<?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-7037043056110446148</id><updated>2011-12-20T02:59:01.688-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Col Tempo</title><subtitle type='html'>Da Vinci: Col tempo ogni cosa va variando.
          With time everything changes.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>238</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-1980270432808018214</id><published>2008-06-03T21:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T21:36:33.767-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rolling Out</title><content type='html'>just as pete said goodbye today to old blue, i'm gonna go ahead and say goodbye to old green here.  i've moved on to a WordPress site at: &lt;a href="http://coltempo.wordpress.com"&gt;http://coltempo.wordpress.com&lt;/a&gt;.  check it.  exciting!!  change your bookmarks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-1980270432808018214?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/1980270432808018214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=1980270432808018214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1980270432808018214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1980270432808018214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/06/rolling-out.html' title='Rolling Out'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-4286444072182156693</id><published>2008-06-02T21:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T21:51:31.221-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Indecisive</title><content type='html'>so since my last post, which garnered all of one comment from my doting reverend, i have gone from clear nails to red nails and then back to a pale pale pinky neutral.  and then i just looked at my blog and now i kind of....want to go back to super dark.  god knows what will happen when i spend tomorrow looking at 100 sets of nails at work.  someone put a hold on my bank account so i don't go buy out all of the polish at CVS.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-4286444072182156693?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/4286444072182156693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=4286444072182156693' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/4286444072182156693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/4286444072182156693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/06/indecisive.html' title='Indecisive'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-5502549935092857989</id><published>2008-05-31T22:10:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T22:24:35.069-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nail Dilemma</title><content type='html'>one of my well-known, certified addictions is to nailpolish.  i am easily swayed by seeing different shades out on people, or on tv.  i commenced a severe addiction to super-dark red/virtually black polish after watching too much of the hills, and seeing LC with such pretty manicures, as so:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img2.timeinc.net/people/i/2007/stylewatch/gallery/style_nails/lauren_conrad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img2.timeinc.net/people/i/2007/stylewatch/gallery/style_nails/lauren_conrad.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;lately i've been seeing a hot red around on people, and did do a full week with that on.  now, in a rare mood, i've got totally clear polish on and i'm not sure how i feel about it.  honestly, a little naked.  i've almost always got a color on so life is a little off-kilter right now.  i need advice, people.  what color is good?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SEIWR66iluI/AAAAAAAAA00/d5-Cf6-fmD4/s1600-h/n50100965_30915980_5134.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SEIWR66iluI/AAAAAAAAA00/d5-Cf6-fmD4/s320/n50100965_30915980_5134.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206748616322094818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SEIVr66iltI/AAAAAAAAA0s/orlRVRqrERA/s1600-h/100_1561.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SEIVr66iltI/AAAAAAAAA0s/orlRVRqrERA/s320/100_1561.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206747963487065810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SEIU7K6ilsI/AAAAAAAAA0k/CKWW_gZ1GOU/s1600-h/IMG_0261.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SEIU7K6ilsI/AAAAAAAAA0k/CKWW_gZ1GOU/s320/IMG_0261.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206747125968443074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-5502549935092857989?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/5502549935092857989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=5502549935092857989' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5502549935092857989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5502549935092857989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/nail-dilemma.html' title='Nail Dilemma'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SEIWR66iluI/AAAAAAAAA00/d5-Cf6-fmD4/s72-c/n50100965_30915980_5134.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-1367888252787445309</id><published>2008-05-30T08:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T08:38:02.922-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Night</title><content type='html'>apparently i forgot to post last night.  i could be crafty and change my date and time stamp on this and make you THINK i posted, but that would be wrong.  instead, i will own up to the fact that after working til 9 pm last night (don't worry, i didn't go in to work til 1 pm) and after wearing high heels all day long (at a retail job, so i stood for the entire time), i think the exhaustion in my feet and calves traveled up to my brain and hit it over the head with a sledgehammer.  i was wiped out, to say the least.  so there is my excuse, exhaustion as caused by wearing high heels.  it's probably in a medical dictionary somewhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-1367888252787445309?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/1367888252787445309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=1367888252787445309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1367888252787445309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1367888252787445309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/last-night_30.html' title='Last Night'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-7742604073194605372</id><published>2008-05-28T22:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T22:08:10.513-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Confession</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SD4d066ilrI/AAAAAAAAA0c/HBlg2gZbaOM/s1600-h/IMG_0691.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SD4d066ilrI/AAAAAAAAA0c/HBlg2gZbaOM/s320/IMG_0691.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205631014292068018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;i have quite possibly the strongest sweet tooth in the country.  or world.  the craving to have something painfully sweet after dinner is so strong i often leave my house all over again just to go get something.  example: you might see a little theme in my trash.  despite working hard in pilates, i have consumed about a billion fun-sized reese's cups tonight.  so bad but oh so good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-7742604073194605372?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/7742604073194605372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=7742604073194605372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7742604073194605372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7742604073194605372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/confession.html' title='Confession'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SD4d066ilrI/AAAAAAAAA0c/HBlg2gZbaOM/s72-c/IMG_0691.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-6461679249869555329</id><published>2008-05-28T15:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T15:50:01.218-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Night</title><content type='html'>him: "alright, i'm going to go plant my rutebega and head to bed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "um, ok..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-6461679249869555329?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/6461679249869555329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=6461679249869555329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/6461679249869555329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/6461679249869555329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/last-night.html' title='Last Night'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2140897767773367487</id><published>2008-05-27T23:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T23:45:46.492-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sculpted Plants!</title><content type='html'>i've been lusting after some topiaries at work now for about forever.  they went on markdown yesterday, and i got my additional 40% off of them, so though originally they were marked at $29.00 apiece, i got two for $9.00!  nothing makes me happier than a good deal.  a couple days ago i got three double-walled green glass votives for $1.89 as well.  this has been my week for bargains.  gotsta love home decor!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2140897767773367487?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2140897767773367487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2140897767773367487' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2140897767773367487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2140897767773367487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/sculpted-plants.html' title='Sculpted Plants!'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-3615696995931951569</id><published>2008-05-26T22:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T22:12:00.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hope No One is Looking Through My Window</title><content type='html'>because this is what they would see:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://z.about.com/d/pilates/1/5/g/-/-/-/SingleLegStrTwoImage400x400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://z.about.com/d/pilates/1/5/g/-/-/-/SingleLegStrTwoImage400x400.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;except, like, it would be me.  i have longer hair.  and cannot by any means get my legs that low during the single leg stretches.  working on it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-3615696995931951569?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/3615696995931951569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=3615696995931951569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3615696995931951569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3615696995931951569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-hope-no-one-is-looking-through-my.html' title='I Hope No One is Looking Through My Window'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-1589980996806312733</id><published>2008-05-25T22:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T22:42:37.485-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot Hot Heat</title><content type='html'>after all of my whining of winter cold and freezing freezingness, i will now commence whining about summer heat and its hot hotness.  for unexplainable reasons, kansas city frequently (i.e. every day from mid-may until october) experiences 100% humidity.  find me the body of water nearby that causes this.  regardless, i slept with my window open last night only to awaken to my sheet plastered to me and my body at my bed's edge, gravitating to my little bedside fan as a flower to the sun.  and so begins the nights of no temperature drops.  we stay at a lovely 80 plus degrees despite the color of the sky all through the summer, which if you are unlucky to be without air conditioning (which THANKFULLY i am not) is totally miserable.  working in a store that depends on walk-by traffic also is interesting in this weather, as everyone comes in not to buy or even necessarily to look at our merchandise but rather to cool off.  makes a sales associate feel a little redundant.  anyway, i'm only on a whine-about-the-weather kick since i just did pilates (three days IN A ROW!  WOO!) and feel like my body temperature just skyrocketed into the triple digits.  shower time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-1589980996806312733?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/1589980996806312733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=1589980996806312733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1589980996806312733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1589980996806312733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/hot-hot-heat.html' title='Hot Hot Heat'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-9017900428302697546</id><published>2008-05-24T22:35:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T23:08:00.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day of Klutziness</title><content type='html'>today was just not my day.  i managed to make it to work unscathed, but instantly upon stepping out of my car began jostling my piping hot tall starbucks pike place roast coffee on to my hand (1/2 an inch of half &amp; half, 3 splenda).  i elegantly tried to lick it off as i walked juggling my car keys, coffee, and massively wonderful purse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a few hours later, as i hurriedly tried to secure some information for a customer, i somehow managed to scrape the top of my foot (enough to tear the skin) on the bottom of a cabinet door.  i valiantly soldiered on through the day with a big pink stripe across the top of my foot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fast forward to cooking dinner.  as i waited for my chicken to bake, i decided to wash the dishes.  i set to work with my handy dandy scrubber brush from walgreen's.  scrub, scrub, scrub, and slice! i cut my own thumb with my own fingernail...in my apparent fervor to scrub that food off of that pot, i was gripping the brush so hard i dug my own nail into my own little thumb.  i bled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;still waiting for my chicken to bake i headed to my room to change to more comfy clothes.  i could not wait to slip into my trusty yoga capri sweat pant things after a long day in BR chinos.  taking them into my bathroom to change, i manage to dip them into my (clean) toilet.  lovely.  abandoned those in a hurry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this was my day.  good thing i am not a welder, a construction worker, or a haz-mat person.  i would probably be dead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-9017900428302697546?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/9017900428302697546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=9017900428302697546' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/9017900428302697546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/9017900428302697546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-of-klutziness.html' title='Day of Klutziness'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-5365037812707924128</id><published>2008-05-23T21:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T21:52:39.787-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back In the Grind</title><content type='html'>i think i'm finally on a real road to recovery (FRANTICALLY KNOCKING ON WOOD).  i have no days off in the foreseeable future, and i do not feel tired and shaky at the thought.  also of note, i just did pilates for a half an hour.  i &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;am &lt;/span&gt;feeling shaky at that - due to muscle fatigue though, not sickness.  pilates will kick. your. ass.  try doing all those tiny movements without crying.  i did the core and thigh workouts, and plan on doing so every day for the next month plus before heading to the beach for the fourth.  goal: not feeling like a flat blob in a bikini.  keep me accountable, interweb people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-5365037812707924128?