/shpngdls.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r6dhrwD0uFI/TecOXh-SAEI/AAAAAAAAB1I/5K-ECTS3PUU/s320/shpngdls.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613471257959989314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For Brian - shorts, 2 polos, a nice dress shirt. For Marcus - bball shorts (not pictured). For yours truly - capris, sweat pants, a dress, a skirt, a suit coat, 2 pairs of slacks, 7 shirts/blouses, sports bra, spandex, 2 pairs of running shorts (for a 1/2 marathon I'm running with my bff), flip flops, and a headband!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Thursday&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe these two are graduated from HS! As much as I try and  convince myself they really should be Freshman, it doesn't work because  they are amazing individuals! I have lots more to say about this, not  today though. Please excuse the blurry camera phone pics. One day I will get a real camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ku_zc3IepJs/TecOXay6b7I/AAAAAAAAB1A/BjJSFoG3E9s/s1600/mrcsgrad.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ku_zc3IepJs/TecOXay6b7I/AAAAAAAAB1A/BjJSFoG3E9s/s320/mrcsgrad.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613471256033259442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;MARCUS &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TS5OvpofgKw/TecOYVqp_cI/AAAAAAAAB1Y/JLl_cjbc3ZY/s1600/brlygrad.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TS5OvpofgKw/TecOYVqp_cI/AAAAAAAAB1Y/JLl_cjbc3ZY/s320/brlygrad.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613471271836319170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BERLY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UeSBcp16klY/TecOXmp3NYI/AAAAAAAAB1Q/ZfQnoAjQB5c/s1600/hmtma.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 174px; height: 260px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UeSBcp16klY/TecOXmp3NYI/AAAAAAAAB1Q/ZfQnoAjQB5c/s320/hmtma.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613471259216524674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a Hematoma! Cool Huh. I have no idea if that's really how you spell it, that's why I'm not a doctor. ;) What I do know is that it likes to wake me up at night, it's a WEIRD texture, it hurts, and it's not going away anytime soon. Fun times. FUN TIMES. I've nicknamed it He-tom. For the next 3 months I have to keep my golf-ball sized blood clot wrapped 24/7, take blood thinners, and put heat on it a couple/few times a day. 3 months huh Doc, well we will see how long I keep up this regimen before it bugs me more than the pain.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-5005850989972280196?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/5005850989972280196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=5005850989972280196' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/5005850989972280196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/5005850989972280196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/05/graduation-memorial-day-he-tom.html' title='Graduation, memorial day, &amp; he-tom'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r6dhrwD0uFI/TecOXh-SAEI/AAAAAAAAB1I/5K-ECTS3PUU/s72-c/shpngdls.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-3442712584827480090</id><published>2011-05-28T22:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T23:13:57.125-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it's the little things.</title><content type='html'>Don't watch these if you aren't in a place where you can laugh out loud. ohmygosh! So funny. (maybe everyone else has already seen these commercials on tv, and I'm the only one out of the loop, but for my fellow non-tv-watching friends--enjoy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/hxHLF5GaRUA" allowfullscreen="" width="560" frameborder="0" height="349"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/SlpTf45H3BM" allowfullscreen="" width="560" frameborder="0" height="349"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-3442712584827480090?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/3442712584827480090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=3442712584827480090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3442712584827480090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3442712584827480090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/05/its-little-things.html' title='it&apos;s the little things.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/hxHLF5GaRUA/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-1759331288837187581</id><published>2011-05-26T21:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T23:12:18.451-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it's only 10 p.m., but it feels like 1 a.m.</title><content type='html'>I just sat down for what feels like the first time today. I'm exhausted (so, why am I blogging and not sleeping?  good question, I don't know), after running from one place to another all day long.&lt;br /&gt;and now here I am typing this out wondering what tomorrow will bring?! I'm not quite sure, but I am excited for another day (of what will probably be more running around). :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though every day just makes me older, which stresses me out big time lately, I love that I know the sun is going to come from behind the beautiful mountain and fill my room with light to wake me up. I love knowing that even if I didn't do everything right today that tomorrow is another chance to be better. I love knowing that tomorrow will bring surprises. I love knowing that, while I wished I could plan and completely prepare for everything before it comes, God knows much more than I do and he will bring the best moments to life, so glad I can trust Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;time for bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-1759331288837187581?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/1759331288837187581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=1759331288837187581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1759331288837187581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1759331288837187581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/05/its-only-10-pm-but-it-feels-like-1-am.html' title='it&apos;s only 10 p.m., but it feels like 1 a.m.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-2666110085795328426</id><published>2011-05-20T10:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T11:19:52.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I feel like time is constantly speeding up.</title><content type='html'>To apply or not to apply, that is the question . . . on my mind today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:trackmoves/&gt;   &lt;w:trackformatting/&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:donotpromoteqf/&gt;   &lt;w:lidthemeother&gt;EN-US&lt;/w:LidThemeOther&gt;   &lt;w:lidthemeasian&gt;JA&lt;/w:LidThemeAsian&gt;   &lt;w:lidthemecomplexscript&gt;X-NONE&lt;/w:LidThemeComplexScript&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;    &lt;w:splitpgbreakandparamark/&gt;    &lt;w:dontvertaligncellwithsp/&gt;    &lt;w:dontbreakconstrainedforcedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:dontvertalignintxbx/&gt;    &lt;w:word11kerningpairs/&gt; 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 mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I know for sure (100%) I am going back to school. I’m just not done. And I know I want to actually go back to school and not just do some online program. I know a lot of people are content to just read a few books and take a few tests if that gives them the paper that says they graduated and that’s good for them. But, if I could teach myself everything I needed for a masters from home I wouldn’t be satisfied with it. I want to go back because I know there are people with incredible experience and wisdom out there and I want to learn from them! I want to find the best program for what I want and go there. So I know I have to plan school back into my life. I just haven’t figured out when. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m a little stressed out today. There are so many things I want to do/accomplish and only so many hours in a day with only so many days in a year and only so many years in a lifetime. Grrr…what a pain! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-2666110085795328426?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/2666110085795328426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=2666110085795328426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2666110085795328426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2666110085795328426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-feel-like-time-is-constantly-speeding.html' title='I feel like time is constantly speeding up.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-3295107042779767403</id><published>2011-05-15T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-16T11:43:50.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Does your husband beat you?</title><content type='html'>Today I went to church alone (Brian is still "injured" and couldn't make it) which really didn't help my case. Well right after sacrament meeting I totally got the did-your-husband-give-you-all-those-bruises look! I can't blame this guy too much I have 3 bruises on one arm and my elbow bruised up on the other arm ... then my legs well, let's just say half of one of my legs is one big dark bruise and scatters of purple, blue, and red adorn the other one. Oh, and then there's my eye. Let's be honest, no matter what you tell someone about how you got your black eye they NEVER believe you. I look kinda pathetic and I'm a little sore to the touch, but I wouldn't trade the 3 awesome games in 24 hours for a normal looking epidermis. not today. not tomorrow. not ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of husbands after a very fun chat with one of my good friends I learned some of Brian's "quirks" aren't Brian specific, but more husband specific ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking I'll post some of these funny things you learn about husbands when you live with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what my Sunday looked like. Peaceful for sure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JVUxYI3Zqrs/TdFwUHwa9QI/AAAAAAAABz4/RmNVecSKx78/s1600/slpfam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JVUxYI3Zqrs/TdFwUHwa9QI/AAAAAAAABz4/RmNVecSKx78/s320/slpfam.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607386502034814210" 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/6963600660288347516-3295107042779767403?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/3295107042779767403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=3295107042779767403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3295107042779767403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3295107042779767403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/05/does-your-husband-beat-you.html' title='Does your husband beat you?'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JVUxYI3Zqrs/TdFwUHwa9QI/AAAAAAAABz4/RmNVecSKx78/s72-c/slpfam.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7472497558343294491</id><published>2011-05-03T09:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-03T09:21:45.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ummm ... struggles.</title><content type='html'>Last night when I was driving home I missed the turn to my cottage. Wow, right? I've lived there since last July you'd think I'd know how to get there by now. Well don't worry that's not the best part. I didn't even realize I had missed the turn until I turned on the street I thought was my street and then didn't know where I was. This my friends with what I call real skills!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to blame it on the fact that is was after 12:30 a.m., but I was wide awake, so I'm not sure that's the case.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7472497558343294491?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7472497558343294491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7472497558343294491' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7472497558343294491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7472497558343294491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/05/ummm-struggles.html' title='ummm ... struggles.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-2155897536682705231</id><published>2011-05-01T13:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T13:11:00.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday thoughts on May 1</title><content type='html'>Today in RS Haley taught about creating an environment of love in our homes and with our families. At the end of her lesson she asked the questions, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"If Christ showed up at your house today, would he feel welcome? Would he feel love? And, would you be at peace with him there?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This got me thinking what does it mean for Christ to feel welcome in my home and in my life. Does that mean we simply open the door and let him come in? Does that mean we spend time with him? Does that mean I don't have to put anything away or get anything out before answering the door? What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I thought, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;what makes me feel welcome in someone's home. &lt;/span&gt;I immediately thought of one of my best friends and how welcome I always feel in her home. This is one place I can go and always feel welcomed and loved when I am there. So, next question, why? What little things is she doing for me that I should be and can be doing for Christ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. In the room where I always sleep and in the kitchen there are a pictures of me. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have pictures of Christ and his houses (temples) in my home.&lt;br /&gt;I don't have at least one in each room. I will work on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. She talks to me all day long.&lt;br /&gt;I talk to Christ each day.&lt;br /&gt;I don't talk to him through out the day. I will work on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. She lets me accompany her to all the places she has to visit.&lt;br /&gt;I fill my days with good activities, I don't hang out in sketchy places.&lt;br /&gt;I am going to make sure I choose to only go places Christ would join me at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. She always finds things to do for me and always does my laundry for me.&lt;br /&gt;I do little things for Brian each day, but I don't always look too far out side my home for other people to serve.&lt;br /&gt;I am going to go out of my way to serve someone outside my home at least 3 times this week. I am going to smile at strangers I pass throughout each day this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. She knows me and what's going on in my life.&lt;br /&gt;I know Christ. I know the "basics" of his gospel.&lt;br /&gt;I am going to study his gospel more. Each week this month I am going to study a different gen conf. talk given by an apostle. I am going to apply the principles in my life and increase my testimony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. She is a lot like me. We have differences or course, but we also have a lot in common.&lt;br /&gt;I try to be Christlike in my actions. I work on improving my imperfections (but the list is long:))&lt;br /&gt;I am going to become more like Him. I am going to work each day at becoming a better disciple of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. She spends time with me.&lt;br /&gt;I need to set aside more time specifically devoted to Christ.&lt;br /&gt;When I was in YW, Tara, a leader challenged all of us to do this 14 day walk with Chirst that would count as one of our personal progress activities. I did it. I loved it. I've done it twice since. I am going to find it and do it again.  (I'll post it when I'm done.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-2155897536682705231?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/2155897536682705231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=2155897536682705231' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2155897536682705231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2155897536682705231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/05/sunday-thoughts-on-may-1.html' title='Sunday thoughts on May 1'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-4398759149975103316</id><published>2011-04-18T20:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T20:53:36.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what do I love about this week</title><content type='html'>seven things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;Tax deadline&lt;/span&gt; is today. That means I am officially married again. &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(until August)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I've &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;cooked&lt;/span&gt; 4 meals in the last two days! I love to cook, but only when I have someone else to cook for. &lt;br /&gt;3. Beautiful &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;weather&lt;/span&gt; for the most part with some flurries of snow. Best of both worlds!&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Baby bunnies&lt;/span&gt;. 6 of them. one totally black, one totally white - in the same litter. Not sure how those genetics work.&lt;br /&gt;5. A little &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;road trip&lt;/span&gt; with the husby&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;FHE. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;most most most importantly ... number seven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;MY BIRTHDAY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is this week!!!!! In case you didn't know it is my absolute favorite day of the year, also my favorite holiday, and also a day where I do only as I please! April 21 is just simply the best day of my life and I make sure to celebrate it every chance I get! And since it is now also one of the best days of Brian's life (you know the day his world went from being a world without Sarie to a world with Sarie) I'm thinking he'll get to join in my fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-4398759149975103316?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/4398759149975103316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=4398759149975103316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/4398759149975103316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/4398759149975103316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/04/what-do-i-love-about-this-week.html' title='what do I love about this week'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-6666679614666363320</id><published>2011-04-12T23:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T21:01:47.538-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There's always another side . . .</title><content type='html'>Is our perspective based on our reality or is our reality based on our perspective?&lt;br /&gt;For sure the later. It's incredibly interesting to me what you see when you view or understand reality from two sides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blog goals&lt;br /&gt;1. record cool stuff I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stuff in my bag&lt;br /&gt;1. keys&lt;br /&gt;2. wallet or the card&lt;br /&gt;3. face lotion&lt;br /&gt;4. some snack&lt;br /&gt;5. phone&lt;br /&gt;6. pen and pad&lt;br /&gt;7. chap stick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was great.&lt;br /&gt;slept in, put lunch in the crockpot, went to church, came home finished making lunch, brian got home, ate lunch, cleaned up, put dinner in the crockpot, rested, cleaned out/reoganized the freezer, then same thing to the pantry, took the Abbie for a walk, ate dinner, drilled some holes for the handles on our cabinets, ice cream cones, watched land before time 7 and cuddled, and now just a little bloggin' before I go to bed early! A little cooking, cleaning, and cuddling make any day great. oh and what was even better . . . brian was actually home to enjoy the day with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-6666679614666363320?