<?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-4068313085113856485</id><updated>2011-07-07T23:49:13.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feebrock</title><subtitle type='html'>Buon Giorno!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ambrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/TREMXF39oGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6kJLswfsCIQ/S220/ml%2Bbells.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4068313085113856485.post-6746350827571778010</id><published>2010-05-26T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T12:40:41.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Roma!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Tomorrow I will be on a plane to Roma! I just realized today, how unprepared I am. I haven't really done too much laundry, made a packing list or anything or that nature. I am kind of ok with that. I did get a fresh spray tan though, don't worry.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;I am most excited about trying to find the best rooftop bar to sip vino before dinner and watch the sunset. I love being where the locals are. I know we will all still stick out like tourists, but it is still a challenge to try to fit in. =) I am blessed to have four great friends to experience this trip with. I simply cannot wait! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Additionally, not working for 7 days will be pure bliss. There is absolutely no way work can get in touch with me. None at all. This is pure joy for me. I am sure the office will shut down without me anyways, I hold this place together, like nailing jello to a wall. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Both dogs will be staying with some good friends Katie, Travis, Kingston, and Bella.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S_12TSTTOHI/AAAAAAAAAEg/gU6BAPMsKXk/s1600/kt+and+trav.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S_12TSTTOHI/AAAAAAAAAEg/gU6BAPMsKXk/s200/kt+and+trav.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I have no idea why they are so excited to babysit our dogs. I mean they have met them... However, they kindly offered, and I know they will take good care of them.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;To end this post, I will post a list of my favorite italian words:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. bicicletta &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. mangia &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. uomo &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;4.&amp;nbsp; papa &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. sparca &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;6. asciugamano&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;7. cavallo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;8. gioiella&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;9. vindici&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;10. vino&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Buno notte il mio amore =)&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/4068313085113856485-6746350827571778010?l=feebrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6746350827571778010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2010/05/roma.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/6746350827571778010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/6746350827571778010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2010/05/roma.html' title='Roma!!!!!'/><author><name>ambrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/TREMXF39oGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6kJLswfsCIQ/S220/ml%2Bbells.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S_12TSTTOHI/AAAAAAAAAEg/gU6BAPMsKXk/s72-c/kt+and+trav.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4068313085113856485.post-2628536718159495261</id><published>2010-05-12T12:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T12:14:34.399-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nappy Roots and Rhinoplasty</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Missed my hair appointment on Monday because I was hiding out in the bathroom at work from the "tornado." Having grown up in Oklahoma, I should be used to the tornado drills. At any rate, rescheduled aforementioned hair appointment for today at 5:30. Mind you, I get my hair colored every four weeks. Some say high maintenance, I say routine maintenance. I am very picky about the color of my hair, and the moment a root starts to show, I'm ready to be in that chair with foils on. Now, this hair appointment on Monday which I missed was already a reschedule from my recent trip to Antlers, OK. So today, I am going on about 5.5 weeks with no color touch up. Very stressfull situation. The only thing stressing me out more is the recent nomination of Elena Kagan (more on that another time). So I was going to be a rebel, and leave work early. At 5. I really can justify this because it is Wednesday and I haven't taken a lunch anyday this week... Justified or not, it has to be done. Well, about 1.5 hours ago, JLo informs me that our boss will be rolling into town this afternoon. Damn the luck. This is the one situation that is going to prevent me from getting my hair colored tonight. I am thoroughly dissapointed.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S-r77LNPhDI/AAAAAAAAAEY/mvugtGgbtWQ/s1600/Mothers+day+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S-r77LNPhDI/AAAAAAAAAEY/mvugtGgbtWQ/s320/Mothers+day+006.jpg" /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;In other news, why didn't I buy pet health insurance. My dog's go to the vet more than I get my roots done. Margot Polo has been three times for this cough she has been battling. The most recent time, Dr. 90210 confirmed what he said during her early months, "the dog will need a rhinoplasty." Now, the first time I really thought he could be kidding, or maybe getting the rhinoplasty was something he tells every new pet owner to downplay all the other expenses they get you for at the vet on a routine visit. No, no, he really thinks in about 6 months M.P. a/k/a Heidi Dogtag will need a nose job. I guess her nasal passageway is to small to allow for an adequate amount of air to flow through, resulting in breathing problems, etc. etc.&amp;nbsp; I guess I will forego paying for myself to have any kind of work done, maybe a facial, peel, eyebrow wax... My dog's gettin plastics. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4068313085113856485-2628536718159495261?l=feebrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/feeds/2628536718159495261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2010/05/nappy-roots-and-rhinoplasty.