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/5365037812707924128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=5365037812707924128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5365037812707924128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5365037812707924128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/back-in-grind.html' title='Back In the Grind'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-8564583857993628811</id><published>2008-05-22T22:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T22:45:31.271-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunny Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SDY81q6ilpI/AAAAAAAAAzc/_LmPs18_mZM/s1600-h/IMG_1701.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SDY81q6ilpI/AAAAAAAAAzc/_LmPs18_mZM/s320/IMG_1701.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203413312223745682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;clinging to this gorgeous day in my brain as it rained today.  but even if it were sunny again, it wouldn't be quite the same - he's not here to take that picture of me, to walk the entire kansas city zoo (even africa) with me, to sit with me at starbucks with frothy cold drinks to do the crossword, to give me a kiss on the forehead.  so instead i will just meditate back into that day when times here are less than stellar.  clinging on.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SDY9y66ilqI/AAAAAAAAAzk/4V1W0A7NzYM/s1600-h/n50100965_31165753_9585.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SDY9y66ilqI/AAAAAAAAAzk/4V1W0A7NzYM/s320/n50100965_31165753_9585.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203414364490733218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-8564583857993628811?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/8564583857993628811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=8564583857993628811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8564583857993628811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8564583857993628811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/sunny-days.html' title='Sunny Days'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SDY81q6ilpI/AAAAAAAAAzc/_LmPs18_mZM/s72-c/IMG_1701.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2376367108906964959</id><published>2008-05-20T20:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T20:06:40.470-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend Leftovers</title><content type='html'>what i have left of this weekend with my reverend:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- a HUGE pile of clothes on my floor, accumulated as a result of my unwillingness to waste time on cleaning when i can be having fun with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- 2 men's dress shirts, one pair of men's dress pants (brown).  now taking monetary offers...just kidding, i also have a box now to ship them out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- 5 wire hangers.  they stand out, as i am anal and have all wooden hangers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- one prescription antibiotic for acute bronchitis.  one bottle of mucinex.  these are mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- a raging sunburn across my shoulders and upper back, but happy memories of the zoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- raggedy nailpolish, again as a result of not wanting to waste time on my nails when i could be playing a game of scrabble or shooting a round of pool with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- zero pictures.  he took them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- a million pounds of heartache that yet another perfect weekend had to end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2376367108906964959?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2376367108906964959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2376367108906964959' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2376367108906964959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2376367108906964959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/weekend-leftovers.html' title='Weekend Leftovers'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2214165685492298844</id><published>2008-05-15T20:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T20:57:16.418-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want</title><content type='html'>i want to start a vegetable garden, and work outside on it in possibly a stylish floppy hat while my reverend mows the yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to get the new &lt;a href="http://www.potterybarn.com/products/p10477/index.cfm?pkey=coutseaclo"&gt;pottery barn outdoor chairs&lt;/a&gt; and lounge in them to tan my legs while sipping on an amaretto sour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to make an arugula salad with shaved aged parmesan and a squeezed lemon juice and olive oil dressing with marinated grilled steak on the side.  i want to eat it at my dining table with my reverend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to be not sick anymore.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to be tanned, in some healthy way that still somehow involves falling asleep in the sun next to a pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to find the perfect 1922 bungalow with a large stone front porch, arched doorways, built-ins galore, and the hottest modern kitchen you've ever seen.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to find a pair of heels that are actually, legitimately comfortable.  for under $700.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to be in &lt;a href="http://yourneighborhoodreverend.blogspot.com"&gt;his &lt;/a&gt;arms.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2214165685492298844?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2214165685492298844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2214165685492298844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2214165685492298844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2214165685492298844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-want.html' title='I Want'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-368023004741185870</id><published>2008-05-14T22:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T22:19:14.269-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Toy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.google.com/url?q=http://www.phonearea.net/wp-content/themes/default/pictures/lg/2007/q3/lg_chocolate.jpg&amp;usg=AFQjCNGudZeC4DLNNS_8gougpbBHLFOvZQ"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://images.google.com/url?q=http://www.phonearea.net/wp-content/themes/default/pictures/lg/2007/q3/lg_chocolate.jpg&amp;usg=AFQjCNGudZeC4DLNNS_8gougpbBHLFOvZQ" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;i got this little piece of sweetness last week.  i had been in a sort of awkward joint phone contract situation that i was able to extricate myself from, and i returned to my cell phone roots by going back to verizon.  doesn't hurt that that is the reverend's company of choice and by doing so i would be enabling us to talk, text, and message for free and endlessly.  then it came time to pick out a phone.  i have always been one to pick out the free phone that is crummy and basic but will hold a phone charge for about 64 days since it does nothing else.  but then, i fell in love.  she's an LG chocolate in black cherry (to match my purse, much to the hilarity of the verizon sales force), she slides open and closed, she has a camera, and when shut is very ipod reminiscent in her aesthetic.  sleek and smooth and gorgeous.  she is my first truly grown up swanky phone, and i LOVE it.  not to mention that i have commenced texting pete approximately every three minutes, just with the word "FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" and he has done the same.  it is a thrill that can not be captured in words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-368023004741185870?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/368023004741185870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=368023004741185870' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/368023004741185870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/368023004741185870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/new-toy.html' title='New Toy'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2768767862940459160</id><published>2008-05-13T23:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T23:38:20.929-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One Night Left</title><content type='html'>it was our last night in rome.  it was cold, january, and got dark early on in the night.  desperate to absorb every iota of the city into our skin before being torn from the place, my friends and i set out to visit all of our favorite tourist hot spots.  we hit the trevi fountain, the pantheon, the monument to vittorio emmanuele, a gelato store.  but there was one place that we reserved for last, one place that we had visited over and over, where we had sat outside on a stone wall eating fresh panini and watching asian couples get their wedding photos taken.  and when we got to to il colosseo, it was after midnight and as the air got crisper we became more aware that our time in italy was over.  and i walked to the grass lawn across from that monument that everyone knows, laid down on my back, and stared up at the tan edge of the crumbling stone etched across the deep black sky.  and this is a moment i have trapped in my memory, the feel of the air, how i scooped my coat's hood under my head as a cushion, how i had such wonderful and new friends around me, the bittersweetness, the awesomeness of the history, and the smell of centuries-old stone.  i miss it, still.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SCpso-I0c3I/AAAAAAAAAzU/YwCmiMdt-qM/s1600-h/il+colosseo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SCpso-I0c3I/AAAAAAAAAzU/YwCmiMdt-qM/s320/il+colosseo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200088170883216242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2768767862940459160?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2768767862940459160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2768767862940459160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2768767862940459160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2768767862940459160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/one-night-left.html' title='One Night Left'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SCpso-I0c3I/AAAAAAAAAzU/YwCmiMdt-qM/s72-c/il+colosseo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2714307971552333190</id><published>2008-05-12T22:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T22:33:53.259-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sucked In</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com"&gt;etsy&lt;/a&gt; has taken over my night.  i am 154 pages into the ring section of jewelry, and really no end in sight.  i clicked through them all through the hills finale.  and still am.  i consider it a strength of mine that i have not yet bought a thing.  so i'm internet window shopping.  harmless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2714307971552333190?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2714307971552333190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2714307971552333190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2714307971552333190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2714307971552333190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/sucked-in.html' title='Sucked In'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-776301811766356304</id><published>2008-05-10T22:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T22:58:58.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One!</title><content type='html'>today was my nephew brayden's first birthday.  i had to work, but afterward went to my mom's house for a birthday party for him with my immediate family and my sister's in-laws (which translates to about 5 other kids 18 and younger).  this means i walked into chaos.  after pizza and presents, brayden got his own personal cake to destroy:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SCZuLXozkYI/AAAAAAAAAys/5IRHjY7AdNg/s1600-h/IMG_0655.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SCZuLXozkYI/AAAAAAAAAys/5IRHjY7AdNg/s320/IMG_0655.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198963961448599938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;after all that total insanity of what seemed to be 37 kids running around and screaming and crying and icing flying and tissue paper crinkling underfoot and sugar highs and full pizza stomach lows, this is where i want to be:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SCZu6XozkZI/AAAAAAAAAy0/m7UOIVO8Cik/s1600-h/0510082239.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SCZu6XozkZI/AAAAAAAAAy0/m7UOIVO8Cik/s320/0510082239.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198964768902451602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;for about a week.  that should do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-776301811766356304?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/776301811766356304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=776301811766356304' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/776301811766356304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/776301811766356304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/one.html' title='One!'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SCZuLXozkYI/AAAAAAAAAys/5IRHjY7AdNg/s72-c/IMG_0655.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-6446067252029524471</id><published>2008-05-08T22:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T22:41:02.391-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot Lap</title><content type='html'>my computer gets hot.  i have taken to sitting it on its side, teepee style, to better vent.  otherwise the hot hot heat of the engine or mouse in a wheel or whatever it is that runs this thing goes straight into my thighs, where it travels north to my cheeks.  for some reason these are the only two places i get overheated due to the computer: thighs and cheeks.  not those cheeks.  the ones on my face.  time to go teepee style to vent for a bit.  computer: so hot right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-6446067252029524471?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/6446067252029524471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=6446067252029524471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/6446067252029524471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/6446067252029524471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/hot-lap.html' title='Hot Lap'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-7535653128437703720</id><published>2008-05-08T00:00:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T00:07:01.667-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Links!  They Move!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b835193b4d6562eb" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db835193b4d6562eb%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331465016%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5E7B15B0EC92DEEF90270A6FDE591BB62388FE13.385A12C93EC8B9BBC6B124FC70A25C685FB9AC0C%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db835193b4d6562eb%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DmzfZNH4bSQsnPqLh2onGd9De7cY&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db835193b4d6562eb%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331465016%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5E7B15B0EC92DEEF90270A6FDE591BB62388FE13.385A12C93EC8B9BBC6B124FC70A25C685FB9AC0C%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db835193b4d6562eb%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DmzfZNH4bSQsnPqLh2onGd9De7cY&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;phone rings.  "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"  he finally separated the links!  pete has been handcarving these links, out of one piece of wood, for a while now and finally got the links to move independently, as you can see.  he is rather excited.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, he approves this message.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-7535653128437703720?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=b835193b4d6562eb&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/7535653128437703720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=7535653128437703720' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7535653128437703720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7535653128437703720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/links-they-move.html' title='The Links!  