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/6666679614666363320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=6666679614666363320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6666679614666363320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6666679614666363320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/04/theres-always-another-side.html' title='There&apos;s always another side . . .'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-1809351638666244023</id><published>2011-04-12T20:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T23:18:16.759-07:00</updated><title type='text'>life is full of second chances</title><content type='html'>Least favorite words (at least today)&lt;br /&gt;1. Pat-down (when spoken by an airport security dude, because I look like a terrorist bah.)&lt;br /&gt;2. Piss (It's just ugly and not needed)&lt;br /&gt;3. pretty much all swear words&lt;br /&gt;4. Russia and Alaska (work)&lt;br /&gt;5. tax season&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weekend highlights (3 days was not enough)&lt;br /&gt;1. running 13 miles (at once), before training. I never seem to learn my lesson on this.&lt;br /&gt;2. walking around the zoo, walking the dogs around block&lt;br /&gt;3. hanging out with friends! I'm pretty fun, but even I love some company now and then ;)&lt;br /&gt;4. MY forehead on the front page of the newspaper. haha.&lt;br /&gt;5. guy walking into a gas station with a wifebeater, shorts, and a gun in plane view strapped around his waist. Only in KY.&lt;br /&gt;6. yummy sushi and thai noodles, also sweet potato pancakes changed my life!&lt;br /&gt;7. running through the parking lot in a rain storm and at least 3 inches of water on the ground everywhere!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-1809351638666244023?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/1809351638666244023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=1809351638666244023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1809351638666244023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1809351638666244023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/04/life-is-full-of-second-chances.html' title='life is full of second chances'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7165174514576446108</id><published>2011-04-07T22:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T22:39:00.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a MUCH needed break from reality!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;today's playlist&lt;/span&gt;(s) because one playlist wouldn't get me through the day :)&lt;br /&gt;some mornings, ok, every morning I listen to Train while I get ready for the day.&lt;br /&gt;Then during the day I've been listening to Saturday's conference sessions (not because I'm already getting a head start on re-listening/reading, I was a slacker and had a ski pass that was about to expire, so I hit the slopes last weekend. I wish I was that on top of it. So far, let's just say gen conf is incredible, as always. If you didn't watch or listen to it already &lt;a href="http://www.lds.org/"&gt;go here&lt;/a&gt; and it will change your life! I promise! )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on my way to the airport I jammed to some&lt;br /&gt;bon jovi&lt;br /&gt;the spinners&lt;br /&gt;chicago&lt;br /&gt;and "and do it" to get me &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;in the mood!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I go to bed tonight I can guarantee that I turn on my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sleepy sarie&lt;/span&gt; playlist which includes&lt;br /&gt;a little august rush&lt;br /&gt;some john schmit&lt;br /&gt;phantom&lt;br /&gt;mandy moore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;weekend goals&lt;/span&gt; (cause my weekend starts today and doesn't end until Tuesday!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. plan nothing I "have to" do (which makes the rest of this list a little ironic)&lt;br /&gt;2.  laugh a lot&lt;br /&gt;3. workout every morning and then stretch for at least 15 minutes (gotta get better at my stretching)&lt;br /&gt;4. leave my work at the office. (this is gonna be a struggle.)&lt;br /&gt;5. sleep well&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7165174514576446108?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7165174514576446108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7165174514576446108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7165174514576446108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7165174514576446108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/04/much-needed-break-from-reality.html' title='a MUCH needed break from reality!'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7480241702830099303</id><published>2011-04-01T22:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T22:17:00.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>April Showers Bring Puddle Jumping!</title><content type='html'>list 2 - things I'm good at. I don't really think I could come up with a list of these things ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;list 3 - looking forward to this month!&lt;br /&gt;* My birthday --favorite day of the year!&lt;br /&gt;* Next Thursday! April 7th (find out if Brian's job will be taking us to California or Georgia.)&lt;br /&gt;* Skiing tomorrow with my little brohas&lt;br /&gt;* Gen. Conference.&lt;br /&gt;* Nikki's Wedding.&lt;br /&gt;* Family dinners, parentals' anniversary&lt;br /&gt;* Easter&lt;br /&gt;* Chocolate Covered Strawberries! (using my new double pan)&lt;br /&gt;* Spring CLEANING! love it. love it. love it.&lt;br /&gt;* Outdoor soccer&lt;br /&gt;* Staring my own garden!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7480241702830099303?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7480241702830099303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7480241702830099303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7480241702830099303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7480241702830099303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/04/april-showers-bring-puddle-jumping.html' title='April Showers Bring Puddle Jumping!'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7715848825914343643</id><published>2011-03-28T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T20:53:00.384-07:00</updated><title type='text'>snacks, scoodles, and silly</title><content type='html'>A few things no one needs to know about me, but that I think are fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I am a snacker. All day, almost everyday (with the exception being only days that I don't have time) I snack. I rarely fill full from 3 meals a day. I snack on crackers, dried fruit, fruit snacks, bars: granola, trail mix, cereal (you get the idea), m&amp;amp;ms, gummies, nuts, cheese, carrots, peppers, and pretty much anything I can stash in the drawer of my office desk or my pantry or my purse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Lately, I have developed a flat fettish. Several months ago when looking for some dress flats I found this cute pair of gray shoes (gray is also a recently developed love in my life) at TJ Maxx for $13--Thrilled about that. Later my dad deemed them my alien shoes, but never mind his bad fashion sense. I wore them anyway, the very next day. My life changed that day. They just so happen to be my most comfortable "dress" shoes ever. Since then I have followed the advice of my best-fashion-savvy friend who once told me, "when you find a shoe that fits, buy it in every color." I have searched everywhere for good deals on shoes made by blowfish. I have not once been disappointed in the comfort and look. Comfort being my number one! I may or may not have purchased at least 5 pairs of these shoes in the last couple of months. :)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mCe8-jLDC7o/TY-QORGwbLI/AAAAAAAABzI/bRyV7_1BiUw/s1600/scoodle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 246px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mCe8-jLDC7o/TY-QORGwbLI/AAAAAAAABzI/bRyV7_1BiUw/s320/scoodle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588844237374385330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm hoping this pair of grape, 8.5, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;scoodles &lt;/span&gt;will be my next blowfish purchase, however I'm going to have to wait to find them on sale. I love the name scoodle and the color grape. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I can laugh myself silly for hours! Literally. I love a good joke, a funny story, a trip that lands me on my face, a ridiculous voice, or a fun night with the girls (sometimes even the boy;)).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7715848825914343643?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7715848825914343643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7715848825914343643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7715848825914343643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7715848825914343643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/03/snacks-scoodles-and-silly.html' title='snacks, scoodles, and silly'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mCe8-jLDC7o/TY-QORGwbLI/AAAAAAAABzI/bRyV7_1BiUw/s72-c/scoodle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-5691784465680251840</id><published>2011-03-26T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T22:17:04.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love lists.</title><content type='html'>Do I love lists? That's like asking a fat kid if he loves cake! Naturally, when I came across this &lt;a href="http://30daysoflists.blogspot.com/"&gt;30 days of lists &lt;/a&gt;blog, I had to join the fun. Plus the blog prompts are a good way to get me thinking and writing. I'm so excited about this I want to write them all tonight. haha. I'm a nerd, I know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fun daily list, can life get better? I just don't think it can!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. a few things about myself&lt;br /&gt;2. things I'm good at&lt;br /&gt;3. things I'm looking forward to&lt;br /&gt;4. today's playlist&lt;br /&gt;5. weekend goals&lt;br /&gt;6. least favorite words&lt;br /&gt;7. blog goals&lt;br /&gt;8. what's in my bag (what do I carry around everyday)&lt;br /&gt;9. favorite websites/blogs&lt;br /&gt;10. wishlist&lt;br /&gt;11. date night ideas&lt;br /&gt;12. weekly rituals&lt;br /&gt;13. shopping list&lt;br /&gt;14. DIYs I want to try&lt;br /&gt;15. things I love about ...&lt;br /&gt;16. things to do in my town&lt;br /&gt;17. words that are hard to spell&lt;br /&gt;18. road trip must haves&lt;br /&gt;19. recipes to try&lt;br /&gt;20. celebrity crushes&lt;br /&gt;21. things to do this spring&lt;br /&gt;22. today I saw&lt;br /&gt;23. guilty pleasures&lt;br /&gt;24. I make lists for&lt;br /&gt;25. things I'd rather be doing&lt;br /&gt;26. Books I'd like to read this year&lt;br /&gt;27. lessons learned&lt;br /&gt;28. vacations to take&lt;br /&gt;29. favorite foods&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps. I wish I drank champagne, so I could use the phrase "pop some bubbly"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pps. I went to Tucanos today with my parents and little brohas. It's was AMAZING. Seafood night which meant: shrimp! salmon! cod! all along with the usual delicious meats. It's places like this that make me wonder how anyone could be vegan. Sad days for them. Since Marcus and I are now sporting the same "sweeping" look with our hair I wanted to take a picture. Then, we ended up taking this picture ... there are no words for how ridiculous I think my floating head looks, but I still love it. Mostly because I love these two boys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XiEUR-AW3Vc/TY7VzRHlyUI/AAAAAAAABzA/lA-r5AtFkUk/s1600/littuc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XiEUR-AW3Vc/TY7VzRHlyUI/AAAAAAAABzA/lA-r5AtFkUk/s320/littuc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588639264358648130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ppps. It turns out that time is irrelevant in friendships. True friends can go months, and even years without seeing each other only to pick up right where they left off. It's so easy to just chat and laugh and play with the people you love. I think I am one of the luckiest people to have EVER walked this earth because I have the most incredible people surrounding me! I don't get enough of spending time with people who I admire. I am hoping that one day I will grow to be more like each one of them. I just can't get over the talent possessed by my friends. I feel like that sounds so cheesy, and I loathe cheese, but it so happens to be true. My friends never stop amazing me with the things they can do. I must be their charity project because I'm not sure why they decide to love me. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-5691784465680251840?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/5691784465680251840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=5691784465680251840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/5691784465680251840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/5691784465680251840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-love-lists.html' title='I love lists.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XiEUR-AW3Vc/TY7VzRHlyUI/AAAAAAAABzA/lA-r5AtFkUk/s72-c/littuc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-177065965507568173</id><published>2011-03-25T20:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-25T20:05:00.349-07:00</updated><title type='text'>30 someone I miss</title><content type='html'>I love her. I miss her laugh. I miss her heart. I miss her advice. I miss her horrible driving. I miss her. everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dx6yGIAsI_w/TYwkWR68AFI/AAAAAAAABx4/xdK6h4xYDWw/s1600/scan0016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dx6yGIAsI_w/TYwkWR68AFI/AAAAAAAABx4/xdK6h4xYDWw/s320/scan0016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587881202846269522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One thing I've learned in the last 4 years is that once you love someone more than yourself you'll never stop loving them no matter how far away they are, no matter how often you get to talk to them, no matter what. Love has no boundaries, not even death can break the ties made by the heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-177065965507568173?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/177065965507568173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=177065965507568173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/177065965507568173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/177065965507568173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/03/30-someone-i-miss.html' title='30 someone I miss'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dx6yGIAsI_w/TYwkWR68AFI/AAAAAAAABx4/xdK6h4xYDWw/s72-c/scan0016.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-9026211655565557923</id><published>2011-03-24T22:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-24T22:49:43.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>29 - smiles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3gV12CqZxcA/TYwp2b9J48I/AAAAAAAABy4/bbGorZ2hHe0/s1600/DSC04973.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3gV12CqZxcA/TYwp2b9J48I/AAAAAAAABy4/bbGorZ2hHe0/s320/DSC04973.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587887252853875650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well, like laughing, pretty much any good memory makes me smile :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a great day! Totally sad about BYU. What happened in OT I don't even know. However, a few other things made up for byu breaking my heart, such as being clever and cute with chocolate frogs, coldstone with the brohas, Nat working her magic on me, Rumbi for lunch, and playing with the puppy. love a good care free day now and then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-9026211655565557923?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/9026211655565557923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=9026211655565557923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/9026211655565557923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/9026211655565557923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/03/29-smiles.html' title='29 - smiles'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3gV12CqZxcA/TYwp2b9J48I/AAAAAAAABy4/bbGorZ2hHe0/s72-c/DSC04973.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-5665287106214906431</id><published>2011-03-21T23:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T23:19:00.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>28 scared. terrfied, yikesville.</title><content type='html'>sometime between&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yjd8azD62oE/TYg2ABseL2I/AAAAAAAABxY/spU7eifN3H4/s1600/cbr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yjd8azD62oE/TYg2ABseL2I/AAAAAAAABxY/spU7eifN3H4/s320/cbr.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586774711835963234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-itzcMlsIEPk/TYg2AZgodpI/AAAAAAAABxg/gM41CZlO6sE/s1600/whtth.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-itzcMlsIEPk/TYg2AZgodpI/AAAAAAAABxg/gM41CZlO6sE/s320/whtth.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586774718228756114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find love. MUCH closer to the second here for sure. Kids are amazing. I can't get enough laughing with this kid, but babies, AWH, they just stress me out! I can't seem to get over how tiny and breakable they are when they are first born. Holding them ... makes every part of me tense up and not work right. I get so nervous worrying that I might hurt it, I forget how to breathe. Then that just adds to my stress, so while I try to remember it will be ok and how to pull air in and out of my lungs, I realize that I'm not paying 100% attention to it. And the cycle begins again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps. Thanks Dani, for having my favorite kid on earth!!! Now, if you could just not live 5,000 miles away! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-5665287106214906431?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/5665287106214906431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=5665287106214906431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/5665287106214906431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/5665287106214906431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/03/28-scared-terrfied-yikesville.html' title='28 scared. terrfied, yikesville.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yjd8azD62oE/TYg2ABseL2I/AAAAAAAABxY/spU7eifN3H4/s72-c/cbr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-2517326265057453319</id><published>2011-03-19T23:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T00:13:58.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'>26 - means a lot, and 27 by accident</title><content type='html'>First, yes I know I skipped a couple. This is my blog, I do as I please. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5qWguCEjoug/TYWmhvqHQAI/AAAAAAAABxQ/THPdmakvLu0/s1600/ttmp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5qWguCEjoug/TYWmhvqHQAI/AAAAAAAABxQ/THPdmakvLu0/s320/ttmp.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586054011481964546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Temples are a very special place for me. Quiet. Peaceful. Lovely. Inspirational. The Mt. Timpanogos Temple is extra special and means a lot to me because Bri and I were married there. It's gorgeous on the outside and elegant on the side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After posting this I looked at what was next on my list. A picture of me and a family member. Well, that's what this is. Me and my FAVORITE family member in front of a place that means a lot to us. It's the place that made us family, which is obviously awesome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-2517326265057453319?