<?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-4804605029722849318</id><updated>2011-08-02T15:47:08.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Currently without a better title</title><subtitle type='html'>Ahh crap- it's just me trying to make sense of the world around me... and by that I mean me and the people around me.  

'cause the world- that makes a whole lot more sense.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>sara spils</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08104261974142710142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SRE4QLM2VdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pFXjMw1Od4E/S220/IMG_6323_1098.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804605029722849318.post-1169019105161157812</id><published>2010-10-19T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T20:34:14.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Self Discovery</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Warning .. What you are about to read is real.  It's ooey and gooey emotional stuff and you can skip it if you want.  I promised myself that I would do this thing... and that means doing it for real.  No holding back.  Seriously. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I was out at "happy hour" eating late lunch early dinner with some girlfriends from work and we got to talking about me.  More specifically, the walls that I have built up around myself, especially when it comes to men... a common topic.  The reason... I'm trying to understand why I'm undesirable (read: still single.. and unattached)- or why I'm constantly moved to the friend category.  For the past year or so I've been trying to figure out what it is that I'm doing or not doing, consciously or subconsciously in my relationships with the people around me.  Why i feel the need to protect myself, and w&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15.8333px; "&gt;hy I am where I am.  Now I get the irony that I am sitting at a table of women... but still they are very smart, have excellent people skills... etc, and more importantly I trust them.  Please know that the entire time wasn't dedicated to me... that would not only be annoying but incredibly needy, both of which I think I can say are not a part of my list of personality traits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyhow...   The current thought is that I'm too smart and (stick with me through this one, no judgements, just read) that my being self sufficient and a problem solver and generally taking good and almost complete care of myself has made me undesirable to men.  As it turns out, surprisingly (sarcasm pointed at me), men what to feel needed.  If fact must feel needed.  I can understand that.. who doesn't.  This makes sense, this I understand, because I think we all need this.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15.8333px; "&gt;So the thought tonight was that through my actions I show, albeit unconsciously, that I do not need someone (funny that I have had many a guy tell me this to my face, so now that I'm typing I think I see it a lot more).  I have been screaming in my stubbornness... I CAN DO IT!  I DON'T NEED ANYONE!  and that's all it has been for many years now is my stubborn streak, or my pride telling everyone 'F-off" I can do this myself.  What I didn't understand was the translation to the male language (please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong on this assumption) That through my Glowing A+ self-sufficiency (ha), I seem to have left no room for anyone around me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15.8333px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15.8333px; "&gt;Seriously?  'Cause what I have been thinking this whole time was, why don't men like me, why don't they find me attractive?  What's wrong with me?  All the while telling them (through my actions and words)... I don't need you by the way!   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now my friends think it's because I'm too smart... that I know so much and I readily share it. Which, it has been proposed, is a turn off to guys because if I know everything then there is no room for them to teach me, show me, lead me, etc.... no room for them.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not going to lie...  Right now I don' feel every smart... because I DO NOT IN THE LEAST UNDERSTAND MEN.  I have no idea what they think.. or how the male ego functions... I just know it's like a humming bird egg (no wait, too small right?, guys hate references to cute and small things) so scratch that, it's like, their balls :) I mean it really is ... I should use that as a metaphor on how to treat guys....  I'm stopping there with that analogy.  So, back on track, their ego is supper sensitive, but it's supposed to make them tough or something....  Honestly I'm lost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel like I'm staring across a void.  One that has me on one side and men on the other.  How do I jump that void?  How do I stay true to who I am, true to myself, and still keep a large enough space open for the right guy and his male ego?  Ha.  Don't get me wrong... this is in no way sarcastic or negative.  I honestly want to know. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So where am I?  --- I know I need to open up more, and my sarcastic wit, and razor tongue probably doesn't always help. But they are all parts of me, parts that I love.  I'm clever, I'll give myself that, but I would like to point out.. for the record... I'm not super intelligent, I have met many brilliant people in my life.. and I am not one of them .  But, I'm smart, quick to pick up random details, and bits of information, and I'm pretty good at connecting them.  But when it comes to relationships I'm definitely a -tard.  &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/4804605029722849318-1169019105161157812?l=saraspils-spills.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/feeds/1169019105161157812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804605029722849318&amp;postID=1169019105161157812' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/1169019105161157812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/1169019105161157812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/2010/10/self-discovery.html' title='Self Discovery'/><author><name>sara spils</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08104261974142710142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SRE4QLM2VdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pFXjMw1Od4E/S220/IMG_6323_1098.