They Move!'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-1522194683352304037</id><published>2008-05-06T23:41:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T23:43:32.134-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye, Shudder</title><content type='html'>ever since i bought my car in november of 2006, it has had an increasingly dramatic shudder as i brake.  especially dramatic at high speeds, which is quite reassuring on the highway to memphis in the middle of nowhere, mo.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today, i got my rotors replaned and new brake pads and shoes.  (thank you, government-issued rebate.  could i BE more practical?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the shudder, it is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm almost more scared without it, it has been my constant companion for so long.  it is eerily smooth and silent coming to a stop off of a highway exit now.  i think, though, that i can live with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-1522194683352304037?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/1522194683352304037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=1522194683352304037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1522194683352304037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1522194683352304037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/goodbye-shudder.html' title='Goodbye, Shudder'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-4881295172979200297</id><published>2008-05-05T21:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T21:40:52.596-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More Materialistic</title><content type='html'>in a shift from the previous post in which i endorsed items that are within my means and bring me joy, i will now feature some products that i lust after and will consequently reveal my truly materialistic nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i3.iofferphoto.com/img/item/218/582/27/PLEASE_RETURN_TO_TIFFANY_&amp;_CO_ROUND_TAG_BRACELET.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i3.iofferphoto.com/img/item/218/582/27/PLEASE_RETURN_TO_TIFFANY_&amp;_CO_ROUND_TAG_BRACELET.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;i want a tiffany's bracelet.  i'll admit it.  i like the shiny jingliness of it.  i like the round tag.  i like the label.  and i feel like i should feel like a bad person for wanting one, but you know what?  i don't.  quality silver is an investment right now, since silver prices are shooting up, and it's an adorable piece that holds its value.  so shoot me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SB_DQgX5mEI/AAAAAAAAAyM/pGBtdMLReV8/s1600-h/kacamata.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SB_DQgX5mEI/AAAAAAAAAyM/pGBtdMLReV8/s320/kacamata.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197087183344343106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;oversized chanel sunglasses.  i like the double C, the oversizedness, the mystique going back to the days of our first lady of camelot, jackie O.  total glam.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i2.iofferphoto.com/img/item/450/759/46/o_8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i2.iofferphoto.com/img/item/450/759/46/o_8.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;christian louboutin black classic platform heels.  my other two things would be splurges, these will be what i buy when i win the lottery.  from what i've seen and heard, louboutin heels are made out of fairy dust and magic.  they actually don't hurt to walk in, or so people say.  plus they are hotttt with an infinity of extra t's.  the rev loves me in heels too so i'd get some use out of these.  and when i say use, they will have to disintegrate off of my feet.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;notice that i put no prices on these.  they range from $200 to uhhh a lot.  look for me to own them in the next ten years.  i have very lofty goals that are not only intellectual but also do good things for the world, too.  ok i'm a bad person.  i'll go volunteer somewhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-4881295172979200297?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/4881295172979200297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=4881295172979200297' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/4881295172979200297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/4881295172979200297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/more-materialistic.html' title='More Materialistic'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SB_DQgX5mEI/AAAAAAAAAyM/pGBtdMLReV8/s72-c/kacamata.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-658782055823629149</id><published>2008-05-04T21:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T21:52:11.883-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Endorsements</title><content type='html'>so whenever i see product endorsements on other blogs it's always like cool, indie products that are all botanical, with quirky titles, fun packaging, and can only be ordered online directly from a small island west of turks and caicos where the natives package them in banana leaves.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am not this cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i endorse the following products for bringing me happiness year round and costing less than $47/ounce:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/28/Reeses_Peanut_Butter_Cups.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/28/Reeses_Peanut_Butter_Cups.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;reese's peanut butter cups.  only acceptable in classic form and fun-sized.  no pieces or whips or white chocolate allowed.  can be found: EVERYWHERE.  cost: $0.33 - $0.75 depending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://di1.shopping.com/images1/pi/a6/9c/41/23574901-177x150-0-0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://di1.shopping.com/images1/pi/a6/9c/41/23574901-177x150-0-0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;cover girl eyeliner in a dark brown.  creamy, goes on smoothly, lasts forever.  can be found: every major drugstore in america.  cost: about $4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.bedbathandbeyond.com/assets/product_images/230/51323106857C.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.bedbathandbeyond.com/assets/product_images/230/51323106857C.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;serasoft oversized throw blankets.  so good i got one for myself and one in blue for the reverend.  so good our apartment cat, bowser, snuggles into it every chance he gets.  and it is so damn warm and snuggly.  can be found: bed, bath &amp; beyond.  cost: about $20.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;conclusions to be drawn from my endorsements: i am easily pleased; i am cheap; i don't look super hard for ritzy products; i find lots of pleasure in lots of little things.  decide on your own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-658782055823629149?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/658782055823629149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=658782055823629149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/658782055823629149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/658782055823629149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/endorsements.html' title='Endorsements'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-3510795015714937074</id><published>2008-05-03T20:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T20:35:13.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Have Nothing</title><content type='html'>nothing to discuss here.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm just going to go ahead and help out &lt;a href="http://yourneighborhoodreverend.blogspot.com"&gt;the reverend&lt;/a&gt; in his eternal quest to become the biggest blog slut on the planet and say, go read his &lt;a href="http://yourneighborhoodreverend.blogspot.com/2008/05/perhaps-at-dollar-store.html"&gt;new post&lt;/a&gt;!  &lt;a href="http://www.fuelmyblog.com"&gt;fuel him!&lt;/a&gt;  tell him how much you love him in &lt;a href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4875149036378660179&amp;postID=8772573302847914673"&gt;the comments&lt;/a&gt;!  because really, nothing makes him happier.  seriously.  he calls me with every new comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not to mention, he's an excellent writer and it's fun to read him, every time.  so go back to &lt;a href="http://yourneighborhoodreverend.blogspot.com"&gt;his page&lt;/a&gt; (since most of you came there from here) and tell him so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pete, you're welcome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-3510795015714937074?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/3510795015714937074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=3510795015714937074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3510795015714937074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3510795015714937074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-have-nothing.html' title='I Have Nothing'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2701336123214287041</id><published>2008-05-02T22:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T22:34:33.568-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Steichen</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://aic.stanford.edu/jaic/img/jaic34-01-001-fig003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://aic.stanford.edu/jaic/img/jaic34-01-001-fig003.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;i love edward steichen's work.  i flipped through a new monograph that we carry in our store last night and today and it is GORGEOUS.  just sharing him with the world in case you've never heard of him.  google it.  also, on an art historical note, steichen's self-portrait above was an attempt to justify photography as an art medium by portraying himself as the typical artist and applying brushwork to the rough print to ally his work more closely with what people of the time considered high art.  so, there's your nerdy moment for the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2701336123214287041?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2701336123214287041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2701336123214287041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2701336123214287041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2701336123214287041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-love-edward-steichens-work.html' title='Steichen'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-3541755542077742462</id><published>2008-05-01T22:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T22:23:57.278-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Makez Me Laffs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SBqJQgX5mDI/AAAAAAAAAxo/W-g1L_WXKJI/s1600-h/funny-pictures-orange-cat-human-impression.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SBqJQgX5mDI/AAAAAAAAAxo/W-g1L_WXKJI/s320/funny-pictures-orange-cat-human-impression.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195616036786378802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;for some reason i can't stop laughing at this.  i am tearing up.  maybe it's because i haven't had coffee in weeks and so i feel like my face might permanently resemble this.  or maybe it's because i took this picture of pete pre-coffee and it brings back memories:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SBqI9wX5mCI/AAAAAAAAAxg/RBSFcooj53I/s1600-h/IMG_0081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SBqI9wX5mCI/AAAAAAAAAxg/RBSFcooj53I/s320/IMG_0081.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195615714663831586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-3541755542077742462?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/3541755542077742462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=3541755542077742462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3541755542077742462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3541755542077742462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/05/makez-me-laffs.html' title='Makez Me Laffs'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SBqJQgX5mDI/AAAAAAAAAxo/W-g1L_WXKJI/s72-c/funny-pictures-orange-cat-human-impression.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-35050873545656838</id><published>2008-04-30T22:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T23:01:12.024-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cash Money</title><content type='html'>i am compulsively checking my bank account to see if my government-issued rebate has shown up yet.  how about now.  how about now.  now?  any time guys.  any time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-35050873545656838?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/35050873545656838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=35050873545656838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/35050873545656838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/35050873545656838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/cash-money.html' title='Cash Money'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-8403636347312153021</id><published>2008-04-29T23:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T00:05:55.897-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Portrait</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SBf7rwX5mBI/AAAAAAAAAxY/MqdNpWOe99M/s1600-h/collage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SBf7rwX5mBI/AAAAAAAAAxY/MqdNpWOe99M/s320/collage.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194897424333248530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;so about once a week for months now i have received these.  quickly snapped portraits, often on his camera phone, at all times of day, in all moods, in all poses, with all different expressions.  i have probably 75 of these in a file called pete pictures, and i figured i could go ahead and share those with you who have either a. trickled over from his site and are curious what the rev looks like or b. know me, know him or of him, and just are entertained that he takes lots of self portraits.  enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;editor's note: i have 146 of these portraits.  146.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-8403636347312153021?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/8403636347312153021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=8403636347312153021' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8403636347312153021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8403636347312153021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/portrait.html' title='A Portrait'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SBf7rwX5mBI/AAAAAAAAAxY/MqdNpWOe99M/s72-c/collage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2916543755478544979</id><published>2008-04-27T22:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T22:25:46.687-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Dragging</title><content type='html'>The Mono is a wily one.  i think i'm pretty much back in the game, despite a ninth-inning stomach virus, i work for a few hours, and i feel like i need scaffolding to keep my eyes up.  because scanning jewelry all day is really so tiring physically.  lame.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2916543755478544979?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2916543755478544979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2916543755478544979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2916543755478544979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2916543755478544979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/still-dragging.html' title='Still Dragging'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-1361133005496213517</id><published>2008-04-27T00:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T00:41:31.607-05:00</updated><title type='text'>From the Archives</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SBQQiQX5mAI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/e29OKZ4HfH4/s1600-h/dancing+katie+nov+04.