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/2517326265057453319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=2517326265057453319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2517326265057453319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2517326265057453319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/03/26-means-lot.html' title='26 - means a lot, and 27 by accident'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5qWguCEjoug/TYWmhvqHQAI/AAAAAAAABxQ/THPdmakvLu0/s72-c/ttmp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-402319679310946873</id><published>2011-03-12T22:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-13T12:17:41.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>25 my (satur)day</title><content type='html'>This morning we started our day by having a contest to see who could clean up (after Abbie) their side of the cottage first. Man, she has a lot of business to do! hehe. Then a quick bite and off to work for us. I ran a few work errands and then went into the office. I moved "the big stuff" from my old office to my new office (it has a WINDOW!). Went to lunch with the dad and the big brother. Then back to work, so Mrs. Coberly and I could run several more errands. We had quite the shopping list! Of course we had to hit target, walmart, roberts, kmart, all a dollar, big lots, party land, zuchers, and papa johns. WOW. Then back to the office to sort out of findings!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k4aMwlhtJ2w/TXxdOTuMDTI/AAAAAAAABxI/56URh7iwzVA/s1600/tpspr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k4aMwlhtJ2w/TXxdOTuMDTI/AAAAAAAABxI/56URh7iwzVA/s320/tpspr.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583440138426125618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Can I just say we looked like we were going to a high school party that would end with someone's house covered in white stuff, the not cold, wet, flaky white stuff. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I moved everything else and cleaned the office from top to bottom. Sterilized and everything. Thoroughly enjoyed this part as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qwfmsce0dI4/TXxdN41pkvI/AAAAAAAABww/VH1s6tcBj6k/s1600/emptfrgd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qwfmsce0dI4/TXxdN41pkvI/AAAAAAAABww/VH1s6tcBj6k/s320/emptfrgd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583440131209663218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yogurt, pickles, or buttermilk? I know the variety is quite overwhelming!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I made it home just in time to start thinking about dinner. Then realized that I for sure needed to go grocery shopping. By the time I got back from that all I felt like eating were a few quickly baked egg rolls. haha. I swear I'm part Asain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2dVIWIGgkB0/TXxdOJS4xTI/AAAAAAAABw4/ZH9BrezzPFM/s1600/frdfl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2dVIWIGgkB0/TXxdOJS4xTI/AAAAAAAABw4/ZH9BrezzPFM/s320/frdfl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583440135627261234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Having a full fridge makes me happy. Gives me the security that in case we are home to eat there will be something to eat and drink. Plus that having full veggie and fruit drawers just makes me smile! Yummy snacks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5eC3JTudBC8/TXxdObN8nuI/AAAAAAAABxA/gOQQ8nhwg-c/s1600/snblfgtw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5eC3JTudBC8/TXxdObN8nuI/AAAAAAAABxA/gOQQ8nhwg-c/s320/snblfgtw.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583440140438380258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then a little snowball fighting with some miis on my wii, while of course jamming to Train. I never get sick of them (Especially, since I have close to one million of their songs on my ipod)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, just trying to figure out what to do before I finally fall asleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-402319679310946873?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/402319679310946873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=402319679310946873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/402319679310946873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/402319679310946873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/03/25-my-saturday.html' title='25 my (satur)day'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k4aMwlhtJ2w/TXxdOTuMDTI/AAAAAAAABxI/56URh7iwzVA/s72-c/tpspr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-397458798251770278</id><published>2011-03-11T20:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T20:42:09.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How</title><content type='html'>I had a major awakening tonight. I finally understood something I've been reading and hearing my whole life. With the help of Elder Holland, the New Testament, and the adversary. Interesting team, right. I can honestly say I am grateful for my sad experience tonight, the tears are so worth the understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday morning I went to the Salt Lake Temple with a good friend. We first went to the hospital to spend some time with her 5-year-old sister who had been there for a few days. I can't stop thinking about the look on her face when she saw us. We had so much fun cheering her up and making her laugh. I feel a little guilty that I probably enjoyed it just as much as she did. She gives the best hugs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we left we made it to the temple just in time to miss the 11 o'clock session, but right in time to get in 57 minutes of scripture study before the next one. :) I love love love the sermon on the mount as found in Matthew. I carefully read a certain section over and over. Not knowing exactly why. I understood so many thing better and more completely than ever before. It was an amazing experience. I left the temple on a spiritual high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then today I listened to a few of my new favorite "mormon messages."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So Christ loved us and that is HOW he hoped we would love each other."  Elder Holland&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Christ was on the earth he was treated horribly. He was spit on. He was insulted. He took "below the belt" hits all the time, I'm sure. He was misinterpreted. He was tortured.&lt;br /&gt;Yet, through all the horribleness he still loved each of his brothers and sisters. He prayed for them and felt sorrow for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matthew records Christ saying, "&lt;span class="verse"&gt;44&lt;/span&gt;But  I say unto you, love &lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;your &lt;/span&gt;enemie&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;bless &lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;them that &lt;/span&gt;curse&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;  you, do &lt;/span&gt;good&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;  to them that &lt;/span&gt;hate&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;  you, and pray &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;for them which despitefully use you, and &lt;/span&gt;persecute&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;  you;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="bookmark  dontHighlight" href="" name="45" style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="bookmark dontHighlight" href="" name="46" style="color: black;"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="verse" style="color: black;"&gt;46&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;For if ye &lt;/span&gt;love&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;  them which love you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the  same?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unconditionally, has a new meaning to me. Christ commanded us to love one another. Including those people who are mean and hurtful. It's easy to love those who love us, but it is hard to love those who do not love us. Life isn't easy. Christ expects both. To return to him we must love both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What good would a lesson be if God didn't give me an experience to test out my newly acquired understanding?! He assumed it would be no good and didn't procrastinate putting me a position where I would be tempted to fight back and defend myself. He also didn't leave me alone. With the help of my Savior I let the insults and hatred pass by without retaliation. As I did I started to feel sorrow and  compassion for a soul that holds only insecurity, bitterness, and hate in their heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As promised I was rewarded fully. I felt a true peace. I know my Savior loves me and that love is more important than anything else I could feel right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-397458798251770278?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/397458798251770278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=397458798251770278' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/397458798251770278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/397458798251770278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/03/how.html' title='How'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-3858146487157107433</id><published>2011-03-10T23:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-10T23:59:17.563-08:00</updated><title type='text'>21-22 better at</title><content type='html'>21 is something I wish I could forget, so I'm not going to waste time trying to remember something I wished I could forget. This makes no sense. I know. Moving on ...&lt;br /&gt;22 is something I wish I was better at. Well, that sums up my life. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;. But really not kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JPGDLy0YdBk/TXnLxkfDn9I/AAAAAAAABwo/s1RnYZ05Qj0/s1600/lilbr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JPGDLy0YdBk/TXnLxkfDn9I/AAAAAAAABwo/s1RnYZ05Qj0/s320/lilbr.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582717265570406354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I wish I was better at training my pet bear. She has a mind of her own, and only listens when she thinks it will benefit her-I have a teenager! I've gotta break that, before my neighbors break me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Onto other news&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday and today I got kicked out of work at 6:30. My boss told me I work too hard, I'm not sure how to take that. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;. I'm thinking of leaving right when I hit 8 hours tomorrow, just to throw them off. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;HAHA&lt;/span&gt; I feel so sneaky just plotting this. wow. I have no life. humm, I wonder what I'll do with so many hours to myself. awh, possibilities. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a very exciting secret, I want to let it out, but can't. How annoying is that. Talking about not talking about it isn't helping either. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;urgh&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of secrets, another one I've been keeping, along with a select group of highly awesome individuals, has managed to stay locked up for a couple of months. I am 100% shocked this secret hasn't leaked yet. Thrilled to pieces it's going to be a sweet surprise!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-3858146487157107433?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/3858146487157107433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=3858146487157107433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3858146487157107433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3858146487157107433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/03/21-22-better-at.html' title='21-22 better at'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JPGDLy0YdBk/TXnLxkfDn9I/AAAAAAAABwo/s1RnYZ05Qj0/s72-c/lilbr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7041725737311362736</id><published>2011-03-08T22:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T23:02:06.513-08:00</updated><title type='text'>20 places to go,</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zi7xXC_1VKI/TXch73HNKOI/AAAAAAAABwg/XWoY2gCsL0M/s1600/japhschtr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zi7xXC_1VKI/TXch73HNKOI/AAAAAAAABwg/XWoY2gCsL0M/s320/japhschtr.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581967575439190242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For about the past 9 months I've had this desire warming up on my back burner, but knowing pretty much both of these are out of the question for several years, I haven't thought too hard or even mentioned them to anyone. I just think it would be so fun to visit Australia and Japan. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L-2EzT2ukFU/TXch7qhKJgI/AAAAAAAABwY/kLQ4aLdTC1E/s1600/ausbrd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L-2EzT2ukFU/TXch7qhKJgI/AAAAAAAABwY/kLQ4aLdTC1E/s320/ausbrd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581967572058383874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;PS. I've been working 90% of my waking hours lately, so to leave work at 6:30 with no intention of going back or working from home left me wondering what I would do all night. haha. I had to remind myself this is normal and I actually have a lot I should get done. So, I did some wash, worked out (hiphopabs...lol), then decided to relax, blog stalk, and well catch up on my postings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7041725737311362736?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7041725737311362736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7041725737311362736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7041725737311362736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7041725737311362736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/03/20-places-to-go.html' title='20 places to go,'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zi7xXC_1VKI/TXch73HNKOI/AAAAAAAABwg/XWoY2gCsL0M/s72-c/japhschtr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7766683080977356229</id><published>2011-03-08T22:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T22:21:00.689-08:00</updated><title type='text'>19 little boo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ea_o63w6edY/TXcZr0DnOfI/AAAAAAAABwQ/SVfDraa1dY0/s1600/booshtls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ea_o63w6edY/TXcZr0DnOfI/AAAAAAAABwQ/SVfDraa1dY0/s320/booshtls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581958503647885810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l14ZgTKBDqc/TXcZrtU2FtI/AAAAAAAABwI/PCzSOl-7zWU/s1600/boorkhs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l14ZgTKBDqc/TXcZrtU2FtI/AAAAAAAABwI/PCzSOl-7zWU/s320/boorkhs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581958501841114834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When I was little, people--mostly my dad--called me Boo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7766683080977356229?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7766683080977356229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7766683080977356229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7766683080977356229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7766683080977356229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/03/19-little-boo.html' title='19 little boo'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ea_o63w6edY/TXcZr0DnOfI/AAAAAAAABwQ/SVfDraa1dY0/s72-c/booshtls.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-6966694691051593670</id><published>2011-03-08T22:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T22:18:01.896-08:00</updated><title type='text'>18 insecurity</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure if this is technically an insecurity, but it totally makes me SO SO SO uncomfortable.  I want to curl into a corner and HIDE whenever people publicly praise me. I am fine being up in front of people if I am talking about pretty much any subject other than myself. I definitely don't love it when I'm up in front of group with someone else and they start talking about "how much they love me." I know there are some people who live for this and that's great, but me I would rather be APPRECIATED in SILENCE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this picture doesn't really have anything to do with what I just said, but it's pretty funny anyway. Love her hiding in her hat. :)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rk3c5y4phKw/TXcX16P1QPI/AAAAAAAABwA/Naj73Qo_aeY/s1600/appha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rk3c5y4phKw/TXcX16P1QPI/AAAAAAAABwA/Naj73Qo_aeY/s320/appha.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581956478085185778" 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/6963600660288347516-6966694691051593670?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/6966694691051593670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=6966694691051593670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6966694691051593670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6966694691051593670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/03/18-insecurity.html' title='18 insecurity'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rk3c5y4phKw/TXcX16P1QPI/AAAAAAAABwA/Naj73Qo_aeY/s72-c/appha.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-6457487662644208733</id><published>2011-03-02T21:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T21:38:31.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>17 impact.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9PL37_q1-ZM/TW8lnGQ9oXI/AAAAAAAABvs/qJWHHXqiPbs/s1600/doT.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 201px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9PL37_q1-ZM/TW8lnGQ9oXI/AAAAAAAABvs/qJWHHXqiPbs/s320/doT.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579719816962220402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last July I didn't even know what an essential oil was. Now, I use/diffuse them everyday. My family can't seem to live without them either. Not to mention that I get to work for a great company, with coworkers who make even the tough days fun. I am so thankful that I work in a great, uplifting environment. I. could. not. ask. for. better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-6457487662644208733?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/6457487662644208733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=6457487662644208733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6457487662644208733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6457487662644208733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/03/17-impact.html' title='17 impact.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9PL37_q1-ZM/TW8lnGQ9oXI/AAAAAAAABvs/qJWHHXqiPbs/s72-c/doT.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-1793742290487465269</id><published>2011-03-02T20:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T21:17:56.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>16 inspirational</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8nczw6xHJ0I" frameborder="0"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elder Holland is amazing. He is so good with his words. He shares beautiful insights and inspiring messages. This is just ONE of MANY thoughtful talks that make me excited for the opportunity that life holds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps. I literally skipped from my office to the printer tonight. hahaha no worries, it was so late only Alyssa and I were still around. simple pleasures. simple pleasures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-1793742290487465269?