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/2628536718159495261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/2628536718159495261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2010/05/nappy-roots-and-rhinoplasty.html' title='Nappy Roots and Rhinoplasty'/><author><name>ambrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/TREMXF39oGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6kJLswfsCIQ/S220/ml%2Bbells.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S-r77LNPhDI/AAAAAAAAAEY/mvugtGgbtWQ/s72-c/Mothers+day+006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4068313085113856485.post-4260598309256656842</id><published>2010-05-09T17:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T17:49:25.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY MOTHER DAY</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S-dXqXLwxFI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/I7_YuZn95QU/s1600/me+and+mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S-dXqXLwxFI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/I7_YuZn95QU/s320/me+and+mom.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Happy Mom's day to my mom, Vicki. She is just as pretty and sweet today, as she was in this picture. I am a lucky girl! Love ya mom!&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/4068313085113856485-4260598309256656842?l=feebrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/feeds/4260598309256656842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2010/05/happy-mother-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/4260598309256656842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/4260598309256656842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2010/05/happy-mother-day.html' title='HAPPY MOTHER DAY'/><author><name>ambrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/TREMXF39oGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6kJLswfsCIQ/S220/ml%2Bbells.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S-dXqXLwxFI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/I7_YuZn95QU/s72-c/me+and+mom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4068313085113856485.post-6934896800864426100</id><published>2010-05-05T10:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T11:08:51.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Origins</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;I am a sucker for all things "for sale." I am any store clerk's favorite consumer. I can be talked into purchasing a turd on a stick, and go home feeling like I just took a hit off the euphoria pipe. Seriously though, some people view my impulsivity as a negative. I probably should view it the same. However, it makes for some interesting buyers remorse.&amp;nbsp; Alas, once in a blue moon, I feel proud of myself for making the bold purchases that I did. Here is an example&lt;/span&gt;&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;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S-Gm-TeQ4LI/AAAAAAAAADA/RNpVmWq012k/s1600/origins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S-Gm-TeQ4LI/AAAAAAAAADA/RNpVmWq012k/s320/origins.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Origins: Modern Friction. This is an exfoliator/peel/micro derm in a jar. It is spectacular. I encourage anyone with a face to use this.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Ciao&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4068313085113856485-6934896800864426100?l=feebrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6934896800864426100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2010/05/origins.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/6934896800864426100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/6934896800864426100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2010/05/origins.html' title='Origins'/><author><name>ambrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/TREMXF39oGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6kJLswfsCIQ/S220/ml%2Bbells.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S-Gm-TeQ4LI/AAAAAAAAADA/RNpVmWq012k/s72-c/origins.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4068313085113856485.post-6481690268948448709</id><published>2010-04-29T13:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T11:08:24.900-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OVERACHIEVER... ARE YOU ONE?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;My bestie at work, JLo, and I text all the time.&amp;nbsp; Usually at the end of the day about something that happened at work, and ALWAYS before work. We do this because of our work environment, and the importance of being prepared for anything and everything that may happen. For instance, he may need to remind me to "not look ugly" or I may need to remind him to "spray tan."&amp;nbsp; At any rate, we are frequent texters.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Lately we have been switching off getting coffee or tea at SBUX of a morning. (as mentioned before, we are besties) So this morning, I return home from bootcamp, and run into the bathroom to get into the shower like I do every morning. (I like routines) I take extremely quick showers, mainly because I strongly feel I am ADD, and I get bored. I bounce out of the shower, and hear my text signal. Its JLo- "just got to the office" he says. WTF! Its 6:52 in the morning. We don't have to be at work until 8:30. (actually 9:00 according to the employee manual, but no one follows the manual). One hour and thirty eight minutes early. I would call this overachieving. By no means would I consider myself lazy, or an "underachiever", I simply believe I am "on par." Being on par is awesome. Why the hell would I want to walk into work an hour and thirty eight minutes early, when I know I am going to be staying late. JLo and I stay late alot at work, and this really doesn't bother me. I would prefer to do my overachieving at the end of the day, rather than at the beginning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;By the time I get to work (at 8:30), JLo is happily working away in his office. I walk in to discuss our upcoming trip to Antlers. He insists we leave at 6:30. Leave from the office at 6:30! Holy Moly! My suspicions are confirmed, he is an overachiever. Probably always has been and always will be.&amp;nbsp; This creates a conundrum for me. Should I start trying to overachieve? Is his overachieveness going to make me look like an underachiever, or will people realize I am achieving at the correct level. It wouldn't be called overachieving if you were achieving just the right amount.