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SBQQiQX5mAI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/e29OKZ4HfH4/s320/dancing+katie+nov+04.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193794450961831938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;embarrassing picture # 8437 of me, aired out as a means of filler-when-there's-nothing-much-going-on.  this is from november 2004, according to my records, and has a reason.  i promise.  i, with some classmates, began a campaign to make my fellow wellesley students recapture that essential pause in our day - lunch - with a little fun.  i had had too much of girls studying aggressively in the dining hall, their glares for my loud laughter, and people snapping from pressure.  and thus began severance fun lunch.  they were themed lunches, sometimes one day a week, sometimes for a full week blowout extravaganza, complete with VIP guests (the president of the college, favorite professors, etc.), performances, mini-classes, wall-to-wall decorations, candy, themed food from the dining hall, themed loud music, and, quite often, extremely embarrassing actions by yours truly.  reference: the above.  it was a hip hop themed fun lunch, and i went all out.  i am totally from the streets, as you can see by my artfully flipped visor and strategically placed sweat band.  that is how they dress on the streets these days, right?  i'm down.  anyway, by and large fun lunches were a hit, broke up the monotony of studystudystudy, and gave me a good reason to break out into costume.  i miss them.  maybe i could get my work to have them?  something in me says no.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-1361133005496213517?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/1361133005496213517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=1361133005496213517' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1361133005496213517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1361133005496213517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/from-archives.html' title='From the Archives'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SBQQiQX5mAI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/e29OKZ4HfH4/s72-c/dancing+katie+nov+04.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-4377883876527521681</id><published>2008-04-25T21:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T21:27:47.824-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired</title><content type='html'>there are several ingredients that contribute to my having a good, solid, blissful sleep.  i am one of those total darkness total silence sort of sleepers.  i have not one but two black-out curtains on my windows.  i unplugged and put away my bedside clock, too sick of its blaringly neon green numbers glowing in my face.  yet there is one ingredient that is close to essential, one that i did not realize until last night i had been missing of late - cold.  i sleep fitfully in any level of warmth.  i must be under covers, yet if i get too warm i get restless and unable to fall into deep sleep.  this morning, though, found me virtually unable to get out of bed from the sheer luxury of being wonderfully cozy under my comforter with a cool breeze wafting over me from my open window.  i slept so much harder, so much deeper, with this coolness than i have in probably weeks.  the only thing that would have made it better would be a full-on thunderstorm raging outside.  i probably would still be asleep, in that case.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-4377883876527521681?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/4377883876527521681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=4377883876527521681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/4377883876527521681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/4377883876527521681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/tired.html' title='Tired'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2049863844833568796</id><published>2008-04-24T23:17:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T23:24:14.175-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Serenades</title><content type='html'>i frequently get serenaded.  rarely in person, though when it is in person it's usually more via a strummed guitar, like so:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SBFbwAX5l_I/AAAAAAAAAxI/X70TNOaTvFQ/s1600-h/IMG_0606.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SBFbwAX5l_I/AAAAAAAAAxI/X70TNOaTvFQ/s320/IMG_0606.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193032725626984434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;when it is not in person, which is more frequent, i get a phone call of a man blasting into full song.  sometimes it's goofy.  more often it's sweet, and i'm going to selfishly keep those to myself.  for now, i will share with you that i often call pete puffin, stolen from the illustrious tv show "the girls next door" and what one of the girls calls hugh hefner.  tonight i got:&lt;br /&gt;"DO YOU KNOW THE PUFFIN MAN, THE PUFFIN MAN, THE PUFFIN MAANNNN?&lt;br /&gt; DO YOU KNOW THE PUFFIN MAN, WHO LIVES ON SHELBY AAAAVVVVEEE?&lt;br /&gt; DO YOU KNOW THE PUFFIN MAN, THE PUFFIN MAN, THE PUuuhuhhuhh hahahahaha"&lt;br /&gt;and that's where it devolved into giggling.  he brought it back later in the phone call.  but was still thoroughly unable to stop laughing.  ME EITHER.  me either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2049863844833568796?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2049863844833568796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2049863844833568796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2049863844833568796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2049863844833568796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/sweet-serenades.html' title='Sweet Serenades'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SBFbwAX5l_I/AAAAAAAAAxI/X70TNOaTvFQ/s72-c/IMG_0606.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-3150925008172185029</id><published>2008-04-23T15:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T15:53:36.092-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking My Tattoo To Heart</title><content type='html'>the silver lining of the past few days:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- at least i didn't feel this atrocious while i was in memphis for pete's birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- good thing my toilet is four leaps from my bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- my bed is soft and comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- the weather seems nice outside, as viewed through my window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- my roommate got me ginger ale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- my mom got me food and juice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- maalox gets better tasting the more you need it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- i managed to stand long enough to take a shower last night and finally feel clean-ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- this virus has to end at some point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-3150925008172185029?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/3150925008172185029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=3150925008172185029' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3150925008172185029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3150925008172185029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/taking-my-tattoo-to-heart.html' title='Taking My Tattoo To Heart'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-6614849495246946557</id><published>2008-04-20T23:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T00:37:58.230-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrapping Up</title><content type='html'>the rest of our weekend together was rather uneventful.  ill for a large portion of sunday, i reverted to my classic feel possibly better but at least not worse strategy: freeze.  i sat completely immobile in bed until i finally felt stable enough, with the support of a packet of melba toast, to take a shower and move through the world.  pete and i went to spend his macy's gift card on a flashy new fossil watch, then out for a birthday dinner at macaroni grill with his family.  i was fading in and out in terms of strength until the arugula and steak salad i ate stepped in and helped out.  the rest of the night was spent watching tv with his roommates and relaxing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;monday saw pete waking up early to go to work.  it saw me passed out cold til 2 pm.  then, being the obsessive compulsive that i am, i packed everything up perfectly, cleaned pete's room, and even (to his dismay, at my apparent destruction of some important receipts) did some laundry.  i repainted my nails and passed some time watching tv.  dinner was eaten out at a vietnamese restaurant - pete's first foray into the culture.  his dinner turned out to be just at the threshold of spicyenoughtocausepain, though i think it may have crossed over since he downed about 4 glasses of water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then, a very repetitive story on this boring blog, i had to leave him.  he stood in line with me at greyhound until i was literally on the boarding "dock" (p.s. why does greyhound fancy themselves a shipping line that docks and boards and apparently sails forth smoothly).  while i say he stood with me, i mean that he stood there with mouth agape at all of these wonderful people-watching opportunities that just happened upon him.  i got his attention enough for a kiss goodbye, and then i boarded my ship.  bus.  whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this was quite the ride back.  i left memphis at 7:45 pm, scheduled to arrive in kansas city at 5:30 am.  this bus was packed, and i unfortunately had seatmates the entire trip.  the worst one was from jackson, mo, to st. louis, mo, as she decided that no rules applied to her and she would spend the entire two hours discussing with her friend delores, in her wheezy, smoker-tinged voice, all of the men that she is currently playing off of each other.  the guy she had kissed goodbye and waved to as we pulled away from jackson apparently told her he loved her, and she said the same, but delores now knows that we're not sure if that's the truth and we're going to all be waiting til the end of the month to find out how she still feels.  in the meantime she's going to go to olympia (washington?  i'm not sure) to see steve, who paid for her ticket, and who she ALSO called en route.  he told her he had a big b*ner waiting for her.  cute.  and then there's mike, in illinois, who has a pool.  and jim, in olympia the same as steve, who has a SWEET tv.  i am blown away by the fact that gruff, blowsy, smarmy women like this can wrap all these men around their fingers, making them give them things and money and who knows what else i certainly don't want to know, while many wonderful, intelligent, gorgeous women i know are left with no guys.  disgusting.  plus, she elbowed me in the side to find out when we were due in st. louis, and once i told her 12:45 am she commenced to loudly tell everyone she spoke with that we were due in at 12:15.  whatever.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thank you jesus, i was not seated next to her on my ride from st. louis to kansas city.  no thanks to anyone, i was seated in the aisle, with nothing to rest my head upon to sleep.  commence horrendously unattractive sleeping with mouth wide open, head tilted back, and weird nasal passage semi-snoring.  until such a time that some ASSWIPE, or sorry, assw*pe, decided to SMOKE a CIGARETTE on the BUS which is an ENCLOSED CONTAINER with NO VENTILATION.  I HATE THIS PERSON.  and will forever.  i arrived in kansas city on time, reeking of smoke.  a friend gave me a ride home, and i promptly passed back out til later in the day.  what a trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-6614849495246946557?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/6614849495246946557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=6614849495246946557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/6614849495246946557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/6614849495246946557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/wrapping-up.html' title='Wrapping Up'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-5415959723635639388</id><published>2008-04-19T23:11:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T23:34:56.449-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cuh See No</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SArHSEFTqGI/AAAAAAAAAww/H7vNRWvjsAo/s1600-h/n50100965_31110365_2492.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SArHSEFTqGI/AAAAAAAAAww/H7vNRWvjsAo/s320/n50100965_31110365_2492.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191180633645492322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after much slightly inebriated confusion, we finally got everyone loaded into the van and rolled out.  after more inebriated confusion, we selected a casino in tunica to actually go to.  forty minutes and we were one happy group sprinting into a casino with one objective: bathrooms.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SArHYUFTqHI/AAAAAAAAAw4/LcDk2t4lOcY/s1600-h/n50100965_31110368_3393.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SArHYUFTqHI/AAAAAAAAAw4/LcDk2t4lOcY/s320/n50100965_31110368_3393.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191180741019674738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;now we were ready to gamble.  i did not bring a single dollar in cash with me.  i very much intended to not gamble a dime, and i didn't - at least of my own money.  we hit it big with $3 of pete's in a quarter slot machine, cleaning up with $24.  as the night wound on, we managed to lose all of that.  and then more.  i blew a dollar of pete's and a dollar of his friend lauren's at nickel slots and declared myself officially unlucky.  i became a slightly better lucky charm at the blackjack table for pete.  we were stowing away $5 chips, til we landed at a bad table and walked out of the night with $4 in chips.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SArHq0FTqII/AAAAAAAAAxA/8z0DbfipIMM/s1600-h/n50100965_31110371_4329.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SArHq0FTqII/AAAAAAAAAxA/8z0DbfipIMM/s320/n50100965_31110371_4329.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191181058847254658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;we cashed out at around 2:15 a.m. and pete worked his magic with a very large, very intimidating pit boss to get us comped food at the cafe.  we got comped enough for two meals, despite the fact that, oddly, i was not in the mood for a large meal at 2:30 in the morning.  a group of us sat down in the atrium cafe there and they all stuffed themselves, boys being boys and not caring what time of day it is for a huge raw bloody steak or some pretty foul looking pulled pork nachos.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;three a.m. arrived and it was time for the ride back to memphis.  generously, we tipped our increasingly patient driver with a cheeseburger and fries.  we didn't get home til four.  on top of The Mono, cooking all day, partying all night, and coming home to a freezing house, the late hour knocked me for quite a loop.  i was out until literally 4 p.m. the next day, awake off and on with waves of general illness.  it was worth it, though, since the party went over hugely and everyone had a blast.  you always know a party's a success when you wake up to pee the next morning and walk through a living room littered with happily snoozing bodies, food remnants, many beer cans, and later, people pulling out the refrigerated remains to revisit the snacks of the day.  the rev certainly turned 24 (74?  91?) with a bang!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-5415959723635639388?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/5415959723635639388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=5415959723635639388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5415959723635639388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5415959723635639388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/cuh-see-no.html' title='Cuh See No'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SArHSEFTqGI/AAAAAAAAAww/H7vNRWvjsAo/s72-c/n50100965_31110365_2492.