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804605029722849318.post-7482474779909229433</id><published>2010-10-17T22:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T22:51:33.857-07:00</updated><title type='text'>grumble grumble grumble....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Ha... what the what!  How sad is it that it has been almost 2 years since I've chatted it up here. Sadly, nothing much has changed in my life.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I'm back on my talking about stuff makes you a better person kick...  thus the following words. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So I taught a lesson at church today about chastity...  oh don't worry... it's like the 4th version on the same topic I've had to teach in the past month.  BUT, back on track... during my lesson today one quote really gave me a lot to think about.   Here it is...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 15px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;“Good habits are not acquired simply by making good resolves, though the thought must precede the action. Good habits are developed in the workshop of our daily lives. It is not in the great moments of test and trial that character is built. That is only when it is displayed. The habits that direct our lives and form our character are fashioned in the often uneventful, commonplace routine of life. They are acquired by practice” (Delbert L. Stapley, in Conference Report, Oct. 1974)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 15px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 15px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;and it dawned on me... I haven't been anywhere near good habits in a while...  I'm lacking in so many areas in my life that it makes me a little sad.  So, where is the problem...  while I have made great resolves... I haven't always necessarily moved forward to action... and without that you can never hope to get to the habit stage of things.  During the lesson we talked about how THOUGHTS lead to ACTIONS which lead to HABITS... be them good or bad. But nothing happens with out the thought.  My thoughts have been no where near where they needed to be. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 15px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 15px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Chill out just a second, especially if you are trying to relate the topic of chastity to what I'm talking about ...  cause that's not the case. and not something I'd talk about here...  Hello!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 15px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 15px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So, after the lesson, the girl (yes there was only one that day) left and one of the presidency members and I were talking.  She said, (and I think this is so what I needed to hear today) "it's not like these girls that come to all their meetings are going fall to the ... oops I drank a beer and now I'm pregnant kinda stuff ...  (I paraphrased, if you couldn't tell).  It's that if they don't do the little things like prayer, and scripture study, and develop a relationship with their Heavenly Father now, they'll begin to doubt their worth... and it's in that doubt and self-devaluing that Satan will find his in.  It's then that they will be weak, and it's there that they will turn to others for the validation of self."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 15px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 15px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Ok... now why am I teaching? ... when she was sitting on that the whole time?  These Mothers, they are so smart.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 15px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 15px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;After thinking about that ... and realizing that I don't love where I am emotionally, and spiritually right now... I'm making a resolve to change...  BUT one that is going to start on my thoughts... that will lead to action.  EVERYDAY.....  I will think about the things I need to change and I will DO something different.  On Saturday, I decided that 34 and chubby isn't where I want to be...  so I have 2 months.  I want to change.  I want to get back to where I was about 2 years ago, when I understood the power of positive thinking, and about setting your mind on something  and DOING it were the best ways to start anything.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 15px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: 15px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCCCCC;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So here's to change.  I'm not the best... but I'm planning on getting better.  While my life may be commonplace and uneventful I going to start using this time to better myself, to figure out me.  That way, when the time comes to "kick against the pricks"  I'll know exactly which boots I have in my closet... and exactly which ones will do the trick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804605029722849318-7482474779909229433?l=saraspils-spills.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/feeds/7482474779909229433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804605029722849318&amp;postID=7482474779909229433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/7482474779909229433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/7482474779909229433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/2010/10/grumble-grumble-grumble.html' title='grumble grumble grumble....'/><author><name>sara spils</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08104261974142710142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SRE4QLM2VdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pFXjMw1Od4E/S220/IMG_6323_1098.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804605029722849318.post-7424260914079937675</id><published>2009-01-29T22:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T22:55:20.318-08:00</updated><title type='text'>some pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SYKjcEsWzYI/AAAAAAAAACE/BH6LgNnIS7E/s1600-h/grass+and+vespa+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296975814432574850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SYKjcEsWzYI/AAAAAAAAACE/BH6LgNnIS7E/s320/grass+and+vespa+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                           HOW GOOD DOES THIS LOOK... THAT'S RIGHT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SYKjb-VY5QI/AAAAAAAAAB8/fc-glfViGng/s1600-h/grass+and+vespa+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296975812725630210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SYKjb-VY5QI/AAAAAAAAAB8/fc-glfViGng/s320/grass+and+vespa+018.