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Now I start thinking of all the overachievers from HS and College, and Law School. This leads me to a little story I like to call "Dyke Bank." Yes, it was a nickname of someone in law school, which my friend KP and I gave someone from our class. DB liked to overachieve and shoot that hand up before each question could even finish spilling out the professors mouth. I mean, even if I wanted to answer the question, which I never did, simply because I didn't want people to hate me for being soooo smart. I mean I'm sure everyone thought I was probably 1 or 2 in the class, so why keep rubbing it in. Anyways, DB shot the hand up every time, it was truly amazing, and regretfully, probably one of the reasons DB and I never got as close as I knew we could.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;I bring this blog to a close because I just received a text from JLo, and now I feel guilty.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Arrivaderci!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4068313085113856485-6481690268948448709?l=feebrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/feeds/6481690268948448709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2010/04/overachiever-are-you-one.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/6481690268948448709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/6481690268948448709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2010/04/overachiever-are-you-one.html' title='OVERACHIEVER... ARE YOU ONE?'/><author><name>ambrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/TREMXF39oGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6kJLswfsCIQ/S220/ml%2Bbells.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4068313085113856485.post-8810439958532886094</id><published>2010-04-27T10:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T10:10:11.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Teeny</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;CONGRATULATIONS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S9cXaz0gKuI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Dx8RHbl4Qsg/s1600/IMG_0483.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S9cXaz0gKuI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Dx8RHbl4Qsg/s200/IMG_0483.jpg" width="163" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Buona Pomegiatta! Congratulations to my dear friend Christina on her graduation from Nursing School. I guess those four years on the Dean's List in Accounting at OSU just wasn't enough for you =) Christina and I became friends our Sophomore year of college when she transferred from Nebraska. I suspect we will remain friends for a very long time. She is one of the most thoughtful,&amp;nbsp; intelligent, kind people you will ever meet. At first, I wasn't sure if she would like nursing, she will be the first to admit how pampered she is. But she does have a big heart, and a thing for doctors so I think she will be great! I would love to be sick and have someone as pretty and nice as Christina taking care of me. I, along with two of my other friends from college, will be traveling to Kansas City for the weekend to witness this event. I suspect since it is somewhat related to college, the aroma of frat parties and jello shots will be in the air, and we will likely treat this weekend just like any other college weekend. =) Cheers!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4068313085113856485-8810439958532886094?l=feebrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/feeds/8810439958532886094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2010/04/teeny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/8810439958532886094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/8810439958532886094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2010/04/teeny.html' title='Teeny'/><author><name>ambrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/TREMXF39oGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6kJLswfsCIQ/S220/ml%2Bbells.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S9cXaz0gKuI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Dx8RHbl4Qsg/s72-c/IMG_0483.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4068313085113856485.post-7458521373736598329</id><published>2010-04-26T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T11:19:09.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'>April 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S9XWobRVZ3I/AAAAAAAAACw/KT0RgTFP3-g/s1600/dtown.jpg"&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/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S9XWobRVZ3I/AAAAAAAAACw/KT0RgTFP3-g/s320/dtown.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464509712887539570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its funny how many things can change in just a year. A year ago today I was an energetic graduate student, and still a proud resident of Tulsa, Oklahoma. I had only one pup of a pet. Today, I am a real adult with a real job, and real worries, one large learning disabled dog, and one shrimp of another dog.  However, when I think back and reflect on my life a year ago, and compare it with today; I figure the same things still make me happy, so not that much has really changed. Reflecting on what truly makes you happy, and what really makes you feel at home  brings some perspective, and comfort. Everyday when I'm driving home from work, I look forward to hugging my doggies,  (or maybe having them attack me), seeing my husband discussing our days, and getting the mail of course (ever since I was 4 and my mother allowed me to leave the house by myself, I have always enjoyed fetching the mail. Getting the mail brings that sense of excitement I think those who are addicted to heroin might feel) At any rate, since I haven't blogged since October, thought I would start with a short and sweet one. Life is good, friends are great, wine can cure almost any ailment. Ciao! (I will be inserting one Italian phrase into any blog I post until I return from Italy. I am trying laboriously to learn the Language of Love...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4068313085113856485-7458521373736598329?l=feebrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/feeds/7458521373736598329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2010/04/april-2010.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/7458521373736598329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/7458521373736598329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2010/04/april-2010.html' title='April 2010'/><author><name>ambrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/TREMXF39oGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6kJLswfsCIQ/S220/ml%2Bbells.