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-489628921493313046</id><published>2008-04-18T23:11:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T23:13:35.422-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving On</title><content type='html'>got caught up in conversation with the reverend two nights back.  then last night as i was in the midst of writing this, my internet connection went out and i gave up and went to bed.  someday i'll get back in the groove of posting every day.  someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SAlxTJH5n3I/AAAAAAAAAwo/KtSitzxaWxY/s1600-h/becrowned.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SAlxTJH5n3I/AAAAAAAAAwo/KtSitzxaWxY/s320/becrowned.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190804619201716082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;so back to the weekend.  i woke up to birthday day with pete laying in bed, fists clenched and thrust skyward despite closed eyes, smirk on his face, croaking out "24!"  the first thing he wanted to do?  get the computer out and see how many facebook birthday wish wall posts he'd received.  i then proposed a trip to the bagel company for eggels and coffee, which went over well.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after brunch, it was shopping time.  we hit up walmart for supplies, filled a cart, and headed home to get preparations going for the afternoon cookout.  feeling a little droopy from The Mono, i pulled a chair up to the kitchen table and got to cooking.  a two-layer red velvet sheet cake with white frosting, fresh pico de gallo, fresh guacamole, seven layer dip, and 40 jalapeno poppers later, i was left with a whole mess of food and a hell of a capsaicin burn on my hands.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SAlva5H5n0I/AAAAAAAAAwQ/ZYzsDVG6C30/s1600-h/spread.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SAlva5H5n0I/AAAAAAAAAwQ/ZYzsDVG6C30/s320/spread.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190802553322446658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;having to get ready for the party, i wrapped my hands in tanktops to apply eye makeup and avoid permanent damage to my eyes, all the while whimpering at the pain.  i actually felt nauseous it hurt so badly.  seeing the glimmer of approaching tears in my eyes pete took pity on me and began googling remedies.  we tried smearing vegetable oil on my hands.  twice.  we tried a combination of bleach and water as a soak.  we tried good old soap and water.  nothing doing.  finally, pete and his friend gray ran to the gas station and got me ice cold fatty vitamin D milk.  as the party began and friends started trickling in, i sat down in the middle of the living room and dunked my hands into hypothermic-inducing milk in a bubba keg.  way to make a first acquaintance.  BUT.  IT.  WORKED.  instantly.  no more fire on my hands, and i was able to actually enjoy life again.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SAlviJH5n1I/AAAAAAAAAwY/Okg7YD18rb0/s1600-h/cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SAlviJH5n1I/AAAAAAAAAwY/Okg7YD18rb0/s320/cake.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190802677876498258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and so we barbecued.  and bocce-d.  and some (ok all but me) drank.  and we sang happy birthday to the be-crowned birthday boy.  and we ate and ate and ate.  and then finally, ten o'clock arrived and so did our chauffeured van, waiting to whisk 14 of us off to tunica, ms, home of a jillion casinos.  i'm going to go ahead and split the tale off here.  i will regale you in the future of our time at the casino, and the rest of the weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-489628921493313046?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/489628921493313046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=489628921493313046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/489628921493313046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/489628921493313046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/moving-on.html' title='Moving On'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/SAlxTJH5n3I/AAAAAAAAAwo/KtSitzxaWxY/s72-c/becrowned.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-5036291664254616468</id><published>2008-04-15T23:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T23:37:47.861-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow</title><content type='html'>so, it's been a while.  once again it was for a reason - yet another trip to see &lt;a href="http://yourneighborhoodreverend.blogspot.com"&gt;my rev&lt;/a&gt; for his birthday.  this time, thanks to The Mono, i opted to take a chauffeured mode of transportation: the greyhound bus.  thursday, all day long, i rode the greyhound from kansas city to memphis through what were at times torrential downpours.  that equaled sleepy time for me, and i spent most of the trip dozing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i arrived to a sunny, warm memphis evening and pete bringing me a dozen pink roses.  i apparently foiled an elaborate plan to scream my name and film my arrival complete with  balloons and flowers flying and who knows what all else to embarrass me in front of a rather diverse bus station crowd.  maybe next time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we had a quiet couple of first nights - pete &amp; sam's italian food was in order for my first night, and it was every bit as good as pete had talked up.  especially their salad...i could go for more of that right now.  friday pete worked, so i luxuriated and slept in before we again went out for dinner, this time at los compadres for mexican.  again yummy, despite an extremely loud and annoying to all but themselves group of people the next table over.  we snagged some extra chips on the way out for the big party day that was forthcoming, which i will leave you hanging on - stay tuned for a whole mess of cooking, hunan hand, bocce ball, fire, slot machines, pit bosses, chauffeured vans, and late late nights.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-5036291664254616468?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/5036291664254616468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=5036291664254616468' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5036291664254616468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5036291664254616468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/wow.html' title='Wow'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2139878594690696825</id><published>2008-04-09T00:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T00:55:37.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dunzo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-kansas/Jayhawk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-kansas/Jayhawk.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, i lost my shiz when KU won.  i have evil thoughts of bringing the memphis boys some kleenex for their loss.  HA suckahz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other dunzo news, i am definitely done with this whole sitting-in-bed-all-the-livelong-day thing.  it was a nice luxury there for a couple days, but now i am ready to go train for a marathon rather than keep sitting here.  so dull.  you can only watch so many episodes of the first 48 without getting a little down.  i have redone my nails approximately 6 times in as many days.  i have walked all the way to the kitchen, and back.  i have made the executive decision to sleep that extra two hours.  i have, remarkably, showered (more than once).  the puzzling thing at this point is if the lethargy is from the mono itself or from just being constantly...lethargic.  guess i'll find out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2139878594690696825?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2139878594690696825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2139878594690696825' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2139878594690696825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2139878594690696825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/dunzo.html' title='Dunzo'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-473167865513951350</id><published>2008-04-07T00:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T00:44:08.496-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Delivery</title><content type='html'>i'm spoiled.  this time with food.  pete ordered me a small pizza for dinner tonight so in my mono-induced state i didn't have to deal with getting myself dinner.  i very happily sat on my bed with my original crust pepperoni and onion pizza and ate about half of it, maybe more, probably not less, and am now stuffed and content.  he knows my weak spots, this man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-473167865513951350?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/473167865513951350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=473167865513951350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/473167865513951350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/473167865513951350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/delivery.html' title='Delivery'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-964763804668406517</id><published>2008-04-05T23:22:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T23:27:21.641-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Much Tension!!</title><content type='html'>i cannot handle this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tonight i made the grave mistake of both watching the lord of the rings: two towers and tracking the KU vs. UNC (ihateroywilliamshe'satraitor) game score At The Same Time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i seriously almost hyperventilated, about 12 times.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now i have to wait til tomorrow night for the end of the trilogy, not that i don't know what happens but what if gondor just doesn't show up?  what will sauron's retribution be?  will gollum kill frodo and sam?  i don't rememberrrrrrrr ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but hey!  KU won!  killah.  i hope roy williams went into the locker room with his dejected team and just broke down bawling in front of all of them.  this is what you get for abandoning the greatest basketball program in the country for some lame ass alma mater.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;up next: kansas kicking memphis' ass.  i'm putting a box of kleenex in the mail for pete and his roommates.  they'll need it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-964763804668406517?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/964763804668406517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=964763804668406517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/964763804668406517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/964763804668406517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/too-much-tension.html' title='Too Much Tension!!'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-5577777884886489163</id><published>2008-04-04T22:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T22:26:16.121-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Follow Up</title><content type='html'>to wrap up a couple stories i've started....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, i have mono.  no, it is not fun.  i basically feel like i've just been filled with sand.  i get tired rolling over in bed, and winded walking to the kitchen.  day by day it gets a bit better though, and i'm hoping for a solid step towards recovery by next weekend, since i'm due in memphis for pete's 74th birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my theft: my insurance has wonderfully decided to NOT cover my theft, thanks to some ridiculous clause in my renter's insurance contract.  so, that's great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just watched the first lord of the rings.  that movie keeps me on edge for the three solid hours or whatever it runs.  they almost die about every 3 minutes, with big thundering overtures and scary crazy orcs running around and demons of doom and mean wizards and all that.  not to mention the original bromance, frodo &amp; sam, tugging at my heartstrings.  i concluded, though, that i am definitely an elf.  i just have to learn elvish.  getting on that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-5577777884886489163?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/5577777884886489163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=5577777884886489163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5577777884886489163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5577777884886489163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/follow-up.html' title='Follow Up'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-6182696205356688776</id><published>2008-04-03T22:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T22:45:44.107-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I May Be Dating a 5-Year-Old</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;12:39 PM&lt;/span&gt; Pete: slumf?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;12:40 PM&lt;/span&gt; HEY&lt;br /&gt;  I'M SHOUTING&lt;br /&gt;  FROM ACROSS THE VROOM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;12:41 PM&lt;/span&gt; WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;12:44 PM&lt;/span&gt; haht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht haht haht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht hahthaht haht haht haht haht haht&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;12:46 PM&lt;/span&gt; fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah.  he calls me slumf.  what of it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-6182696205356688776?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/6182696205356688776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=6182696205356688776' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/6182696205356688776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/6182696205356688776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-may-be-dating-5-year-old.html' title='I May Be Dating a 5-Year-Old'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-5170505171083736064</id><published>2008-04-02T20:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T20:55:21.366-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Surround Sound</title><content type='html'>"blood work came back annnnnd....i have mono."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"always thought you were a stereo kinda gal.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i don't get it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"mono...stereo.  that's gold!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-5170505171083736064?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/5170505171083736064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=5170505171083736064' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5170505171083736064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5170505171083736064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/surround-sound.html' title='Surround Sound'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-7962486350482713742</id><published>2008-04-01T20:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T20:09:37.900-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Man, The Myth, The Legend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R_Lb_O63wmI/AAAAAAAAAvo/G-j5IQS5csc/s1600-h/0124081421.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R_Lb_O63wmI/AAAAAAAAAvo/G-j5IQS5csc/s320/0124081421.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184448000440124002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;from our summer camp yearbook, 8 years ago:  "Katie,&lt;br /&gt;My life's been &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;COMPLETELY&lt;/span&gt; changed from meeting you!  You're every guy's dream girl, except that you're mean as hell!  I hope you got a pic of me and Dan together, I know how you like that sorta thang...I wish you'd realized how in love with you I am earlier.  I'll miss you, definitely!  I LOVE YOU!  Keep in touch!&lt;br /&gt;- Pete"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-7962486350482713742?