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/1793742290487465269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=1793742290487465269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1793742290487465269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1793742290487465269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/03/16-inspirational.html' title='16 inspirational'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/8nczw6xHJ0I/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-5552988910121133591</id><published>2011-03-01T20:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T11:24:45.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'>15 before I die</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nEQD2r0Wkh4/TW6ZNIP9T_I/AAAAAAAABvk/Gpjq3vXSdt0/s1600/gmaodaat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 183px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nEQD2r0Wkh4/TW6ZNIP9T_I/AAAAAAAABvk/Gpjq3vXSdt0/s320/gmaodaat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579565439190388722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a Bucket list perhaps? nah. I used to have a bucket list, it was one of my favorite lists, but I decided it was pointless. I could die tomorrow and then I'd leave a list of things unfinished, ugh. I'd rather not worry about all the stuff I can't ever cross off for the eternities, thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll follow my grandma and take life "one day at a time"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-5552988910121133591?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/5552988910121133591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=5552988910121133591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/5552988910121133591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/5552988910121133591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/03/15-before-i-die.html' title='15 before I die'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nEQD2r0Wkh4/TW6ZNIP9T_I/AAAAAAAABvk/Gpjq3vXSdt0/s72-c/gmaodaat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-3854870309129525072</id><published>2011-02-25T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T00:00:04.252-08:00</updated><title type='text'>14 dear old dad</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UclqCAQC1NM/TWHxhrfysQI/AAAAAAAABvM/WBgOHw7vb4c/s1600/dddght.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UclqCAQC1NM/TWHxhrfysQI/AAAAAAAABvM/WBgOHw7vb4c/s320/dddght.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576003374575431938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Regardless of the fact that I literally wouldn't have a life without him, I love my daddy. I can't even imagine my life without him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-3854870309129525072?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/3854870309129525072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=3854870309129525072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3854870309129525072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3854870309129525072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/14-dear-old-dad.html' title='14 dear old dad'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UclqCAQC1NM/TWHxhrfysQI/AAAAAAAABvM/WBgOHw7vb4c/s72-c/dddght.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-6612844176221647112</id><published>2011-02-24T22:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-24T22:56:00.752-08:00</updated><title type='text'>12 love it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qKiZsJoUN8Q/TWdL3zmj0vI/AAAAAAAABvc/kmNMarpmXY4/s1600/ch.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 102px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qKiZsJoUN8Q/TWdL3zmj0vI/AAAAAAAABvc/kmNMarpmXY4/s320/ch.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577510085638476530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zC-sGvelcno/TWdL3sodoqI/AAAAAAAABvU/o1WQ58kWEIg/s1600/cah2.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 100px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zC-sGvelcno/TWdL3sodoqI/AAAAAAAABvU/o1WQ58kWEIg/s320/cah2.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577510083767411362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;My daily dose of Calvin and Hobes just makes me laugh every time. I actually look forward to Mondays because when I get to work there are 3 comic strips waiting for me instead of just one. Ah yes, I love life's simple pleasures. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-6612844176221647112?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/6612844176221647112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=6612844176221647112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6612844176221647112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6612844176221647112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/12-love-it.html' title='12 love it.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qKiZsJoUN8Q/TWdL3zmj0vI/AAAAAAAABvc/kmNMarpmXY4/s72-c/ch.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-9142771314141431464</id><published>2011-02-22T00:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T00:03:00.267-08:00</updated><title type='text'>11 hate is strong let's go with pet peeve</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-17N_akZxEyc/TWHvZVmSPeI/AAAAAAAABvE/PmR-cMMSD8w/s1600/prgbly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 183px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-17N_akZxEyc/TWHvZVmSPeI/AAAAAAAABvE/PmR-cMMSD8w/s320/prgbly.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576001032234876386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Couples who say, "we are pregnant," "we went into labor," "we gave birth," or any other phrases relating to having a baby that are not WE-able. I'm fine with "we are expecting," (you can both be planning for it) "we are adding to our family," and other WE appropriate phases. Last time I checked the fetus is inside the woman until SHE goes into labor and SHE gives birth to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The state of being pregnant; the period from conception to  birth when a woman carries a developing fetus in her uterus (definition from Princeton)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I understand that the he got the she pregnant, but unless there's some new way for the he to be carrying a baby as well it's not a WE activity. ok that's all. Thanks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-9142771314141431464?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/9142771314141431464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=9142771314141431464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/9142771314141431464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/9142771314141431464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/11-hate-is-strong-lets-go-with-pet.html' title='11 hate is strong let&apos;s go with pet peeve'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-17N_akZxEyc/TWHvZVmSPeI/AAAAAAAABvE/PmR-cMMSD8w/s72-c/prgbly.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-5897081573352964359</id><published>2011-02-20T20:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T20:53:00.733-08:00</updated><title type='text'>10 ridiculous is an understatement</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SFn7hSm5eA8/TWAWDC6cjPI/AAAAAAAABu0/ZloK3x6033o/s1600/miaandme.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SFn7hSm5eA8/TWAWDC6cjPI/AAAAAAAABu0/ZloK3x6033o/s320/miaandme.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575480580262104306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hfGZrdqFnS8/TWAWC0E26zI/AAAAAAAABus/lOx37rDN5HI/s1600/eyesoshad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hfGZrdqFnS8/TWAWC0E26zI/AAAAAAAABus/lOx37rDN5HI/s320/eyesoshad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575480576279243570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;years of late nights,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;special moments,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;crazy make up,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;long talks,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;papers,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;soccer practices,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;boys,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;food,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;fun trips,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;and never ending laughs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2qmt6R1gkUQ/TWAWjQC6clI/AAAAAAAABu8/u5fPMKbztN8/s1600/memi2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2qmt6R1gkUQ/TWAWjQC6clI/AAAAAAAABu8/u5fPMKbztN8/s320/memi2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575481133543092818" 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/6963600660288347516-5897081573352964359?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/5897081573352964359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=5897081573352964359' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/5897081573352964359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/5897081573352964359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/10-ridiculous-is-understatement.html' title='10 ridiculous is an understatement'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SFn7hSm5eA8/TWAWDC6cjPI/AAAAAAAABu0/ZloK3x6033o/s72-c/miaandme.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-3850573359465069588</id><published>2011-02-19T12:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T12:32:00.443-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes. I'll take one.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Finally a gown meant just for my body type!  For the first time I feel like something fits me like it should. bah. Of course it happens to be a gown that is hideous. Just my luck, right. But I enjoyed it, breezy-ness and all. bahaha&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0aKAMhqfe2s/TV_yRapCsRI/AAAAAAAABuc/cIweVL333vw/s1600/ghbah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0aKAMhqfe2s/TV_yRapCsRI/AAAAAAAABuc/cIweVL333vw/s320/ghbah.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575441244731126034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Well it went ok I guess, all things considered. I feel awful today, and it continuously just gets worse, but since I had to take half a day off yesterday. I went to work this morning. Figured I would be productive and take my mind off it for a while. Plus that the Doc said not to stress myself for a weekish, so I figured the best way to do that is to get stuff done, so I'm not worrying about it. Now blogging, catching up on house, and drinking my favorite tea. Next up a little house cleaning and grocery shopping. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point I have to stop feeling like I just got beat up, right!? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-3850573359465069588?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/3850573359465069588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=3850573359465069588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3850573359465069588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3850573359465069588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/yes-ill-take-one.html' title='Yes. I&apos;ll take one.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0aKAMhqfe2s/TV_yRapCsRI/AAAAAAAABuc/cIweVL333vw/s72-c/ghbah.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-8180352824292119897</id><published>2011-02-19T10:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T10:52:16.318-08:00</updated><title type='text'>09 hands down.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V1IR_ODmiuc/TWAQVaXu0kI/AAAAAAAABuk/60SUnhEsMmQ/s1600/ahwed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V1IR_ODmiuc/TWAQVaXu0kI/AAAAAAAABuk/60SUnhEsMmQ/s320/ahwed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575474298726830658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've never had a friend as good as this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-8180352824292119897?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/8180352824292119897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=8180352824292119897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/8180352824292119897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/8180352824292119897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/09-hands-down.html' title='09 hands down.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V1IR_ODmiuc/TWAQVaXu0kI/AAAAAAAABuk/60SUnhEsMmQ/s72-c/ahwed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-3331384423848173509</id><published>2011-02-17T23:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T10:43:20.827-08:00</updated><title type='text'>08 laughter is mandatory.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eX43CU1fZBY/TV4D6hhnMaI/AAAAAAAABuQ/PwNERgAF7sE/s1600/ewoh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eX43CU1fZBY/TV4D6hhnMaI/AAAAAAAABuQ/PwNERgAF7sE/s320/ewoh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574897692697899426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sometimes, I hate that everything makes me laugh. But, most of the time I love it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-3331384423848173509?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/3331384423848173509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=3331384423848173509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3331384423848173509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/3331384423848173509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/08-laughter-is-mandatory.html' title='08 laughter is mandatory.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eX43CU1fZBY/TV4D6hhnMaI/AAAAAAAABuQ/PwNERgAF7sE/s72-c/ewoh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-2443337081804823084</id><published>2011-02-14T23:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T23:41:00.631-08:00</updated><title type='text'>07 - I got nothin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ip5rxA4D4dI/TVhJFPi49MI/AAAAAAAABtQ/itB4MEIiv_8/s1600/oblo.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 76px; height: 98px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ip5rxA4D4dI/TVhJFPi49MI/AAAAAAAABtQ/itB4MEIiv_8/s320/oblo.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573284893292033218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nce upon a time, in a neighborhood set on a hill with a grandview there lived a family of 7. The 5 children were good children. The parents taught them well. One bright Saturday morning the father was down the road from their home selling goods, which they no longer had a need for, on the side of a well traveled road. The mother was out and about getting the weekly supplies the family would need at a local market. The eldest of the sons was working on the yard of their neighbors, just across the road. One daughter was off hiking through near by fields, while another daughter was quietly playing with a girl who lived in the house across the road. This leaving the two youngest sons home alone to tend the chickens and other animals. After the two boys has finished their morning chores they went inside the house to rest. The older of the two fixed a snacked and stayed in the kitchen to eat. The other son climbed the stairs to his room and then the ladder to finally reach his bed. Once he was there he decided to light a candle, possibly for warmth, possibly for extra light, the exact reason to light the candle is still unknown. He being such a small boy at the time might have just thought it was something to be done for fun. The wick was low and by the time he finally got the flame to stay the fire on the match had reached his finger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[This is where this story really begins] The flame dropped onto the bed below, being enamored by the growing fire the boy sat stunned and watched it grow for time before realizing the danger. Not too long after, the boy downstairs smelled a strange scent. It resembled the bonfires they had in the back, but he knew there were no fires today and it was coming from the upper portion of the home. He quickly ran to find his younger brother, when he found him in the room that was quickly being swallowed by the flames he grabbed his arm and ran for help from his eldest brother. The oldest, wisest brother called for the water trucks. Then ran to get their father. By the time the water trucks and the father arrived it was too late for anything in their home to be saved. The family was sadden as they watched the flames engulf their once beautiful home. they held close to one another knowing things would be okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neighbors near and far helped the family with many needs as they worked to rebuild the home. Finally, the day came that they were able to return to their home and live again. However, this time when they walked in the front door the home was different, it was empty. The paintings and pictures that once adorned the walls were gone. The beds that had snuggled them at night were gone. Their clothes and toys and books and belongings were gone. The furniture that replaced theirs was stiff and not as welcoming. The youngest daughter questioned her father, "now when do all our favorite things move back in?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father paused and then slowly responded, "things, however expensive or precious, have little value, they will come and go for the rest of your life. What you should always be conscious of instead are the people who surround you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That day the girl was changed for life, she understood what her father was saying and like all good little girls took this lesson to heart. Since that day she has never had any prized possessions, but instead treasures the people who surround her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AD0ZXYo3tdE/TVhJFSFw9gI/AAAAAAAABtY/SMl9U-75eYM/s1600/surnd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 416px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AD0ZXYo3tdE/TVhJFSFw9gI/AAAAAAAABtY/SMl9U-75eYM/s320/surnd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573284893975180802" 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/6963600660288347516-2443337081804823084?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/2443337081804823084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=2443337081804823084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2443337081804823084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2443337081804823084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/07-i-got-nothin.html' title='07 - I got nothin&apos;'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ip5rxA4D4dI/TVhJFPi49MI/AAAAAAAABtQ/itB4MEIiv_8/s72-c/oblo.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7831464361333569289</id><published>2011-02-13T20:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T21:32:01.043-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a people watcher. fact.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I was just thinking, no that's not a miracle, I am forced to think daily. I love to think, really. Maybe a more correct sentence would be I was just pondering on a thought. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;People is a very broad classification for a species with SO MUCH variety.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Am I talking about physical looks? Nope. (although I might later)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;What spawned this line of pondering? A girl, who I happen to work with. She is interesting on a bad day and fascinating the rest of the time. Why? Because while I am convinced I have absolutely NOTHING in common with her (except nicknaming certain other people we work with), I like her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;What intrigues me the most is her wardrobe. It consists strictly of dresses and skirts and nylons. YUCK. Can you imagine not owning/wearing pants. I can't. She however, loves this odd choice of dressing habits. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Then I started to think of someone I know who chooses to sit home everyday being a bum progressing from the couch to the kitchen and back to the couch. How un-fulfilling that would be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Next, the parent who loves the white picket fence and 7 children running around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The boy who never stays in one place for more than a few months. Always searching for adventures, never worrying about responsibilities. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The neighbor who puts gross lemons covered in red powder on their porch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bottle blondes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The groupies. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The children of the 60s. (because they are a different class entirely)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Different attitudes, different goals and priorities, different favorites, different dress, different lives. Different. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;What's the purpose behind my pondering? The world must be peopled. Because people are free to think for themselves, they will think differently. They will act according to their own unique desires. They will always surprise you, because just when you think you have them pretty much figured out, a new one is born.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Which, in my opinion, is just how it should be. People watching would be no fun if there was no mystery and no variety. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7831464361333569289?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7831464361333569289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7831464361333569289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7831464361333569289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7831464361333569289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/im-people-watcher-fact.html' title='I&apos;m a people watcher. fact.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-786089693833508950</id><published>2011-02-13T06:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T06:52:20.069-08:00</updated><title type='text'>06 switcheroo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fqcrk_QNN4o/TVYwV1wGjUI/AAAAAAAABtI/UFdLTLeB94c/s1600/lvfn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fqcrk_QNN4o/TVYwV1wGjUI/AAAAAAAABtI/UFdLTLeB94c/s320/lvfn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572694740681788738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I wish I could be one of these people every week. I love Real, yes I love them. I wish I could go to all of their home games. How lovely would that be? I can't even imagine! But let's face it soccer and football are not equal. One day, hopefully, but for now it's up to FSC and these soccer hooligans for me to vicariously live out my dream of being one of these people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;* * *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;While I'm on the LFC subject I have to make comment on the recent changes. I'm devastated, but I understand, Torres left. The new LAME owners of LFC don't know anything about soccer and especially not EPL soccer. I'm worried for my team, they will always be my favorite, but red or blue I'll be cheering for Torres too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-786089693833508950?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/786089693833508950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=786089693833508950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/786089693833508950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/786089693833508950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/06-switcheroo.html' title='06 switcheroo'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fqcrk_QNN4o/TVYwV1wGjUI/AAAAAAAABtI/UFdLTLeB94c/s72-c/lvfn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-136802846376223991</id><published>2011-02-11T19:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T22:30:25.815-08:00</updated><title type='text'>05</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I never know how to pick just one favorite, I don't even have one favorite color. Nope, I have a list of favorite colors. To pick a favorite memory sounds like more of a project, than like fun, so I picked a few of my many favorite memories to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xGEUoG8imMw/TVWEn8YDJCI/AAAAAAAABs4/OOfxZJKNuO4/s1600/ddhot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xGEUoG8imMw/TVWEn8YDJCI/AAAAAAAABs4/OOfxZJKNuO4/s320/ddhot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572505935697617954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Yes, this is exactly what it looks like, dumpster diving. This is about as criminal as I've ever been in my life. "back in the day" we used to have a blast doing this. (this picture represents a lot of laughs, friends, and major good times)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zMgfRq0NYL8/TVWEoMNpZRI/AAAAAAAABtA/5oB6Gk799Lo/s1600/vipbtl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zMgfRq0NYL8/TVWEoMNpZRI/AAAAAAAABtA/5oB6Gk799Lo/s320/vipbtl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572505939948954898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Best roommates! An amazing place to live (London)! I would move back in a heartbeat!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TVWEnmHejeI/AAAAAAAABsw/jOai3b6iCcA/s1600/hnmn.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TVWEnmHejeI/AAAAAAAABsw/jOai3b6iCcA/s320/hnmn.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572505929722531298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The honeymoon. But, I'm sure this isn't a favorite memory for why you might assume. I loved this trip because I got to watch Brian be so proud of himself for planning such a successful and secretive (until his sister hacked his email) adventure for us! On top of that we spent a week doing all of his favorite things, which I thought were pretty fun too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-136802846376223991?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/136802846376223991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=136802846376223991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/136802846376223991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/136802846376223991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/05.html' title='05'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xGEUoG8imMw/TVWEn8YDJCI/AAAAAAAABs4/OOfxZJKNuO4/s72-c/ddhot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-850021394278702030</id><published>2011-02-09T20:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T21:41:53.612-08:00</updated><title type='text'>04. lovely evenings.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TVNzN5TzcHI/AAAAAAAABsg/6OynzIo5MSA/s1600/adaasa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TVNzN5TzcHI/AAAAAAAABsg/6OynzIo5MSA/s320/adaasa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571923846546813042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; Second night this week, I've had little wii tournaments with my bros. Delightfully fun when I don't play like rubbish. They can't touch me when it comes to bowling, but I got my butt kicked at baseball :) I'm going to have to start playing more, so I can keep up with them. It's so nice to have my family all so close that I can spend time with them, especially, this time of year! Plus that I just really love both of these guys. They continually amaze me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TVNzOA_VkuI/AAAAAAAABso/8tJKsggQYm0/s1600/snwywnd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TVNzOA_VkuI/AAAAAAAABso/8tJKsggQYm0/s320/snwywnd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571923848608453346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;As I was walking up the stairs, I realized how beautiful my window looks. It's quite picturesque if you ask me. I love it when it snows, because on the north and west sides of our cottage we have several large windows that always look like this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;ps. I cheated on my diet today, I just couldn't figure out how to have a ham and cheese sandwich without the cheese, what was I supposed to do? This diet is LAME. I didn't even make it through day 3. ugh. I can't imagine there are diseases in heaven, at least there won't be in mine, that I look forward to!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-850021394278702030?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/850021394278702030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=850021394278702030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/850021394278702030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/850021394278702030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/04-lovely-evenings.html' title='04. lovely evenings.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TVNzN5TzcHI/AAAAAAAABsg/6OynzIo5MSA/s72-c/adaasa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-819668427454485290</id><published>2011-02-07T07:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T07:40:32.368-08:00</updated><title type='text'>but I love cows!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have to survive the next 7 days (including today) without eating any dairy products. Is this even possible? What CAN I eat? I'm already starving and it's only been 2 hours! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It took me 15 minutes to figure out what I could take for lunch that wouldn't require a cow to be born. I completely skipped breakfast. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm not even a little happy about this. Starving a person should be considered cruel and unusual punishment! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-819668427454485290?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/819668427454485290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=819668427454485290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/819668427454485290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/819668427454485290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/but-i-love-cows.html' title='but I love cows!'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-1853903241787071187</id><published>2011-02-06T07:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T07:22:32.020-08:00</updated><title type='text'>03</title><content type='html'>Can these guys count as my favorite cast of a show? When they are on the field they are really quite show-y. (Today's game is going to be intense, honestly, I'm worried about what will happen. See that guy second from the left, Torres, he will be playing against the other 4 for the first time.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TU67M8Be8CI/AAAAAAAABsY/8cNoG72WvLw/s1600/thelfc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TU67M8Be8CI/AAAAAAAABsY/8cNoG72WvLw/s320/thelfc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570595620049055778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no? Well I watch a whopping total of 3 TV shows. 2 are no longer running, but I do record my weekly House episode for much entertainment and anticipation! The other two, Friends and Gilmore Girls, I just watch reruns over, and over, and over, and over. If I had to pick just one, it would be Friends, because the byproduct of this show is mass amounts of laughter!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TU4jfVnHwLI/AAAAAAAABsQ/8C5K-hp8y9Y/s1600/fris.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TU4jfVnHwLI/AAAAAAAABsQ/8C5K-hp8y9Y/s320/fris.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570428810388029618" 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/6963600660288347516-1853903241787071187?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/1853903241787071187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=1853903241787071187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1853903241787071187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1853903241787071187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/03.html' title='03'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TU67M8Be8CI/AAAAAAAABsY/8cNoG72WvLw/s72-c/thelfc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7431074315505865639</id><published>2011-02-03T08:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T22:20:15.278-08:00</updated><title type='text'>02 - two guys</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TUuZ8LpCTnI/AAAAAAAABsI/caT-uBrpOwE/s1600/bspre2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TUuZ8LpCTnI/AAAAAAAABsI/caT-uBrpOwE/s320/bspre2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569714623369858674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I can't even imagine what life would be like if this guy wasn't around. No matter how crazy our life gets he is there for me. He's my cuddle buddy who I won't give up! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TUuZtRq7WkI/AAAAAAAABsA/fFvV9ntS-BU/s1600/jcly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 228px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TUuZtRq7WkI/AAAAAAAABsA/fFvV9ntS-BU/s320/jcly.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569714367290366530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Then a thought popped into my head, but what about this guy? Being close to him make everything else make sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TUuZtRq7WkI/AAAAAAAABsA/fFvV9ntS-BU/s1600/jcly.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Day 02  - A picture of you and the person you have been close with for awhile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7431074315505865639?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7431074315505865639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7431074315505865639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7431074315505865639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7431074315505865639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/02-two-guys.html' title='02 - two guys'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TUuZ8LpCTnI/AAAAAAAABsI/caT-uBrpOwE/s72-c/bspre2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-1555320944973041917</id><published>2011-02-02T20:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T22:06:23.896-08:00</updated><title type='text'>01</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TUovnaGA0aI/AAAAAAAABrw/GST8XV7rUYs/s1600/sc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TUovnaGA0aI/AAAAAAAABrw/GST8XV7rUYs/s320/sc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569316243262984610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I love this picture. I'm not even sure why. It's been my facebook profile picture for ~341 days now.&lt;br /&gt;2. I drink smoothies for breakfast every morning I have time.&lt;br /&gt;3. I'm really cool. People want to meet me. :)  &lt;br /&gt;4. I lack knowledge about basically all pop culture. &lt;br /&gt;5. I have two loads of laundry from the weekend that need to be folded and put away, but I don't want to. Very unlike me.&lt;br /&gt;6. I'm just not a fancy person. But, if I am going to dress up - it's gotta look good.&lt;br /&gt;7. I'm 21ish and I still learn new things about myself everyday. I've gotten to know myself so much better over the last few months, it's awesome.&lt;br /&gt;8. Brian gave me a sweet sonicare toothbrush for Christmas, makes my teeth feel so clean! &lt;br /&gt;9. My recent favorite color is gray.&lt;br /&gt;10. I have two pairs of soccer cleats. one white pair, one red pair. I love them both.&lt;br /&gt;11. I have an office. Two graphics adorn one of the walls - one a Lucial Ball quote and one a Mahatma Ghandi quote. I think they go perfect together. Designed by my friend's &lt;a href="http://www.zazzle.com/logophilia"&gt;sister&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;12. I always go to sleep with socks on, I rarely wake up with them on.&lt;br /&gt;13. I make lists, a lot. I love them.&lt;br /&gt;14. My first response is very rarely serious.(I try to keep it to myself.)&lt;br /&gt;15. I believe in Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps. I got hit on by some kid today. I'm pretty sure he was 14 or 15. yup. maybe that would teach me to wear my ring more often, mmmm, probably not though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-1555320944973041917?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/1555320944973041917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=1555320944973041917' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1555320944973041917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1555320944973041917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/01.html' title='01'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TUovnaGA0aI/AAAAAAAABrw/GST8XV7rUYs/s72-c/sc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-8181285415448445388</id><published>2011-02-02T20:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T20:29:45.469-08:00</updated><title type='text'>days go by.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Stole this from my favorite Tree Branch. Since this month is going to be lonely (busy season #1) it'll give me something relaxing to do everyday after I get home from my busy 10-hour work days. Plus this blog could use some graphics. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 01 - A picture of yourself with fifteen facts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 02 - A picture of you and the person you have been close with for awhile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 03 - A picture of the cast from your favorite show.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 04 - A picture of your night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 05 - A picture of your favorite memory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 06 - A picture of a person you'd love to trade places with for a day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 07 - A picture of your most treasured item.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 08 - A picture that makes you laugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 09 - A picture of the person who has gotten you through the most.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 10 - A picture of the person you do the most ridiculous things with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 11 - A picture of something you hate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 12 - A picture of something you love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 13 - A picture of your favorite band or artist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 14 - A picture of someone you could never imagine your life without.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 15 - A picture of something you want to do before you die.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 16 - A picture of someone who inspires you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 17 - A picture of something that has made a huge impact on your life recently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 18 - A picture of your biggest insecurity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 19 - A picture of you when you were little.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 20 - A picture of somewhere you'd love to travel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 21 - A picture of something you wish you could forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 22 - A picture of something you wish you were better at.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 23 - A picture of your favorite book.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 24 - A picture of something you wish you could change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 25 - A picture of your day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 26 - A picture of something that means a lot to you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 27 - A picture of yourself and a family member.