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                            HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME... 32... AHHH! WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SYKjb3FuZQI/AAAAAAAAAB0/X-JSkDyLIvY/s1600-h/grass+and+vespa+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296975810780882178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SYKjb3FuZQI/AAAAAAAAAB0/X-JSkDyLIvY/s320/grass+and+vespa+015.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                        THE VESPA AFTER A HARD DAY OF WORK...  ISN'T SHE PRETTY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SYKjb9Uq25I/AAAAAAAAABs/6uKhVLci07g/s1600-h/grass+and+vespa+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296975812454177682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SYKjb9Uq25I/AAAAAAAAABs/6uKhVLci07g/s320/grass+and+vespa+013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296975341995507682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SYKjAkulP-I/AAAAAAAAABk/2oE_Wfe2TWo/s320/grass+and+vespa+010.jpg" border="0" /&gt; SHE'S SO PRETTY!  SEE HOW SHE SPARKLES AND SHINES? &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/4804605029722849318-7424260914079937675?l=saraspils-spills.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/feeds/7424260914079937675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804605029722849318&amp;postID=7424260914079937675' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/7424260914079937675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/7424260914079937675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/2009/01/some-pictures.html' title='some pictures'/><author><name>sara spils</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08104261974142710142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SRE4QLM2VdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pFXjMw1Od4E/S220/IMG_6323_1098.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SYKjcEsWzYI/AAAAAAAAACE/BH6LgNnIS7E/s72-c/grass+and+vespa+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804605029722849318.post-6868407462347439897</id><published>2009-01-11T18:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T19:06:58.613-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The New Year</title><content type='html'>a week or so late but what ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll admit it, I have been in a but of a slump lately.  I've been trying to figure out if it is my usually pre-swim season annual depression.  I think it is... but it's time to shake it off and get on with life.  SO here I go.  (and I swear I will take those picture soon!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;New Year New Me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;  (OK, not new but revamped, or next generation... haha cause I'm older)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of the things I want to do this year;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Connect with people, make friends... and expect nothing more.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Work at my job, make it better. Just because I can fly by the seat of my pants doesn't mean I should... it's not fair to my kids, and it doesn't represent me very well either, I'm better than that.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Turn off the TV, and read, walk, enjoy, experience and LIVE.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Share my life with others.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Work out those Spiritual muscles.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Work out all the other muscles too!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;I'm sure there are more so I'll let you know as i add more, maybe :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, there's a little case of what to do for the big birthday coming up.  It's times like these that I wish I was a planner, as it would come in useful.  But alas, I still need to think of something.  Crawling under a rock is out, so the question is "what's a girl to do?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804605029722849318-6868407462347439897?l=saraspils-spills.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/feeds/6868407462347439897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804605029722849318&amp;postID=6868407462347439897' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/6868407462347439897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/6868407462347439897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year.html' title='The New Year'/><author><name>sara spils</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08104261974142710142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SRE4QLM2VdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pFXjMw1Od4E/S220/IMG_6323_1098.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804605029722849318.post-485773218107572137</id><published>2009-01-08T18:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T18:57:04.967-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a green thumb</title><content type='html'>I planted grass.  Not the smokin' variety but the lawn kind.  :)  If you have been to my house before you know that I have a very little postage stamp of a back patio and a pretty small front patio.  I have hated the stuff planted in them for almost forever (or as long as I have lived here).  So I got all farmer Joan on them.  I planted a lemon and a lime tree, some climbing vines and grass, everywhere.  It has taken forever, but it's coming in nicely (pictures to follow). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point of this story is that I had to cut it today.  And I don't have a lawn mower.  So I grabbed a pair of scissors from the kitchen and gave the lawn a trim.  :)  It was pretty fun.  I got most of it done in the hour I had before the sun went down and the lawn got too wet. It looks pretty awesome...  and to tell you the truth I liked, I'm weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think is that it's too small to get a lawn mower, so I'll either have to get a weed whacker, or a bigger pair of scissors! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804605029722849318-485773218107572137?l=saraspils-spills.