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/7962486350482713742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=7962486350482713742' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7962486350482713742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7962486350482713742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/04/man-myth-legend.html' title='The Man, The Myth, The Legend'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R_Lb_O63wmI/AAAAAAAAAvo/G-j5IQS5csc/s72-c/0124081421.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-7817519608404385321</id><published>2008-03-31T23:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T23:37:31.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R_G8Ae63wlI/AAAAAAAAAvg/AJJjrJIyLzQ/s1600-h/IMG_0565.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R_G8Ae63wlI/AAAAAAAAAvg/AJJjrJIyLzQ/s200/IMG_0565.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184131362566160978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we finally did go ahead and sleep in a tad on our last morning in st. louis.  we had worn ourselves out what with the eating and the walking and the being lovey dovey in public.  after showering and packing, we went and checked out of the hotel with our lovely hostess, shontelle, and headed out for another try at the brewery tour at anheuser-busch.  a bit nippy, but altogether fun, we did the whole tour, saw the clydesdales, tasted some beer (still thinking ew on the beer), and hit up a cafe for a yummy lunch.  the bobble head in pete came back out, so i'm pretty sure he liked his steak sandwich.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then came the time i absolutely least like: having to drive off in opposite directions, not to see one another for yet another few weeks.  at least we know that the next time we're together it'll be his 47th birthday, and it'll be party central on a bus to a casino - something to look forward to.  still, it's hard as always and of course i cried, because i am a lame-o girl.  but he always helps calm me down before the drive...or at least i pretend to be.  and so ends another trip together for biggz and smallz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-7817519608404385321?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/7817519608404385321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=7817519608404385321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7817519608404385321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7817519608404385321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/last-day.html' title='Last Day'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R_G8Ae63wlI/AAAAAAAAAvg/AJJjrJIyLzQ/s72-c/IMG_0565.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-478446461240229781</id><published>2008-03-31T00:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T00:18:10.751-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Upon Reading the Last Post</title><content type='html'>"lamb?!  they had lamb?  if i knew they had lamb i would've gotten it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"he said, 'prime rib?  lamb?'  you knew they had it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i thought he said, 'prime rib, my man?'"!!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-478446461240229781?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/478446461240229781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=478446461240229781' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/478446461240229781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/478446461240229781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/upon-reading-last-post.html' title='Upon Reading the Last Post'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-1007317068505193807</id><published>2008-03-30T23:03:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T23:23:13.288-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day &amp; Evening 3</title><content type='html'>i...don't remember why i didn't post last night.  alzheimer's again.  damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alright, so for our second day and third night in the STL.  we actually woke up early again - we had a 10:30 am reservation for easter brunch, so we had to be showered and dressed up and all that good stuff in time to make it there.  our reservation was at the eau bistro at the chase park plaza hotel, and man...we had no idea what we were in for.  first of all, we woke up to snow.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R_Bmu-63wiI/AAAAAAAAAvI/eDYvypS8ZNY/s1600-h/IMG_0475.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R_Bmu-63wiI/AAAAAAAAAvI/eDYvypS8ZNY/s200/IMG_0475.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183756128453378594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  we had a truly icky drive to brunch, parked, and came upon a locked door for eau bistro.  cussing a blue streak (him) and not wanting to walk much further in heels (me), we went inside the hotel and managed to find the bistro that had just shut their outside door but was still open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we sat down and were offered mimosas, which we jumped on, and coffee.  shown the buffet, pete and i started going through the line: eggs benedict, hot pasta, french toast, bacon &amp; sausage, then hand-carved prime rib &amp; lamb, an omelet bar, fresh fruit, roasted cold vegetables, prosciutto, salami, cold pasta salads, duck, oysters, shrimp, crab leg, rolls &amp; bagels &amp; danishes, muffins, and i'm probably forgetting something.  we filled a plate, then another plate, had a mimosa, then another mimosa, then a half a mimosa that was topped off with straight champagne.  finally, we hit up the dessert annex to the space, getting fresh tiramisu, cold chocolate mousse, the richest chocolate brownie i've ever had, a fruit tart, and possibly more.  we must've gained 10 pounds in one meal.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we staggered out, me certifiably tipsy, and drove a couple of blocks to the art museum.  we found ourselves unable to immediately leave the car, we were so full, buzzed, sleepy, and content.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R_Bm6O63wjI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/-Rc5A2lsFys/s1600-h/IMG_0481.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R_Bm6O63wjI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/-Rc5A2lsFys/s200/IMG_0481.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183756321726906930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;after spending a good fifteen solid minutes in the car, we finally were able to get out and go in the museum, where we went picture happy and had a great time seeing more of the museum that we didn't have time for last time.  and i did the whole thing in heels.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;next we drove home and changed into notsofancy clothes, poked around online for an idea of something to do, and decided to go play pool.  we got there, and i went on to kick booty.  his booty, namely.  i believe i will go on record to say that i won six out of seven games.  woo!  i'm now taking names for students, i will teach you all my skills.  leaving the pool hall i decided that my windshield wiper blades &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R_BnGu63wkI/AAAAAAAAAvY/AyGP8nkzA_M/s1600-h/IMG_0549.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R_BnGu63wkI/AAAAAAAAAvY/AyGP8nkzA_M/s200/IMG_0549.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183756536475271746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;needed to be switched around since the one in front of the driver is wearing out faster than the other.  of course, i have no idea how to switch windshield wiper blades.  so i made the illustrious rev do it for me.  which he did, in a "quick, 5 minute operation" that became 15 minutes when my windshield wipers put up a fight.  but he did it, despite my honking the horn while he was working, making him jump and slit his thumb.  uh...oops.  it was funny though.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we wrapped up our nice sleepy easter with dinner at TGIFridays and a drink at their bar.  all in all yet another successful day, only tempered by the knowledge that we would have to once again leave each other the next day.  maybe, though, that sort of situation will come to an end, eventually...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-1007317068505193807?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/1007317068505193807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=1007317068505193807' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1007317068505193807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1007317068505193807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/day-evening-3.html' title='Day &amp; Evening 3'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R_Bmu-63wiI/AAAAAAAAAvI/eDYvypS8ZNY/s72-c/IMG_0475.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-4826405313250776778</id><published>2008-03-28T23:27:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T00:22:13.612-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day &amp; Evening 2</title><content type='html'>we woke up early saturday morning, as we usually do on our vacations, eager to fit in as much as we could in the day.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R-3PW-63wgI/AAAAAAAAAu4/gw89heidPV8/s1600-h/IMG_0453.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R-3PW-63wgI/AAAAAAAAAu4/gw89heidPV8/s200/IMG_0453.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183026739927302658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;we first hit an adorable little downtown coffee shop - of course, we did the usual coffee and crossword, and headed out aiming for what we &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;thought &lt;/span&gt;was the aquarium.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we arrive at what appears to be an insane asylum for children.  suspended over virtual thin air are abandoned planes, a school bus, wire tunnels, a trolley car, a massive ball pit, and various and sundry other very enticing climbing devices.  walking under all of this with parents and kids screaming and climbing above us, we enter complete mayhem.  children everywhere, exhausted parents, exhausted but forcibly perky employees, and the most insane environment i've ever encountered.  a bit overwhelmed, we consult a posted map for the aquarium, only to find that the supposed water wonderland encompasses roughly one eighteenth of this place, this place we've come to find out is called the city museum.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we decided to wander through the store, which happens to be around the corner from ticketing and the one sad sack "guard," aka an older woman in sad bunny ears and a droopy easter tshirt.  we look at the store, head out of it, and decide to just look around this crazy place.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R-3PMe63wfI/AAAAAAAAAuw/AMWfAnWhy2E/s1600-h/IMG_0456.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R-3PMe63wfI/AAAAAAAAAuw/AMWfAnWhy2E/s200/IMG_0456.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183026559538676210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;wandering off, we move far enough in to the place to realize that we have managed to sneak in without even trying.  reveling in this, we went on to enjoy the entirety of the building, unfortunately excluding many, many climbing and hiding opportunities both because we were carrying large bags and because we were scared that we would disappear, never to be seen again except occasionally by other Dwellers of the Tunnels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all in all, we had a blast.  we literally high-fived on the way out for our screwing the man and enjoying a $20/person museum for free.  totally going back there.  because it was freezing, we hopped back in the car and drove a few blocks down to the union station for lunch at houlihan's.  we achieved this after a brief driving the wrong way down a one-way driveway debacle, engineered by the &lt;a href="http://yourneighborhoodreverend.blogspot.com"&gt;chauffeur reverend&lt;/a&gt;.  we had quite the wait at houlihan's, thanks to about 3000 college-aged wrestlers in town for the NCAA wrestling tournament championship deal occurring one block from union station.  who knew that drinking a canned 40 of beer at lunch was mandated by the NCAA rulebooks?  we had a great lunch nonetheless, and left union station to attempt a brewery tour, only to be crowded out by wrestlers there as well.  our next try was gus's pretzels, a great buy.  finally we hit up the history museum, learning about lindbergh, the early conquests of the country by various other countries and how they made their way to missouri, and the st. louis world's fair.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then we headed back to the hotel, where i proceeded to be really romantic and make great use of our time by napping for a large portion of the afternoon.  i awoke to pete launching the ironing board around the room with extensive groaning and squealing (on the board's part), and a call to go get my butt in gear so we'd be ready in time for our 8:15 reservation.  we made it to savor by 8:20, were seated immediately, &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R-3R1e63whI/AAAAAAAAAvA/KRZaERXldUs/s1600-h/n50100965_31076321_1071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R-3R1e63whI/AAAAAAAAAvA/KRZaERXldUs/s200/n50100965_31076321_1071.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183029462936568338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and tried to chain ourselves to our table so we'd never have to leave.  after an extensive meal of new york strip steak (that you could cut with a butter knife) and crab-encrusted salmon, followed by dessert coffees, we left beyond satiated, replenished, and desperate to return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trying to extend our nice evening, we stopped at what was neon-lightedly exclaimed to be a bowling alley and movie theater on the same road as savor, only to search much of the building without any success of actually finding a bowling alley.  literally, nowhere to be found in the building.  so we called it a night, headed back to the hotel, and collapsed to prepare ourselves for the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;coming up: snow, bottomless mimosas, a room of desserts, art &amp; heels, pool halls, windshield wipers, and tgi fridays.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-4826405313250776778?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/4826405313250776778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=4826405313250776778' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/4826405313250776778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/4826405313250776778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/day-evening-2.html' title='Day &amp; Evening 2'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R-3PW-63wgI/AAAAAAAAAu4/gw89heidPV8/s72-c/IMG_0453.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2359164748622959094</id><published>2008-03-27T23:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T23:46:18.379-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Evening 1</title><content type='html'>my bad for not posting last night.  it boils down to i was tired, the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alright so to recap our trip to st. louis, remixed...after calling the police, filing a report, doing a little relaxing to try to calm myself after everything, i headed out for st. louis.  it's (for most people) a three and a half hour drive.  for me, closer to four hours, since i manage to stop four times on that length of a drive.  not to overshare, but i have the world's smallest bladder.  when i later told pete that i stopped twice, twenty minutes apart, he decided then and there that we shall never road trip together, for he would have to murder me.  i am sorry i do not have some backup reservoir system, i am only human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway.  so i got to st. louis, far ahead of pete thanks to getting to leave earlier than planned, and hit up the local schnuck's for a couple dinner supplies.  we stayed at a homestead suites with a full kitchen in each room.  i had planned in advance to bring and make dinner - the plan was to have it ready and on the table for him upon his later arrival.  