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 28 - A picture of something you're afraid of.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 29 - A picture that can always make you smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Day 30 - A picture of someone you miss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-8181285415448445388?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/8181285415448445388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=8181285415448445388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/8181285415448445388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/8181285415448445388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/02/stole-this-from-my-favorite-tree-branch.html' title='days go by.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-8418983490226160132</id><published>2011-01-31T22:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T23:18:46.425-08:00</updated><title type='text'>lesson learned.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A few lessons I've recently realized apply in more place than I ever expected. I've learned some of these the "easy way" and some the "hard way," but whatever way they seem to be more and more solidified each day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;1. Never say never. Don't make any hard and fast rules for your life and your future. Until you get to that fork you can't decide if you'll go left, right, or make your own path. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;2. Don't judge people or books by their cover. But most important don't judge people at all. There are very few&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt; righteous judgments&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; and if you question it at all it's better left unjudged. You never know what someone else is going through and if you did you'd probably wish you were as tough as they are. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;3. Trust the people you love. This is something I don't do enough of. However, I'm almost never disappointed when I do, but regret not doing so.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;4. Don't be afraid of what you believe in. Stand up for the things you know are right. Don't let the world determine your values, determine to stand out from the world (in a good way). Your countenance isn't something you can hide with makeup or pearls.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;5. Life can change in an instant and you'll find yourself in new places, situations, and stages of life. Love each one. Embrace the moments that make you happy. Reach out to others and share your talents with those around you. Give your very best in everything you do. Do something for someone else. You'll probably never be where you are now again, so don't rush it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;6. Believe in something bigger than yourself. Dream, Desire, Wish, and Hope for all the things you want to want to accomplish in life. The only person holding you back from acheiving those is you, so believe you can do it. Life has a crazy way of working itself out, usually better than you dreamed! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;7. Plans change, people die, and things get lost. It's ok. re-plan, adjust, love again, look forward to the next life, and don't worry about it. Don't fret over things you can't change.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I know these might sound a little cheesy or even cliche, but I am constantly amazed at my life and the lives of those around me. I had no idea that at 23 I'd be married to a guy who is extremely smart, motivated, talented, and just makes me want to be better everyday; that I'd be working at such a challenging and uplifting job; that I'd have so many friends to look up to; and that I'd be so incredibly happy doing things I never thought I'd do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm excited for new things coming with each sunrise. I'm excited to keep learning. I'm excited to continue growing. I'm excited for each phase headed my way. I'm excited about life. I'm fixin' to enjoy this journey with every step along the way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-8418983490226160132?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/8418983490226160132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=8418983490226160132' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/8418983490226160132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/8418983490226160132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/01/lesson-learned.html' title='lesson learned.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-2141871526281017906</id><published>2011-01-26T19:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-29T21:51:23.142-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fresh, please</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I've realized lately that I am a food snob. I love fresh food. I'm not liking that winter barely has any good produce at a reasonable price. I love fresh veggies and fruits. That's what I want to eat, that's what I want to cook with. Today I caved, I bought &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;frozen&lt;/span&gt; veggies and veggies in a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;can&lt;/span&gt;. (I'm a little, ok a lot worried) I'll let you know how this goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;*  *  *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Busy season is so fun! &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;not&lt;/span&gt;. What does the wife of a tax accountant do during busy season? I'm trying to figure that out. Last busy season I took off for a while to hang out with my favorite two year old, moved, and hung out with friends. Well this year, my favorite two year old is thousands of miles away. I am not moving from the cottage any time soon. And, my friends are all so busy with their own families. So far this busy season I've been doing some working out, mostly just pretending to be as cool as those people doing the 'insanity' exercises. Plus watching &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Gilmore Girls&lt;/span&gt; and eating oreos dipped in milk (ok that's probably just for tonight).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;*  *  *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next topic&lt;br /&gt;Today I was at a work event. all day. on a Saturday. yup. awesome huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A  short story, even shorter:&lt;br /&gt;I went to lunch with two of my "work  friends" one I know much better then the other. We were joking around  about socks and taking them off and putting them back on. I have a very  strict no socks back on after they've come off policy (I inherited this  from a friend). It's like putting on dirty underwear. GA-ROSS! Anyhow  back to the joking, I said, "Ya I pretty much throw my socks away every  night when I take them off." HAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward 2 hours later.  After my "work friend" I don't know so well, gave me a foot massage I  had put my flats back on without socks, obviously right. Well, in what I  am sure was an attempt to make my life easier she threw my socks away  for me! for real. By the time I realized she'd thrown them away it was  too late to save them. So I told my other "work friend" the one I know,  what happened and we both had a good laugh about it. The other girl is  just so nice I didn't have the heart to say anything about it. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral  of this story, don't joke around with people who might not know you  very well. For all they know you might seriously only wear your socks  once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-2141871526281017906?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/2141871526281017906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=2141871526281017906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2141871526281017906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2141871526281017906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/01/fresh-please.html' title='fresh, please'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-1578569310624599825</id><published>2011-01-23T14:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T22:17:19.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'>nothing significant</title><content type='html'>a few random thoughts on my head. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* *today we had a very interesting debate at the Prete's. Every Sunday there is always some debate about something. Seriously, I don't know why they like to "discuss" things so often, but that's besides this point. Today was on the shortness of Kami's dress. I have to admit, I sided with Warren for probably the first time ever (partially why I'm documenting this, it may be a last as well). In a nutshell, Kami's dress was barely more than a shirt. Warren wanted to pay her $10 for it so he could burn it. Then her argument was that even if it was too short for church, which she conceded, that it was ok for school. Why? Because it's what all the girls are wearing these days, and the boys like it.  I totally didn't understand that as a defense, but I also kinda didn't believe her. Eventually, the conversation died, but I was still thinking about it ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then later I asked Marcus, "do girls at your school dress immodestly a lot, like super short dresses? Or just shirts with spandex shorts/capris/pants"&lt;br /&gt;He replied, "yup it's disgusting and sad. There are the girls who wear clothes and the girls who forget half of theirs." He continued without me saying anything else, "my friends and I like to remind some girls that when the pant eating sharks get your clothes to not wear them anymore." (I love that. he is a crack up.) Then talking about the girl he's been dating he says, "Eliza dresses good. If she didn't I'd have to take her shopping and get her some clothes with material."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my little Marcus. I love the friends he hangs out with. I love that he isn't afraid to stand up for what he knows is right without making a scene. I love that he is so funny. I love that he is not like every other high school boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it turns out Kami was right, the trends are going shorter and shorter, lower and lower. my next question is why? (but that's for another post on another day.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** I'm blogging from my computer again. Thanks to Brian's awesome little brother who restored my computer. I'm stoked!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** I'm a fan of David Archuletta's new cd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** Apparently, brian and I "stole" the name Abbie from my little brother who was planning on naming one of his kids that, Aaron also thought the same thing. wow, little did Brian he was robbing my brothers of their first choice in names for girls. I told them they are more than welcome to name their children after our dog :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** As much as I dislike and think obama's health care plan is a &lt;strikeout&gt;load of 6 month old CRAP wreaking havoc on anyone close enough to smell it&lt;/strikeout&gt;, I'm glad to be back on my parents' insurance. 1. because I don't have it through my work and 2. I just got my latest hospital bill and I only owe 24 American dollars!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-1578569310624599825?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/1578569310624599825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=1578569310624599825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1578569310624599825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1578569310624599825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/01/nothing-significant.html' title='nothing significant'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-1268030223952577712</id><published>2011-01-21T01:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T09:08:02.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>taken down</title><content type='html'>by a 5 year old.&lt;br /&gt;Sounds ridiculous right? Seriously, it was. I completely underestimated the strength of the little tyke. Then she was on top of me. With me on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What came next shocked me so hard I couldn't stop laughing to get her off. Her face came straight at mine to bite my nose! At that point I really couldn't stop laughing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In her defense, I had been pretending to eat her, maybe that was a bad thing to teach the tyke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TTm6pN06agI/AAAAAAAABrk/EaysQOznj8M/s1600/lacydraw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TTm6pN06agI/AAAAAAAABrk/EaysQOznj8M/s320/lacydraw.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564684031841954306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lacy Lou hung out with me in my office for a while during the day and this was her picture of me. I think I need to get some crayons for my drawer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-1268030223952577712?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/1268030223952577712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=1268030223952577712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1268030223952577712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/1268030223952577712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/01/taken-down.html' title='taken down'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TTm6pN06agI/AAAAAAAABrk/EaysQOznj8M/s72-c/lacydraw.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-6453024634899108681</id><published>2011-01-19T21:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T21:46:16.025-08:00</updated><title type='text'>high altitude ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;All day I was craving some good custard, birds custard to be exact. I haven't made any in quite a while, and well it's delightful. what's not to crave? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I decided I would break our normal routine and have dessert with dinner. Mostly just so I could fit custard into my meal. I even made a berry pie to go with the custard. Custard is good plain, but it's even better when served with pie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well for some reason it just wouldn't set up. What a gyp! After all my hour and a half of work I didn't even get to eat my custard. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I did everything just like I usually do, so I'm blaming it on the high altitude. I'm gonna have to figure out what to change asap! Cause I'm still craving it and I have half a pie left. Looks like we'll be having dessert again tomorrow.  Wish me luck. Or better yet, DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT TO ALTER TO MAKE CUSTARD SET UP AT HIGH ALTITUDES?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-6453024634899108681?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/6453024634899108681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=6453024634899108681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6453024634899108681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6453024634899108681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/01/high-altitude.html' title='high altitude ...'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-386811327677715855</id><published>2011-01-18T12:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T12:38:27.017-08:00</updated><title type='text'>tired, but thankful, I think.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: center;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;sitting in bed. drinking tea. nibbling on a sandwich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Why am I doing this at 1 p.m. on a Tuesday, when I should of course be at work (my second home)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Did I take a day off? ya right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I came home because I felt like I was about to curl over and die at my desk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;ok, die might be a little extreme, but not by too much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Yesterday, the doc gave me a new medicine to try.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This morning I tried it. About an hour later I felt worse than I did before taking it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Did it take away any pain? Nope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Did it make me sick on top of being pain? Check and check.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Is it getting them any closer to getting rid of my disease? probably not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I've come to realize over the past three or four years of dealing with this that doctors really don't know as much as they act like they do. They pretend that all their extra years of schooling have made them so knowledgeable, but I don't believe it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;frustrated. disappointed. alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Yep, all three.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm just tired of being in pain all too often.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm tired of my body freaking out any time I eat something that doesn't perfectly align with what it had in mind. (and when it changes daily, I never know what I can or can't eat).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm tired of doctors "passing me on"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm tired of my pants falling off because they are all too big. (maybe under normal circumstances I would like this, but not when it's losing weight that just makes me feel weak.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm tired of going to the hospital for more tests that never prove or disprove anything!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm tired.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm thankful that I have days that are good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm thankful that even though it never completely goes away that it's not this horrible all the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm thankful to have all of my parts inside me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm thankful I can finish a bunch of my work at home, so I don't get too behind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm thankful I have blankets to snuggle in on days when I can barely move.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm thankful I like rice, the one food that seems to be my go to when all else fails.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm thankful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-386811327677715855?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/386811327677715855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=386811327677715855' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/386811327677715855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/386811327677715855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/01/tired-but-thankful-i-think.html' title='tired, but thankful, I think.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-4210453474469326190</id><published>2011-01-01T09:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T23:06:44.161-08:00</updated><title type='text'>one. one. eleven.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The day we say goodbye to last year, and welcome another new year into our lives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Truth be told I am quite glad to say goodbye to twenty ten. Last year was a crazy roller coaster for me. I had some very happy moments, but I also had too many low points. Since I'm trying to forget the not-so-fabulous moments here are a couple handfuls of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;highlights from this last year...