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/S9XWobRVZ3I/AAAAAAAAACw/KT0RgTFP3-g/s72-c/dtown.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4068313085113856485.post-8803427732422183522</id><published>2009-10-14T09:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T09:21:37.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Art</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/StX6iV7cEBI/AAAAAAAAACc/Fl-nNRD5lmE/s1600-h/owls.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392491596754980882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 151px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/StX6iV7cEBI/AAAAAAAAACc/Fl-nNRD5lmE/s320/owls.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK. I used to have an obsession with this boutique in Tulsa called Little Black Dress.I probably would still have an obsession, but I moved out of the area code. Super cute clothes, and a super sweet owner. Well I was looking at their site, and they are decorating with some super cute art. I wanted to share this site, it is totally worth looking out. This guy is very talented!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sloanemerrickart.com/gallery/hearts-collection/"&gt;http://www.sloanemerrickart.com/gallery/hearts-collection/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;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/4068313085113856485-8803427732422183522?l=feebrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/feeds/8803427732422183522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2009/10/art.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/8803427732422183522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/8803427732422183522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2009/10/art.html' title='Art'/><author><name>ambrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/TREMXF39oGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6kJLswfsCIQ/S220/ml%2Bbells.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/StX6iV7cEBI/AAAAAAAAACc/Fl-nNRD5lmE/s72-c/owls.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4068313085113856485.post-351023581839864876</id><published>2009-10-13T15:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T15:20:10.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PEEPING TOM</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/StT8ssSZ3uI/AAAAAAAAACU/KB2_qtnBZgI/s1600-h/Peeping+Tom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392212498602122978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 182px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/StT8ssSZ3uI/AAAAAAAAACU/KB2_qtnBZgI/s320/Peeping+Tom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The topic was touched on at lunch today. "The Peeping Tom". We were all discussing how utterly mortifying it would be, to find that you have one. Looking up from my morning regime of coating on 25 layers of mascara, and then to find that someone is peeping in on me. How intrusive!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The discussion made me ponder a few issues. First, why is his name Tom? Do people who actually have the name Tom, feel more inclined to peep? Does someone name their offspring Tom because they once were a PT? Would the phrase have the same effect if his name was Pete? Peeping Pete? Also, why is it this crime gets afforded such a charming nick-name? I mean, we don't call burglars- burglaring Freds. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, at what point do you cross the line of simply being a curious individual, a Nancy Drew of sorts, into recieving the stigma of a "Peeping Tom?" I mean we all have some degree of curiousity deeply rooted within us, some more than others. So, at what point do you become a Tom? Is it when you actually trespass onto another's property in order to get a peep? Or do you even have to tresspass? Can you be a PT with binoculars across the street? Do you have to be peeing on a certain individual, or can you just peep into an empty house? Can you peep into a garage, or is a garage even considered attached to the actual homestead in order to render it a private area? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Many of this issues, have caused me much anxiety this afternoon. Causing me to neglect my duties at work, and sit, debating the importance of the label, PT. It was only after hours of stress, when I realized "All of these answers can be answered with the click of the button"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So.... I clicked on Wikipedia, and my questions have all been answered. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For, the Wikipedia definition of a Peeping Tom is as follows:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peeping Tom is a person who, in the legend of &lt;a title="Lady Godiva" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lady_Godiva"&gt;Lady Godiva&lt;/a&gt;, watched her during her ride and was struck blind or dead. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Peeping!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&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/4068313085113856485-351023581839864876?l=feebrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/feeds/351023581839864876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2009/10/peeping-tom.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/351023581839864876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/351023581839864876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2009/10/peeping-tom.html' title='PEEPING TOM'/><author><name>ambrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/TREMXF39oGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6kJLswfsCIQ/S220/ml%2Bbells.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/StT8ssSZ3uI/AAAAAAAAACU/KB2_qtnBZgI/s72-c/Peeping+Tom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4068313085113856485.post-8788821267282200860</id><published>2009-09-25T10:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T10:29:54.908-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/Srz8_lXjWRI/AAAAAAAAACM/pU37JiIMonU/s1600-h/Ginsburg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385457423721126162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/Srz8_lXjWRI/AAAAAAAAACM/pU37JiIMonU/s320/Ginsburg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fascinating tid-bits about R.B.G. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. She's 76 and she still works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. She was born on March 15, the last day of the ides of March.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. She has a wicked fashion sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. She will be celebrating Yom Kippur on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Her favorite designer is Jimmy Choo. (this is unconfirmed)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. She reminds me alot of Zach Nash.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4068313085113856485-8788821267282200860?l=feebrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/feeds/8788821267282200860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2009/09/fascinating-tid-bits-about-r.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/8788821267282200860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/8788821267282200860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2009/09/fascinating-tid-bits-about-r.html' title=''/><author><name>ambrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/TREMXF39oGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6kJLswfsCIQ/S220/ml%2Bbells.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/Srz8_lXjWRI/AAAAAAAAACM/pU37JiIMonU/s72-c/Ginsburg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4068313085113856485.post-491376790620817510</id><published>2009-09-25T08:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T10:19:20.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>9.25.09</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/SrzmGckNT1I/AAAAAAAAACE/GtOswImZiQ0/s1600-h/Summer+09+178.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385432252849934162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/SrzmGckNT1I/AAAAAAAAACE/GtOswImZiQ0/s320/Summer+09+178.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Things I look forward to:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Getting my hair done by MEL tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Getting a Pedicure for Jen's birthday tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Tailgating tomorrow at the OSU game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Leaving work today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Removing my eye makeup tonight becuase my eyes hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Retiring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Drinking wine tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Things I do not look forward to:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Driving to Dallas on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Showering tomorrow morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Putting the ironing board away before Brett gets home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Wiping my makeup off the counter before Brett gets home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyones list of what they look forward to, far outweighs the list of things they dread!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4068313085113856485-491376790620817510?l=feebrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/feeds/491376790620817510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2009/09/92509.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/491376790620817510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/491376790620817510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2009/09/92509.html' title='9.25.09'/><author><name>ambrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/TREMXF39oGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6kJLswfsCIQ/S220/ml%2Bbells.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/SrzmGckNT1I/AAAAAAAAACE/GtOswImZiQ0/s72-c/Summer+09+178.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4068313085113856485.post-8170634041547075794</id><published>2009-09-24T12:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T13:43:06.939-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Mother</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/SrvK5iraXBI/AAAAAAAAAB0/0Wh-ubBRayg/s1600-h/Summer+09+203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385120869361802258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/SrvK5iraXBI/AAAAAAAAAB0/0Wh-ubBRayg/s320/Summer+09+203.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I wish to dedicate this post to my wonderful mother, the Vickster. Tuesday, I was initiated into the Law Frat of Oklahoma, and my mom presented me with this lovely cake. To top it off, it happened to be HER birthday, and I ended up with the cake. My mom is truly a selfless person. I will not go into great detail, but here are some of the thoughtful things she has done for me throughout the years:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;1. While living in STW, I really wanted this pair of tan heels that I left in Owasso. My mom met me halfway between STW and Owasso to give them to me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;2. Took me for Donuts after I totaled my first vehicle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;3. Drove to TU, picked up my transcript, drove it all the way to Edmond, so I could still take the Bar Exam. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;4. Drove from Owasso to Tulsa in an ice storm, to take me to the doctor because I fell coming out of a bar(not my fault), and hurt my head. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Overall, my mom is nothing but positive, never acts in a selfish manner, and has always put me first. I know that all mothers do this. Even if all mothers do act this way, I think there is a point in our lives when we really start appreciating it, it comes at different times for different people. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My mom is a great person. We differ in immaterial ways. However, I am certain any charming qualities I possess came straight from her. If I ever have children, I hope I can just give them to her. I did that with my dog. =) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/4068313085113856485-8170634041547075794?l=feebrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/feeds/8170634041547075794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-mother.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/8170634041547075794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/8170634041547075794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-mother.html' title='My Mother'/><author><name>ambrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/TREMXF39oGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6kJLswfsCIQ/S220/ml%2Bbells.