i unpacked, chopped up the chicken for the chicken tikka masala i was making (totally not from scratch, i got a kick a** sauce in a jar from world market), and watched a very interesting diane sawyer (go wellesley!) documentary on "working girls."  finally, pete called to alert me that he was in the neighborhood, so i got dinner going so that it'd be piping hot for him.  unfortunately we happened to be staying on the most annoying, difficult, and potentially dangerous road to get to in perhaps all of st. louis, so it took pete an additional 40 minutes longer than it should have to find the place and get checked in.  needless to say, he was a little peeved when he got there.  i had done all i could to maintain optimum heat levels on the food without burning it.  it still tasted pretty good, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we exchanged some gifts before and after dinner - i had made him a little easter basket with his favorite candies and a huge hit: a white iron paperweight from pottery barn, shaped like a paperclip.  apparently, this was his heart's most intimate desire.  who knew?  then he pulls out a bag and says he has something "little" for me for our 6 month anniversary.  and hands me a zales bag...with two boxes in it.  turns out the man got me diamond earrings and a diamond necklace for our anniversary - i was beyond surprised, and i have literally not yet taken the earrings off.  i take the necklace off for sleep, but i have worn that every day since that minute, too.  once again, i am spoiled beyond belief.  in case you were wondering if that was waning.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow's tale will include sneaking into a museum, wrestlers by the thousands, a nap, a large steak, and an invisible bowling alley.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2359164748622959094?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2359164748622959094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2359164748622959094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2359164748622959094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2359164748622959094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/evening-1.html' title='Evening 1'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-7785276316103743984</id><published>2008-03-24T23:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T23:21:21.556-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back From Break</title><content type='html'>i'm going to, for now, pretend that my weekend didn't happen so that i can regale you with what happened to me BEFORE my weekend began, and what threatened to completely ruin all possibilities of fun with my rev.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as i documented on here, my beloved watch and a cheap but equally beloved bracelet had recently gone strangely missing from my bedside table.  i am beyond OCD about my watch.  i take it off every night, place it in the little leaf dish &lt;a href="http://kittyandpants.blogspot.com"&gt;katherine&lt;/a&gt; had sent me, wake up in the morning, put it on, rinse, repeat.  so as i said, its disappearance was truly baffling to me, but i decided to wait it out for it to magically reappear in the freezer or something, as things of mine that go missing are sometimes wont to do.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then, friday morning as i got ready for work in one of my fav new cardigans, i decided to add one of my favorite necklaces to my ensemble: the freshwater pearls that pete had sent me for...well for no good reason, but they were super special to me, for obvious reasons.  i opened the drawer where they live(d) in my jewelry armoire, only to find a blank spot.  my heart in my throat, i tore out the drawer, pulled open other drawers frantically, slid my hand up the backside of the drawers, and found nothing.  i flipped open the top of the armoire where my rings and earrings live, and found three blank spots in the ring crevices.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;silver lining: i do not have early onset alzheimer's.  tarnished anti-lining: i have been robbed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i called pete and sobbingly apologized for letting his necklace get stolen, and then tried to go to work and put it from my mind, only to burst out in tears more than once telling people that my necklace from pete was gone.  i finally ended up leaving work at noon, going home, and calling the police to file a report.  seeing that the cop that came was able to pick a lock to a (now much more secured) door that leads directly to my room in about 3.6 seconds, we think we know how it happened.  it still sucks, and whoever you are that took my necklace, watch, bracelet, and rings, watch your back.  i'm coming for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-7785276316103743984?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/7785276316103743984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=7785276316103743984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7785276316103743984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7785276316103743984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/back-from-break.html' title='Back From Break'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-6126932161191506431</id><published>2008-03-20T22:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T22:19:51.804-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks...</title><content type='html'>"are you excited to see my tattoo?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i dunno.  prolly not."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"um, thanks..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"huh?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-6126932161191506431?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/6126932161191506431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=6126932161191506431' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/6126932161191506431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/6126932161191506431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/thanks.html' title='Thanks...'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-510380577189376410</id><published>2008-03-19T22:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T22:13:26.486-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So Hardcore</title><content type='html'>i just got a tattoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a real one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i chose a more unusual path than most, and went with all white ink.  my tattoo is on the inside of my left wrist, and is a line of sanskrit that translates to drishta dharma sukha viharin.  it's part of the third noble truth of buddhism, and basically means "dwelling happily in things as they are."  it's often used as a mantra while meditating.  i'm just going to use it to try and guide my life a little more and help remind me to focus on what makes me happy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's an early image of it, literally the second he took the needle away from my skin:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R-HV5-63weI/AAAAAAAAAuo/7fcDdh0vviU/s1600-h/IMG_0434.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R-HV5-63weI/AAAAAAAAAuo/7fcDdh0vviU/s320/IMG_0434.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179656238571962850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;counting the minutes til i get to take my bandage off and see it calmed down.  although first i have to wash the extra white off...derek (my tattoo artist) smeared extra ink over the whole tattoo after it was finished, telling me that after they do tribal work in brazil, they put extra ink over it since they are convinced that the tattoo still soaks up more ink.  he did this with a shrug and a well, let's see if it works.  guess it can't hurt.  more pics to come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-510380577189376410?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/510380577189376410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=510380577189376410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/510380577189376410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/510380577189376410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/so-hardcore.html' title='So Hardcore'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R-HV5-63weI/AAAAAAAAAuo/7fcDdh0vviU/s72-c/IMG_0434.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-3703451997126284860</id><published>2008-03-18T22:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T22:53:30.987-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Grand</title><content type='html'>"so you're going on dates with other girls?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"well...i can't just withdraw from life...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT?!?!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"wait what did you say?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-3703451997126284860?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/3703451997126284860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=3703451997126284860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3703451997126284860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3703451997126284860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/grand.html' title='Grand'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-1647883827650912254</id><published>2008-03-17T21:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T21:42:49.733-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bum Crack of Dawn</title><content type='html'>this morning i went to my second job to help them finish up a floor set to redo a lot of displays in the store.  i woke up at 5:30 am today to be there by 6, and as insane as it sounds i kind of like going in that early.  i work on the plaza, and it is so nice and quiet to go in before the morning rush hour, at that time when delivery trucks are making their rounds, when parking garages are empty, when the roads are clear and dark.  not to mention the drastic reduction in commute time - i left my house at 5:42 am and arrived at work at 5:54, including a stop at sun fresh.  i think, though, that the biggest benefit to early morning shifts is that you go, you work, and the whole time you're kind of in this half-awake state.  then you leave, do other things, maybe take a nap, and then the fact that you worked kind of fades away.  and then in a couple weeks you still get paid for going to do something you barely remember doing.  suhweet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-1647883827650912254?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/1647883827650912254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=1647883827650912254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1647883827650912254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1647883827650912254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/bum-crack-of-dawn.html' title='Bum Crack of Dawn'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-3689582601215190230</id><published>2008-03-16T22:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T22:36:13.542-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am DOING This</title><content type='html'>a textual conversation between me and the rev:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pilates?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Shit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ha  oh well."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Please just try not to think of me as fat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh please."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;true, i did tell him to remind me daily to do pilates.  but ever since that first session, i have not returned to my smooshy blue mat in the living room, nor the smiling b*&amp;#h telling me how good i feel while i shake and sweat.  but i'm going to do it tonight, right now, without him even telling me to.  mostly to make me tired so i can get up at 5:30 am and still have gotten some sleep under my belt, but also for health reasons.  and maybe a little so that when he asks i can say YES I DID SO HA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-3689582601215190230?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/3689582601215190230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=3689582601215190230' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3689582601215190230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3689582601215190230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-am-doing-this.html' title='I Am DOING This'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-7814898536804033027</id><published>2008-03-15T23:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T23:24:58.567-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Early Onset</title><content type='html'>what do i need to do to get evaluated for early onset alzheimer's?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't find my watch and bracelet.  i have literally destroyed my room looking for them.  i even emptied my trash.  yet i have the niggling sensation i tucked them away somewhere, and now i've got nothing.  then, thinking back trying to track my movements, i feel like i've had blackouts.  i don't remember whole sections of the past week, so i have no clue when i last saw my watch.  i'm serious, something is wrong with my brain.  if someone saw me set my watch and bracelet down at a random locale and wander off (as i did this past week with a gap bag full of things i bought about ten minutes previously and was lucky enough to recover), could you let me know where?  and then get me to a home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-7814898536804033027?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/7814898536804033027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=7814898536804033027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7814898536804033027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7814898536804033027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/early-onset.html' title='Early Onset'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-8287003264683926715</id><published>2008-03-14T23:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T23:40:49.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rehashing the Re-Meeting</title><content type='html'>despite that booty, the reverend and i had kind of lost and found contact repeatedly for seven years.  one of those "hey, what's up?!" every few months on aim, an occasional facebook message or two, but nothing terribly consistent.  he will avow up and down and left and right that he has loved me for 50 years, but the true story is that we just sometimes connected and said hey for a bit but being states away from each other we kind of went our own ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then, in september 2007, i got another random aim from pete.  just a hey, what's up, by the way you should come down to memphis sometime...and for some impulsive reason, i said you know what?  what if i do?  and i decided to go down for a fun weekend away from kc, not knowing what was coming my way.  we talked endlessly on the phone in the time leading up to my visit, and then the day was there and i was on my way.  i left at three a.m. from kc&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R9tS42VrKVI/AAAAAAAAAuY/7hSd83WB9Hk/s1600-h/100_0970.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R9tS42VrKVI/AAAAAAAAAuY/7hSd83WB9Hk/s320/100_0970.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177823333205092690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, drove all the way there, and finally found his little bungalow by the university of memphis.  and i will never forget the hug he gave me in the middle of his front lawn, the sense that i was where i belonged, that this was goodness personified, that something was definitely going down.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the first day there flew by with a lunch out, a visit to the museum, watching a band on beale street, and general hanging out at his house.  i found myself wanting him to take my hand, to try to steal a kiss, to just be as humanly close to me as possible.    i made my own little move as we watched tv at his house, tucking my freezing feet under that same cute (and warm) bum.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R9tTKmVrKWI/AAAAAAAAAug/mtyOQU_umG8/s1600-h/100_0982.