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;1. Completed an internship at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;PaperCrafts&lt;/span&gt;, which not only gave me editing practice, but gave me a new crafty hobby and part time job here and there. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hehe&lt;/span&gt;. Our upstairs family room area has become a creative crafting zone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;2. Made it through my first busy season as the wife of tax accountant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;3. Flew to CA on a Thursday, drove home that Sunday, and then flew to TN on Monday morning. I was back to work the following &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;monday&lt;/span&gt; at 8 a.m. busy? yes. Fun? most of it. Worth it? of course.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;4. Made a friend. Hilary. Confession #1, when I met her in 2007 I didn't have the best first impression. Tainted by her last name I saw a girl who was overly high maintenance, too pretty for her own good, and not very friendly. Confession #2, I was wrong. I know you're thinking this rarely happens. ha, ya right. Really though, it turns out that she is actually nice, easy to relate to, and fun to go to lunch with. Here's to letting go of a bad first impression. :)&lt;br /&gt;5. 5-year reunion. I still can't believe I'm this old. But finding out how gifted my friends are. I love watching us grow up, start families, and still be there for laughs with each other.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;6. Lots of baby bunnies, and a new puppy. Not replacing my last puppy, but making us a fun family of four.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;7. Started a new job, continuing my career in marketing. (jumped into an industry I knew nothing about. learning quickly how little I know, but how fast I can figure things out. mastering the fake it, til you make it. loving it.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;8. Found out I love going to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;sealings&lt;/span&gt;. SO much to learn. Always good advice I take for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;9. Realized more everyday how incredibly blessed I am to have a truly special family. I can't imagine my life without any of them. I love how close we all are. I guess that's the essence of the Christ's gospel at work. Temples are all about families, that's gotta be fore a reason, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;10. Experienced Michael &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Buble&lt;/span&gt; live. Brilliant. Lovely. Phenomenal. Everything I hoped for and more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;11. World Cup was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Twenty. Eleven.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; is going to be more steady, lovely, and exhilarating. I hope. I'd say it has the definite makings of a good year, now we'll see if I can mix them all up right to get something delightful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;*I am going to pull a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;shrek&lt;/span&gt; 3 and fall in love with my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;husby&lt;/span&gt;, again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;*I am going to do a few of the projects I have planned for my house that I haven't "gotten around to" yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;*I am going to make a new friend. (I might do this every year.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;*Grad School Test Prep course starting in January. Then take the test twice this summer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;*I am going to take a few days off and go on at least three vacations. (You'd think that wouldn't be hard. Fact, since August I've only taken 2 full days off.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;*I am going to spend more time training Abbie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;*I am going to get better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;p.s. Disclaimer: This isn't as a list of goals/resolutions. Just my long term (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;yearish&lt;/span&gt;) to-do list.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-4210453474469326190?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/4210453474469326190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=4210453474469326190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/4210453474469326190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/4210453474469326190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2011/01/one-one-eleven.html' title='one. one. eleven.'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-4441709189868688189</id><published>2010-12-27T07:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T17:55:24.565-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Weekend</title><content type='html'>Christmas this year was/is SO SO SO much fun! Christmas isn't just a day at my parents' house. It's a week/month long event. Why? Why not? We love getting together, playing around, and giving gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year my family came to our cottage for dinner. After which my parents stayed around long enough to open up a couple gifts and still get home in time to get to bed early. My siblings all stayed and played games/watched movies into the late hours. This is what our family room looked like Christmas morning - mattress party! (minus Brian and me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TRi2nFJ0zPI/AAAAAAAABps/75_1SSZMoqU/s1600/DSC06648.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TRi2nFJ0zPI/AAAAAAAABps/75_1SSZMoqU/s320/DSC06648.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555390922876046578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Christmas morning we headed to the in law's (I use this to refer to Bri's family so much he actually called his parents the in law's last week. loved it.) We had a big breakfast, then exchanged some gifts, I personally think I received the best gift possible from Tyler! He just went on a business trip to England and brought me back a box of TEA! I'm thrilled just thinking about it. Pictures to come (after I steal them from the in law's computer).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TRvlq1-FagI/AAAAAAAABqc/1LJbB1KMD30/s1600/IMG_3840.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TRvlq1-FagI/AAAAAAAABqc/1LJbB1KMD30/s320/IMG_3840.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556287089496386050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;me opening my tea. best part of the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Later in the afternoon we headed to my parents for some family time. My mom's brother's family came over and we had a lot of laughs! We played scategories and it was interesting, very interesting. We also played a game of keep away with the last pumpkin roll Chris made--it was that delicious. Mostly we just had fun hanging out and playing my dad's new pick and trade present game. He's out of control, but we love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TRi2nZUThjI/AAAAAAAABp0/_qzosTs6n-8/s1600/DSC06653.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TRi2nZUThjI/AAAAAAAABp0/_qzosTs6n-8/s320/DSC06653.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555390928288712242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Abbie loved tearing off the wrapping paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TRi2n-k15dI/AAAAAAAABp8/gzrYTPUNBl8/s1600/DSC06675.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TRi2n-k15dI/AAAAAAAABp8/gzrYTPUNBl8/s320/DSC06675.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555390938290185682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;us and Abbie on her new bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TRi2oEeUNvI/AAAAAAAABqE/CGKiJAQcctA/s1600/DSC06674.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TRi2oEeUNvI/AAAAAAAABqE/CGKiJAQcctA/s320/DSC06674.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555390939873425138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Marcus and me being gangster. ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, we spent the evening at the grandparents' (I use this to refer to the prete grandparents, I have lots of nicknames for our families to keep them apart). Grandma made a lovely dinner complemented with Jan's jello and Terri's pudding. Grandpa told stories, the kids played games, and the parents sat around gabbing. Everyone enjoyed themselves. We ended up back at my parents for a little bit to pick up our wash and plan a few activities for this week. (side-not-christmasy note - I found a bunch of tapes I used to listen to over and over and over and over as a kid. So as we were driving around yesterday I played them in my car. I think Brian hated them (mostly since they are the kind that get stuck in your head), but I loved them! I could remember almost all the words, and sang along quite proudly, regardless of the strange looks I received from a deprived husband I have.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TRvlqkR_EqI/AAAAAAAABqU/6Db-u9-FTgY/s1600/IMG_3932A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TRvlqkR_EqI/AAAAAAAABqU/6Db-u9-FTgY/s320/IMG_3932A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556287084748018338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have a secret love for argyle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really ready to be back at work this morning, but I'll be ok thinking about the fun night I have planned for me and my little one today! Hooray.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-4441709189868688189?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/4441709189868688189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=4441709189868688189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/4441709189868688189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/4441709189868688189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-weekend.html' title='Christmas Weekend'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TRi2nFJ0zPI/AAAAAAAABps/75_1SSZMoqU/s72-c/DSC06648.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7623773679092027734</id><published>2010-12-20T07:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T12:36:02.008-08:00</updated><title type='text'>4: days, wheels, and people</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" &gt;Christmas is this week! Wahoo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I seriously can't wait. I've already given Brian one of his sweet Christmas presents. Don't judge, there's no rule that says I have to wait. I'm not planning on pretending they came from santa because well he's not real. sorry.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Brian and I made a quick trip to Cali over the weekend with the parents. It was fun, and before I forget I need to write down some awesome conversations that I am still laughing at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad: Brian, how were you eggs? ... Next time I think I'll ask them to leave out the sand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brad: oh you live in Lehi now? My daughter lives out there. Just off Main Street in a richmond community.&lt;br /&gt;Me: ya I know where that is. (quietly)&lt;br /&gt;Mom: That's where they live.&lt;br /&gt;Debbie: Did you just get a new bishopric&lt;br /&gt;Brian: Ya.&lt;br /&gt;Brad: You must be in their ward. Do you know Heather and Ryan Tanner?&lt;br /&gt;Brian: I think I home teach them. I know the name Ryan Tanner, just not sure his wife's name, but now that I think about it she looks just like Debbie.&lt;br /&gt;Brad: What do you mean you think?&lt;br /&gt;Brian: Well I just got the assignment a couple weeks ago, and we haven't been over yet, but my companion pointed them out to me.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Is that the family that wont let home teachers come over?&lt;br /&gt;Brian: umm ... ya.&lt;br /&gt;Brad: What?&lt;br /&gt;Brian: Well my companion said he can never get them to commit to a time, so he's never been able to go.&lt;br /&gt;Brad: Hold on. (get's phone out and starts dialing) Hi Heather it's dad. Hey I'm doing a quick survey for the church can you help me out?&lt;br /&gt;Do you have home teachers? When's the last time you saw them? Do you let them come over when they call? Well how about I set up your next appt right now?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm serious. I'm sitting with your home teacher. Yes, he's here in CA with me.&lt;br /&gt;SO SO SO FUNNY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a lovely time even though it was short. We got to visit my cousin Steph and her kids in Fremont, Tyler in Mountain View, Chantel in San Fran, Uncle John's Fam, Uncle Dan, and lots of friends! We were quite productive and I couldn't have been happier about it. Totally worth the rain and snow we survived in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and a few pics for evidence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TQ-4fhGh0II/AAAAAAAABpI/e4b8do20FAk/s1600/blmsf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TQ-4fhGh0II/AAAAAAAABpI/e4b8do20FAk/s320/blmsf.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552859717172318338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Bloomingdale's. us. love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TQ-4fyDGcxI/AAAAAAAABpQ/_7NkON5TDIg/s1600/oisf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TQ-4fyDGcxI/AAAAAAAABpQ/_7NkON5TDIg/s320/oisf.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552859721721344786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Me and Chan next to a Santa you would only see in San Fran. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TQ-4gfZNYsI/AAAAAAAABpg/J8SCfQgBuJc/s1600/hotchez.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TQ-4gfZNYsI/AAAAAAAABpg/J8SCfQgBuJc/s320/hotchez.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552859733893669570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Dying after a bite of pepper jack cheese&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TQ-4gMdYkBI/AAAAAAAABpY/3xGJ_h8qJ_E/s1600/slpz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TQ-4gMdYkBI/AAAAAAAABpY/3xGJ_h8qJ_E/s320/slpz.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552859728810905618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;Dad reached back to get something out of the cooler and apparently deciding what to eating is a tiring because he snoozed off before he could make up his mind. Best part= he slept like that for an hour! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7623773679092027734?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7623773679092027734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7623773679092027734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7623773679092027734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7623773679092027734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2010/12/4-days-wheels-and-people.html' title='4: days, wheels, and people'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TQ-4fhGh0II/AAAAAAAABpI/e4b8do20FAk/s72-c/blmsf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-8209596291234681532</id><published>2010-12-15T07:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T08:15:03.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>love from a cloud</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;at 6:25 this morning my phone rang. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Brian "Hey the roads are bad, so you might want to leave a little earlier than normal"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;me: "are you gone?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Brian "ya, get out of bed."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;My 6:30 alarm hadn't even gone off, I was not about to get out of bed. Then I thought, wait if the roads are bad that must mean .... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"  &gt;SNOW!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So I got up, looked out the window, smiled with delight, and went back to my nice cozy bed for a few more minutes before getting ready. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TQjnKtV-2RI/AAAAAAAABpA/Nu0YfpyNp-Y/s1600/swthw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TQjnKtV-2RI/AAAAAAAABpA/Nu0YfpyNp-Y/s320/swthw.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550940711890639122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Snow is so pretty. I love it.&lt;/span&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/6963600660288347516-8209596291234681532?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/8209596291234681532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=8209596291234681532' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/8209596291234681532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/8209596291234681532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2010/12/love-from-cloud.html' title='love from a cloud'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TQjnKtV-2RI/AAAAAAAABpA/Nu0YfpyNp-Y/s72-c/swthw.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7407637685771504250</id><published>2010-12-01T21:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T22:12:09.953-08:00</updated><title type='text'>65 is no longer a requirement</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You know when you're at church and once someone makes a comment they are bound to make at least 5 more. Well I feel like that is me today. November got me thinking about posting everyday and now anytime anything happens I want to write it down. That urge I think is also partly because I recently read through lots of old blog posts and drafts: I enjoyed every moment. Turns out journals aren't too boring. So when in 3 years I go through my journal again I want to have fun little memories from my life right now. My life is FAR from perfect right now, but still I'm very happy. I am on this path of trying to figure out what I want to do with my life: I am excited by all my options. I honestly never realized how many choices I have. I know I can do anything I want, and for the first time ever I really believe that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Anyhow back to the senior citizen in my life. Brian went to sleep at 9 p.m., seriously. I can't even start to think about bed at 9, let alone actually be asleep. I thought you had to be 65, 70, or maybe even 80 for that to be acceptable. Can you imagine what his bed time will be in 20 years? Unfortunately this isn't a one time event. It's been happening for a while. Needless to say my evenings (night doesn't start for us in our 20s until 12ish) are lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good night. see you in the morning, when they announce the bid winners!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7407637685771504250?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7407637685771504250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7407637685771504250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7407637685771504250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7407637685771504250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2010/12/65-is-no-longer-requirement.html' title='65 is no longer a requirement'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-7029884579892616394</id><published>2010-12-01T10:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T10:14:01.658-08:00</updated><title type='text'>are we 10?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;I currently have snow all over my office floor and chair. Why? One of the owners, Mark, just threw a snowball at me! Then Emily, another owner threw one at Dave, the Pres.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I was just minding my business, working away at my desk. BAM! Snowball to the shoulder. And this was not a little snowball I might add. haha. This is seriously what my work is like. Indoor snowball fight-typical. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently Mark and Emily don't have as much work to do as the rest of us. haha. I sense some payback coming. :) Just had to post this little reason to love the place I work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-7029884579892616394?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/7029884579892616394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=7029884579892616394' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7029884579892616394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/7029884579892616394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2010/12/are-we-10.html' title='are we 10?'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-6365154841885981766</id><published>2010-11-30T19:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T19:43:00.139-08:00</updated><title type='text'>seasons</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I love living in Utah! How could anyone not? I am surrounded by postcard perfect beauty, I get to enjoy all 4 seasons, and every type of activity (other than surfing maybe) is possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the mountains&lt;br /&gt;I love the lakes&lt;br /&gt;I love the valleys&lt;br /&gt;I love the hot summers&lt;br /&gt;I love the cool fall evenings and the watching the leaves change and then fall.&lt;br /&gt;I love love love the snow that covers the dead stuff with a blanket.&lt;br /&gt;I love the bright spring flowers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful I live in such a great place with so many lovely things to enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-6365154841885981766?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/6365154841885981766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=6365154841885981766' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6365154841885981766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6365154841885981766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2010/11/seasons.html' title='seasons'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-4106922874616870012</id><published>2010-11-29T07:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T21:04:32.195-08:00</updated><title type='text'>f.r.i.e.n.d.s</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I've been cleaning out boxes of my stuff my dad made me get out of his house. I can across some random thing that I remember someone gave me back at the beginning of high school, I can't remember who it was (although I have a good idea). Anyhow it was a biography paper about me that they'd written, let's just say this person knew me well!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: left;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In it she wrote, "Sara lives building one friendship at a time. The friends she has now are the friends she's always had."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I already posted about the friends I made back in elementary school, but I've made some friends since then and they are pretty awesome too. I am thankful for my relationship with each one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; started in JR HIGH or HIGH SCHOOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TOaXoVoVRhI/AAAAAAAABiY/rril65FAtBU/s1600/soccerfri.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 130px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TOaXoVoVRhI/AAAAAAAABiY/rril65FAtBU/s320/soccerfri.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541283110782846482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;a bunch of us soccer friends with Coach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJxjSiOifI/AAAAAAAABno/6bquXEidgqc/s1600/mscr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJxjSiOifI/AAAAAAAABno/6bquXEidgqc/s320/mscr.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544618942331259378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;more soccer friends. I've spent hours and hours on and off the field with these girls developing lasting memories, bonds, and trust. You learn a lot about a person playing with them. I was lucky enough to play with a lot of my best friends. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TOaXpYJe_WI/AAAAAAAABiw/RR5xB1Hkv20/s1600/wats.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TOaXpYJe_WI/AAAAAAAABiw/RR5xB1Hkv20/s320/wats.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541283128638635362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I  don't remember the day, but I remember when I had talked to Annita  after seeing/meeting her several times I knew I HAD to be friends with  her because she was so awesome. Both her and her husband are so fun to do things with. I wish TN wasn't so far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPcnB1Kk_qI/AAAAAAAABoo/uo5TmJaQmiE/s1600/cadasa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPcnB1Kk_qI/AAAAAAAABoo/uo5TmJaQmiE/s320/cadasa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545944378534854306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Caleb, is my youngest friend.&lt;br /&gt;Dani, is more like me than any of my other friends, in almost every way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPcnCI8JjkI/AAAAAAAABow/bOFVvQvxkcc/s1600/misbry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPcnCI8JjkI/AAAAAAAABow/bOFVvQvxkcc/s320/misbry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545944383843044930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Melissa is gorgeous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJ7czmNlQI/AAAAAAAABoY/oV6fmUc6RL8/s1600/hsrn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJ7czmNlQI/AAAAAAAABoY/oV6fmUc6RL8/s320/hsrn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544629826063537410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Taken at my 5 year reunion this summer. (I still can't believe it's been that long)&lt;br /&gt;I love getting together with these girls, still. They have such amazing personalities and talents!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJ7dm06X2I/AAAAAAAABog/WHlz7L9N0Sc/s1600/bwpt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJ7dm06X2I/AAAAAAAABog/WHlz7L9N0Sc/s320/bwpt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544629839815401314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;back in the day. haha. I took the pic. but we used to have awesome parties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I wish I had more pics from HS on my computer because I have lots of other friends not pictured. I know a lot of people couldn't wait to get out of high school, but I loved it--that was completely because of my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;friends who made my COLLEGE experience so awesome!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TOaYj1mxVDI/AAAAAAAABjQ/1VYtp4yu1co/s1600/stephie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TOaYj1mxVDI/AAAAAAAABjQ/1VYtp4yu1co/s320/stephie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541284132978512946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Stephie! I swear we could talk and laugh for hours and think it was minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TOaXdFdFaxI/AAAAAAAABiA/XsF8fxTnIks/s1600/ms.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/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TOaXdFdFaxI/AAAAAAAABiA/XsF8fxTnIks/s320/ms.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541282917462141714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;oh my melissa. I don't know if anyone else loves snow as much as us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TOaXcwa8R0I/AAAAAAAABh4/VX8e_q1z0F4/s1600/gresle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TOaXcwa8R0I/AAAAAAAABh4/VX8e_q1z0F4/s320/gresle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541282911816009538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;These two amazing friends of mine will forever be super special people to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Mostly because of their rugged coolness, displayed beautifully here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJxj3GxCKI/AAAAAAAABnw/ZPGZpOfz544/s1600/rsprs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJxj3GxCKI/AAAAAAAABnw/ZPGZpOfz544/s320/rsprs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544618952148191394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;RS Presidency, we had so much fun serving together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I had so many friends in this ward I can't post all of them, but it was such a great ward!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJ360iCNfI/AAAAAAAABoA/FqM8lVQ62e8/s1600/mcth.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJ360iCNfI/AAAAAAAABoA/FqM8lVQ62e8/s320/mcth.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544625943664014834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Michelle. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJxgjZYvzI/AAAAAAAABnQ/NiWaa3JQgME/s1600/bbcw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJxgjZYvzI/AAAAAAAABnQ/NiWaa3JQgME/s320/bbcw.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544618895317974834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;the bboy crew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJ3-vwUeSI/AAAAAAAABoQ/ZxSXaDUJNN0/s1600/clyn.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJ3-vwUeSI/AAAAAAAABoQ/ZxSXaDUJNN0/s320/clyn.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544626011101231394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;and Char of course.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJ36hWYV-I/AAAAAAAABn4/W9AHjmPemXM/s1600/sm.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJ36hWYV-I/AAAAAAAABn4/W9AHjmPemXM/s320/sm.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544625938514860002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;SARA. first friend I made sitting in class at BYU. love this girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJxhPhA_FI/AAAAAAAABng/wQuYk_4I_wU/s1600/alstemp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJxhPhA_FI/AAAAAAAABng/wQuYk_4I_wU/s320/alstemp.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544618907161132114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Adrie: I laugh so hard I cry almost every time. She calls me Larry and I like it, that's love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Lauren: Is real, down-to-earth. Easy to talk to about anything. Amazing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TOaXdY649cI/AAAAAAAABiI/yJmFcFxSy6k/s1600/scoots.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TOaXdY649cI/AAAAAAAABiI/yJmFcFxSy6k/s320/scoots.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541282922687428034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A  friend who loved to do  crazy random things with me like scooter all over provo,&lt;br /&gt;and introduced  me to honey on a hamburger -life changing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJxg8H7QII/AAAAAAAABnY/-RODKFCsJEc/s1600/bftb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJxg8H7QII/AAAAAAAABnY/-RODKFCsJEc/s320/bftb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544618901955625090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jeffrey and Caleb. good friends. C was a great home teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TOaYjciwqaI/AAAAAAAABi4/GuN-GlHbUeQ/s1600/wno.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TOaYjciwqaI/AAAAAAAABi4/GuN-GlHbUeQ/s320/wno.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541284126250805666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;so much love I have for these girls! Best rommies for sure!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJ38cdpr8I/AAAAAAAABoI/MombfPnZSuo/s1600/kcrw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPJ38cdpr8I/AAAAAAAABoI/MombfPnZSuo/s320/kcrw.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544625971562917826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;These guys taught me how to play GAMES for hours. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;*This is far from an exhaustive list, but it's a sampling of some of the amazing friends I've had through my life. I wouldn't be the same without them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps. I am also thankful for the tv series Friends. It makes me laugh so so hard, even when I'm alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-4106922874616870012?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/4106922874616870012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=4106922874616870012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/4106922874616870012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/4106922874616870012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2010/11/friends.html' title='f.r.i.e.n.d.s'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TOaXoVoVRhI/AAAAAAAABiY/rril65FAtBU/s72-c/soccerfri.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-6847428541688571812</id><published>2010-11-28T00:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T00:28:00.694-08:00</updated><title type='text'>it beats</title><content type='html'>thankful for love. pretty self explanitory right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just finished watching the movie Valentines Day. Love stories of every kind. Love is universal. There are hundreds of "types" of love, but they all come from the heart. Ya, I like love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankful #2 today&lt;br /&gt;My Metcalf grandparents. Tonight at dinner I was telling brian about grammies slant board. Man, she is one cool lady! Then I told him that my favorite candies were inherited from my gramps. It seems like they were here only a little bit ago, but at the same time there have been so many changes since they left. Can't wait to see them again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-6847428541688571812?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/6847428541688571812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=6847428541688571812' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6847428541688571812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6847428541688571812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2010/11/it-beats.html' title='it beats'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-9142220324371753187</id><published>2010-11-27T22:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T22:28:23.391-08:00</updated><title type='text'>erasers</title><content type='html'>I am thankful for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;erasers&lt;br /&gt;white out&lt;br /&gt;Clorox wipes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;backspace&lt;br /&gt;repentance&lt;br /&gt;fresh starts&lt;br /&gt;2nd chances&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Because I'm not perfect, and I'm pretty sure I haven't hit my mistake quota yet. Until then I am stuck fixing things here and there. Hopefully, learning from my mess-ups the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-9142220324371753187?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/9142220324371753187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=9142220324371753187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/9142220324371753187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/9142220324371753187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2010/11/erasers.html' title='erasers'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-6423391921687912634</id><published>2010-11-26T16:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T17:54:45.919-08:00</updated><title type='text'>good deals</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I love a good find, you know something you like, something you needed, something totally random that you came across for such a good price you couldn't pass it up. I just love spending a little and getting something great. (this goes especially great with my newlywed budget)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I do not however like shopping at 4 am. yuck. Seriously, who came up with "black Friday?" and why did they decide it needed to start in the middle of the night. gosh peeps, what happened to sleeping until 7 am on days off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;This year we hit walmart at 12 am, khols at 4 am, went to sleep for a few hours, then back up to clean and get ready, left around 11 for cabellas, then hit JC Penny and a few other shops in the mall, finally hit crafter's corner on the way home. I don't plan on shopping again for a while.  (at least not until tomorrow) lol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;We did however find lots of great deals on things we wanted and needed. That part I am thrilled about!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-6423391921687912634?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/6423391921687912634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=6423391921687912634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6423391921687912634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/6423391921687912634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2010/11/good-deals.html' title='good deals'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6963600660288347516.post-2101615019523607083</id><published>2010-11-25T16:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T17:54:25.454-08:00</updated><title type='text'>--thanks to the giving--</title><content type='html'>I don't know if I've mention this yet this month, but I love Thanksgiving, today! woot woot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span class="UIIntentionalStory_Names" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;name&amp;quot;}"&gt;                      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;‎Presidnet Monson said, "Our realization of what is most important in life goes hand in hand with gratitude for our blessings."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;How ridiculous would I be if I didn't express my thanks for my family? I love my family. All of them (you know not just the ones that lived in my house). They are so fun and we have a blast together. always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPBVgMtaK1I/AAAAAAAABmY/yN6ystrrPL4/s1600/thesibs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPBVgMtaK1I/AAAAAAAABmY/yN6ystrrPL4/s320/thesibs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544025152948939602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I am also thankful for Brian's family. I always hear crazy stories of the "monster-in-law" you know the families who are so past weird and crazy, no body wants to marry in. Well I'm thankful they are mostly normal, completely normal would be a little boring. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPBVgsGlXfI/AAAAAAAABmg/FnlFCWFD5IU/s1600/pre.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPBVgsGlXfI/AAAAAAAABmg/FnlFCWFD5IU/s320/pre.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544025161376030194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Don't that have an awesome fence for pictures?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6963600660288347516-2101615019523607083?l=saramariesmith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/feeds/2101615019523607083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6963600660288347516&amp;postID=2101615019523607083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2101615019523607083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6963600660288347516/posts/default/2101615019523607083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saramariesmith.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanks-to-giving.html' title='--thanks to the giving--'/><author><name>SARIE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18235691377402628906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/SYsS0O8NbcI/AAAAAAAAAU4/HYfJVd6_yfU/S220/me5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3qJ0oe5ODwg/TPBVgMtaK1I/AAAAAAAABmY/yN6ystrrPL4/s72-c/thesibs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