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/SrvK5iraXBI/AAAAAAAAAB0/0Wh-ubBRayg/s72-c/Summer+09+203.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4068313085113856485.post-4762258036095967414</id><published>2009-09-21T14:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T14:26:17.804-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Neiman's- I will CUT you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/SrfvC7a2v2I/AAAAAAAAABs/qKfBG5_53QU/s1600-h/Neimans.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384034713133825890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 161px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 63px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/SrfvC7a2v2I/AAAAAAAAABs/qKfBG5_53QU/s320/Neimans.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK, so I know so far my blogging skills have been pretty shoddy. I will do better, I promise. As if anyone really reads this. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the other day I decided to get myself a new LV wallet. Well I decided it a long time ago, I was just waiting for the perfect time to spring it on my husband, Brett. Anyways, after my success on the mother truckin Bar Exam, I decided it was the perfect time. Well after about a week of NEVER being off work before 6, (the Neiman's by my apartment closes at 6), I finally had the perfect oppurtunity. I strolled into Neimans, trying to act calm and collected. Before I could make it to the LV area, I got stuck at the makeup counter. And thank Jesus that I got distracted. I genuinely needed this loot at the Lancome counter, no lie. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I don't even wear Lancome, never have, never will- but it was calling my name. At any rate, I decide on 4 eyeshadows, mascara, and a "state of the art, can't live without it" blending brush. I won't go into detail but my the total cost was fairly modest. I pull out my trustee debit, and the snot at the counter says "Uhhhh, we do not take VISA at Neiman Marcus, only AMEX, Neimans Charge or Mastercard". WTF- no debit card! Who doesn't take VISA! So I was stuck there.At any rate- I ended up paying with a check. Which is retarded. Why would any establishment take a check over a debit card! This really pissed me off. But in the end, I am sooo thankful this happened, because if I would have stepped into the LV department first, my check would have bounced on out of the department... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4068313085113856485-4762258036095967414?l=feebrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/feeds/4762258036095967414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2009/09/neimans-i-will-cut-you.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/4762258036095967414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/4762258036095967414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2009/09/neimans-i-will-cut-you.html' title='Neiman&apos;s- I will CUT you'/><author><name>ambrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/TREMXF39oGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6kJLswfsCIQ/S220/ml%2Bbells.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/SrfvC7a2v2I/AAAAAAAAABs/qKfBG5_53QU/s72-c/Neimans.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4068313085113856485.post-2389879687936620481</id><published>2009-09-04T12:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T12:42:22.861-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Currently Reading</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/SqFoX-CO4LI/AAAAAAAAAA4/MWVCr9QUpAQ/s1600-h/Mafia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377694191055724722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 154px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/SqFoX-CO4LI/AAAAAAAAAA4/MWVCr9QUpAQ/s320/Mafia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I enjoy reading when I have the time. I also like to purchase things. I am currently reading "Mafia Encyclopedia" (Third Edition). This jem of a book was a gift from my boss, who once asked me what my hobbies were. I blurted out "The Mafia". Not like "The Mafia" is really any kind of a hobby, like golfing or scuba-diving or church but I got nervous. I read too much into the question. I suppose I said the Mafia becuase to me "what are your hobbies?", actually means, "blurt out something totally random". At any rate, I guess he admired my interest in organized crime, because I was presented with this wonderful guide of the inner workings of the boss's, the capo's, and the consigliere's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to read a few excerpts each night.  The book is  organized (haha organized, like organized crime) alphabetically. If you become confused during the day and can't remember whether Angelo Genna or Joe Aiella was the Chicago boss, just look up each by the first letter of their last name, and BAM. Question answered. I'm not sure why exactly I am obsessed with the idea of organized crime or the Mafia. It started many moons ago, I remember once sitting around my parents house in Owasso just really hoping someone we knew was a mobster. I casually asked my dad "Do you know anyone in the Mafia?" To which he replied "Uhh, I'm in a Union at work, I think alot of times, Mafia has to do with the Union." Hahahahaha. Clearly my dad has a regular hobby of golf, not MAFIA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Furthermore, I have decided to learn Italian. I have the Rosetta Stone Italian. I opened it up and it confused the hell out of me. If anyone has done "the stone" let me know how it works. I will close with a great quote from Al Capone . . . "I don't even know what street Canada is on."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4068313085113856485-2389879687936620481?l=feebrock.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/feeds/2389879687936620481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2009/09/currently-reading.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/2389879687936620481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4068313085113856485/posts/default/2389879687936620481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://feebrock.blogspot.com/2009/09/currently-reading.html' title='Currently Reading'/><author><name>ambrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/TREMXF39oGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/6kJLswfsCIQ/S220/ml%2Bbells.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cs2dAt6KzfI/SqFoX-CO4LI/AAAAAAAAAA4/MWVCr9QUpAQ/s72-c/Mafia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