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/feeds/485773218107572137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804605029722849318&amp;postID=485773218107572137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/485773218107572137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/485773218107572137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/2009/01/green-thumb.html' title='a green thumb'/><author><name>sara spils</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08104261974142710142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SRE4QLM2VdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pFXjMw1Od4E/S220/IMG_6323_1098.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804605029722849318.post-6680312995039916212</id><published>2009-01-05T13:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T14:00:26.893-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to the Grindstone</title><content type='html'>OK, so I was looking around my desk at work  and thinking about all the papers I have to grade that are artfully hidden at home and I realized, unfortunately, I have A LOT to do.  As it turns out I am STILL a HUGE procrastinator/slacker.  So much so that I thought, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hmmm&lt;/span&gt;, I should write something on my blog (that only two people look at) {shout out Lyn &amp;amp; Dad!} so that I can put off doing what needs to be done for just a little bit longer.  This is truly a very complicated disease!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its funny after every break or weekend I get to listen to the unsuccessful procrastination exploits of my AP/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;IB&lt;/span&gt; students.  They talk about how late they stayed up, how much of the assignment they didn't finish and try to put the blame on me and the homework I assign, or their other teachers or jobs, or their family that was in town.  I invariable have to stop them to give them a little education in the art or and use of procrastination. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are a disgrace to the name of procrastination.  Last time I checked, to be truly successful at procrastinating, you need to actually FINISH the work.  Stupid kids! :)  I mean if you don't actually get the assignment done, then you're not procrastinating, your not completing.  It's an important point.  I also want all those procrastinators out there to realize that it's your fault you waited until the last minute, that's what you say when you say you procrastinated.  It's your own fault you were up until all hours of the night.  You could have started weeks ago, but you didn't. I should have spent the whole two weeks of Christmas break grading and preparing lessons, but I didn't.  That makes me a slacker, not a procrastinator.  I just think people need an intervention when they use the word, because they aren't always using it correctly.   Wow, I guess I really needed to get that out there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of intervention, I think I want a Dog.  I know, I've been watching too much Dog Whisperer and Animal Cops ... but I think I do.  .... and maybe I went to the Animal Shelter on Saturday, just to have a look.  Don't worry, I didn't bring anyone home with me.... yet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus I'm really holding &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;out&lt;/span&gt; for a three-legged dog, (2 front 1 back!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804605029722849318-6680312995039916212?l=saraspils-spills.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/feeds/6680312995039916212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804605029722849318&amp;postID=6680312995039916212' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/6680312995039916212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/6680312995039916212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/2009/01/back-to-grindstone.html' title='Back to the Grindstone'/><author><name>sara spils</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08104261974142710142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SRE4QLM2VdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pFXjMw1Od4E/S220/IMG_6323_1098.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804605029722849318.post-6889215204274795625</id><published>2008-12-22T00:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T00:41:47.645-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Break Begins</title><content type='html'>I don't have to go to work tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's all&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804605029722849318-6889215204274795625?l=saraspils-spills.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/feeds/6889215204274795625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804605029722849318&amp;postID=6889215204274795625' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/6889215204274795625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/6889215204274795625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-break-begins.html' title='Christmas Break Begins'/><author><name>sara spils</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08104261974142710142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SRE4QLM2VdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pFXjMw1Od4E/S220/IMG_6323_1098.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804605029722849318.post-5684893241578172660</id><published>2008-12-21T23:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T00:21:57.918-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snowy California Living</title><content type='html'>HELLO!  To the whole 2 of you that might read this.... sorry, i never said i was going to be good at this blogging thing.. but here is an attempt.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are only 3 things &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; going to talk about today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;First&lt;/strong&gt; and most important... after having watched The Biggest Loser i have to get something off my chest and let the rest of the world know.  I hated Vicky.. she was nasty and mean and so ugly.  Now i know that's sad, but i needed to get it out there.  You can't treat people badly/ or be a puppet-master and expect to be loved.  yeah it was a game, but she was nasty to people just to satisfy her own agenda.  It's a game i get it, but there's a thing called sportsmanship... and she was COMPLETELY lacking.  (so important obviously.. the funny thing is this isn't coming off as opinionated about it as i am... i honestly couldn't watch her with out getting upset, but I'm over it now, so don't get too concerned about my mental stability! )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Second&lt;/strong&gt;... and much better than the first... IT SNOWED IN SO CAL this past week!  Honest to goodness powdery glorious snow. It monsoon-ed here in Huntington, but it snowed as low as 2000 feet... which means that the ski resorts that are usually complete RUBBISH were GLORIOUS on Thursday, Friday and Saturday (the roads were closed on wed so you couldn't go up, or come down).  So as i drove to school Thursday morning gazing at the mountains that I usually can't see I had some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;yearnings&lt;/span&gt; to get out there and enjoy the snow on my board...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Third..&lt;/strong&gt; I went snowboarding on Saturday, and it was awesome.. great snow.  I went with some friends from work and they convinced me to compete in a Slalom Snowboarding competition.  IT was tons of fun, and the best part was skipping lines at the lift, cause as it turns out when you are a competitor the lines part!  :)  Now how did i do...  I'm sure you are very curious.  I competed in the Women's Master group, and well...  I won two gold metals.  So that was fun... i guess when you are the only person competing all you have to do is cross the finish line and you're in, and I was the Champion at that!  When the snow is great it doesn't matter how small the resort is or how long the lines are, everything is fun!  (especially jumping the lines legally! and ok... bragging rights on winning gold as a snowboarder in a real competition was pretty cool too!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804605029722849318-5684893241578172660?l=saraspils-spills.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/feeds/5684893241578172660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804605029722849318&amp;postID=5684893241578172660' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/5684893241578172660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/5684893241578172660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/2008/12/snowy-california-living.html' title='Snowy California Living'/><author><name>sara spils</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08104261974142710142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SRE4QLM2VdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pFXjMw1Od4E/S220/IMG_6323_1098.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804605029722849318.post-5737618531251330142</id><published>2008-11-13T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T18:29:02.958-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahhh...  I love November!</title><content type='html'>so i have a new found love for November.  and not for a profound sence of thankfulness, or for the feel of winter (although it is a little nice to wear coats outside of my classroom). no, i love it for purely selfish reasons.  I just finished a 2 day break from school, and i get a week off at thanksgiving.... so ... I LOVE NOVEMBER!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804605029722849318-5737618531251330142?l=saraspils-spills.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/feeds/5737618531251330142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804605029722849318&amp;postID=5737618531251330142' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/5737618531251330142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/5737618531251330142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/2008/11/ahhh-i-love-november.html' title='Ahhh...  I love November!'/><author><name>sara spils</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08104261974142710142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SRE4QLM2VdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pFXjMw1Od4E/S220/IMG_6323_1098.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4804605029722849318.post-7162996324242981444</id><published>2008-11-04T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T22:45:36.644-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello.....Hello? ...... Hellllooooo?</title><content type='html'>Yes, Lyn, I'm full of crap and eating my words. To the rest of you I have opposed needy attention seekers with blogs for a while now and yet, here i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why am I doing this then?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, i have a hard time opening up to people, seriously a strange affliction that doesn't make any sense to me, but there it is. I have been thinking a lot about how i should do this as a form of therapy, you know start somewhere where it won't be too painful, but still outside of that very comfortable comfort zone. So here i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also think that it will be a good way to keep in touch with my family, cause i feel like i never talk to you or hear from you (not a dig, so don;t feel either defensive or guilty 'cause i know the phone works two ways). And friends too, 'cause i am HORRIBLE at keeping in touch. So, i shall follow in my big sister's footsteps and blog. you can all thank Lyn, :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so here is the first post. or was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a warning- i don;t always capitalize and i always hit the wrong key (; instead of' ') think of it as an adorable quirk.... :) love ya&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4804605029722849318-7162996324242981444?l=saraspils-spills.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/feeds/7162996324242981444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4804605029722849318&amp;postID=7162996324242981444' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/7162996324242981444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4804605029722849318/posts/default/7162996324242981444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saraspils-spills.blogspot.com/2008/11/eating-crow.html' title='Hello.....Hello? ...... Hellllooooo?'/><author><name>sara spils</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08104261974142710142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ePPBhZPaCpQ/SRE4QLM2VdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/pFXjMw1Od4E/S220/IMG_6323_1098.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