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R9tTKmVrKWI/AAAAAAAAAug/mtyOQU_umG8/s320/100_0982.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177823638147770722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;finally, he let me know that he wanted to be more than my friend and had been feeling that way for longer than the day that i had been there with him (and not the 75 years he'll claim, either).  and i admitted to him that i felt the same, and from that moment we've been together.  it will be six months next week, and they've been the most fun months i've ever had with someone who evolved from a good friend to an awesome boyfriend who clearly spoils and loves me who i spoil and love back.  the story is going to continue to write itself from here, stay tuned!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-8287003264683926715?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/8287003264683926715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=8287003264683926715' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8287003264683926715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8287003264683926715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/rehashing-re-meeting.html' title='Rehashing the Re-Meeting'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R9tS42VrKVI/AAAAAAAAAuY/7hSd83WB9Hk/s72-c/100_0970.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-8338947054485416318</id><published>2008-03-13T23:49:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T23:56:23.280-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How We Met</title><content type='html'>we are going to go back in the day for this one.  i feel like illuminating, for all five of my readers and all five hundred of the rev's, how we met and how we re-met with the ensuing fireworks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pete and i went to nerd camp together.  that's pretty much the sum total of it.  it was at the university of kansas, summer of 2000, i was 15, he was 16, it was hot as hell, and we were holed up for seven hours a day for three weeks learning "Writing With Power."  he is, quite possibly, the first guy i've had a legitimate crush on.  he smelled SO GOOD.  so good i wanted to sneak into his dorm room and find out what it was that smelled so good and then buy it and keep it and smell it forever.  i would work out ways to sit next to him in class JUST to smell him.  he still smells amazing, and his current preferred scent is acqua di gio, of which i wholeheartedly approve.  let's look back:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R9oEk2VrKSI/AAAAAAAAAuA/zxw08TDewfQ/s1600-h/IMG_0422.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R9oEk2VrKSI/AAAAAAAAAuA/zxw08TDewfQ/s320/IMG_0422.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177455752724031778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;there we are with our oddly-blurred classmates.  we both were addicted to baseball hats that summer: him because he looked cool, me because i could hide my eyes from you.  let's look closer:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R9oE0WVrKTI/AAAAAAAAAuI/2APT_L5vP9Y/s1600-h/IMG_0418.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R9oE0WVrKTI/AAAAAAAAAuI/2APT_L5vP9Y/s320/IMG_0418.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177456019012004146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;how cute were we?  i was so so skinny, and he had so. much. hair.  i prefer the current scruff levels he wears, to be honest.  odd fact: the man never wears a baseball hat anymore.  and hates girls that do.  apparently present company excluded.  but let's take one more look back eight years, to see what really hooked me and keeps me around these past six months:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R9oFNmVrKUI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/L7_5eU49ap4/s1600-h/IMG_0421.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R9oFNmVrKUI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/L7_5eU49ap4/s320/IMG_0421.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177456452803701058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;woo!  and as for the re-meeting, it kind of evolved and was discussed on this blog, but i will rehash tomorrow.  til then, enjoy his hot booty.  another interesting fact: he is now blushing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-8338947054485416318?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/8338947054485416318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=8338947054485416318' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8338947054485416318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8338947054485416318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/how-we-met.html' title='How We Met'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R9oEk2VrKSI/AAAAAAAAAuA/zxw08TDewfQ/s72-c/IMG_0422.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-8881234053565442217</id><published>2008-03-12T23:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T23:52:46.018-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ThisClose</title><content type='html'>i came within ten seconds today of getting a tattoo.  i even have an appointment for friday morning.  but i don't think i'm going to go through with it.  not that i don't want it...i do want it.  but i don't think i $70 want it.  despite a recent surge in funds thanks to my tax refund, i would rather spend extra dollars on a couple trips to see my rev than a mark on my wrist.  for now.  if someone wants to just hand me $70 for fun, i'll go ahead and get a tattoo.  any takers?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-8881234053565442217?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/8881234053565442217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=8881234053565442217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8881234053565442217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8881234053565442217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/thisclose.html' title='ThisClose'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-9003495071318516334</id><published>2008-03-11T20:14:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T20:32:48.041-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No Longer Required</title><content type='html'>henry durant, beloved founder of wellesley college (sigilum wellesleiani), was ahead of his time.  about a hundred years before the fitness craze of the neon thong leotards of the 1980s, durant believed in the sound body, sound mind theory.  when he had olmsted design the campus, he popped each picturesque dorm on to the top of a hill.  no chunky girls allowed at this school!  similarly, since the beginning, we've had a gym requirement.  through a combination of procrastination and a whacked-out kneecap, i needed one more credit of gym by the last semester of my senior year.  for some unknown reason i chose a 9 a.m. pilates class that met twice a week.  pilates sounds all relaxing, right?  like one step away from yoga.  probably it's mostly going to be meditating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i started taking pilates with a drill sergeant woman who has three kids and an approximately 12 inch, rock hard waist.  when i say drill sergeant i mean a loving, attentive woman who just really put us through the motions.  try pilates sometime.  it will kick.  your.  ass.  it is easily the hardest exercise i've ever done.  i'm big in racquet sports - tennis, racquetball (this is how i busted my knee), etc.  that's lot's of cardio, but pilates is all about muscle control.  teeny little movements that make you sweat, shake, and often want to hurl.  i did it for a semester and noticed an appreciable difference in my strength, graduated college, and promptly gained 25 pounds.  olmsted and durant, they knew what they were doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, after having lost that 25 pounds, i want to tone up.  i have a mat and a pilates video, so i got back into it starting tonight.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/414KZ9J93KL._AA280_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/414KZ9J93KL._AA280_.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;we'll see how long it lasts, but it does feel good.  although this b*tch put me through the drill and i was red and huffing and puffing, shaking, joints popping, and now i'm sore.  but the endorphin thing happened, the de-stress thing to some degree, so i'm going to do it again.  but dang try holding that position for a second and you'll get an idea of what pilates is...brutal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-9003495071318516334?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/9003495071318516334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=9003495071318516334' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/9003495071318516334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/9003495071318516334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/no-longer-required.html' title='No Longer Required'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2263133147125081118</id><published>2008-03-11T00:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T00:14:09.739-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Craigslist: Pros &amp; Cons</title><content type='html'>i was ok with craigslist til tonight.  i found my roommates/apartment on it, and it worked out well.  but then tonight, when i tried to post to give away my cat that is currently residing with my mom, and dared to audaciously suggest that i would need to meet the person interested before handing my cat over, the post was forthwith earmarked for removal within an hour.  apparently asking to screen people is not ok, according to whomever decided to remove me.  so yeah, all you dog fighters out there, let me hand you over my sweet, gentle, 10-year-old cat for bait without ever meeting you.  sweet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2263133147125081118?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2263133147125081118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2263133147125081118' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2263133147125081118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2263133147125081118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/craigslist-pros-cons.html' title='Craigslist: Pros &amp; Cons'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2437660538632457041</id><published>2008-03-09T21:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T21:28:44.861-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Garbled</title><content type='html'>i'm so tired from this week of work that i am hardly able to form coherent thoughts.  coming across the radar:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i could have someone make me a warm, toasted, buttered, jammed or honeyed bagel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to go tanning.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need to shower but that means like holding my arms up and standing up for over three minutes.  then there's the whole having to blowdry my hair.  meh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmm ruby tuesday burgers look good.  i am a sucker for food commercials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my hands feel like they are full of sand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want an iphone.  i am an unabashed consumer immersed in consumer must-have culture.  they are cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need to vaccuum my floor.  instead, i will wear flip flops everywhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2437660538632457041?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2437660538632457041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2437660538632457041' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2437660538632457041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2437660538632457041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/garbled.html' title='Garbled'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-7657229169383645291</id><published>2008-03-07T23:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T23:55:00.267-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Heading Off to Sleepytown</title><content type='html'>last night i once again quickly hit the i'm-just-going-to-rest-my-eyes-for-2-minutzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz point after getting home from work and eating dinner, so i ended up passing out for the night at the respectable time of 10 pm.  and sleeping til 10 am.  apparently, i was tired.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am now hitting the point in the evening where it sounds like a good plan to leave all my lights on and my door open and just fall asleep slumped over in bed, just because all those things are so.far.away.  possible contributor to this state: a late-night trip to winstead's for fries, a double winstead, and a frosty.  good old greasy diner food has a way of making you sleepy tired.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.roadfood.com/photos/5955.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.roadfood.com/photos/5955.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;p.s.: i wish the place looked like this instead of an oasis in a frozen wasteland.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-7657229169383645291?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/7657229169383645291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=7657229169383645291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7657229169383645291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7657229169383645291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/heading-off-to-sleepytown.html' title='Heading Off to Sleepytown'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-7255359952808194305</id><published>2008-03-05T20:32:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T20:58:59.325-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleepover!</title><content type='html'>this past saturday night i, on a slightly ill-advised whim, decided to meet my sister and her family for dinner and from there to take my (step)niece to my house for a sleepover.  she is newly four, quite precocious, quite the manipulator when she wants to be, and totally fun most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in my brilliance i decided to get her hopped up on sugar at eight p.m. only to watch a movie.  we made triple chunk chocolate brownies (she stirred the mix!  and she cracked the eggs!  and she made brownies!  she MADE THEM!), &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R89dffKCFbI/AAAAAAAAAs4/wy_HhP0tM_w/s1600-h/IMG_0382.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R89dffKCFbI/AAAAAAAAAs4/wy_HhP0tM_w/s200/IMG_0382.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174457292392895922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;painted nails as they baked, read a book on monsters, had a bath, then settled on to my big bed (she was forced to use my leather bench at the foot of my bed as a stepping stone to get on to it) to watch "ratatouille" and gorge on brownies and milk.  we were up until midnight, whereupon it was time for bed and for my hand on her back to protect her from Monsters That Will Definitely Get Her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the morning started, for reagan, at 7:22 a.m., at which time she abruptly sat up in bed next to me and said, "katie.  katie?  katie.  it is morning time."  i groggily told her that it was morning time indeed, but still quiet time.  she huffily laid back down with her feet towards the pillows and somewhat patiently tried to wait me out.  i did hear several, "katie?  it is still morning time.  wake up now?"  but they were fairly quiet and quickly shushed.  8:15 turned out to be her limit, so i clicked on cartoons and fell back asleep as she glazed over, finally waking up at 9.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that morning went on to include a trip to the nelson with mandatory treats from the store, and then a brunch out to 180 in westport with my coworker ray and his godchildren, evie &amp; ollie.  at 12 and 10 they had a few years on my 4-year-old, but they were great with her and taught her tricks with a straw and patiently listened to her regale them with how &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R89dtfKCFcI/AAAAAAAAAtA/mHjsMzEDKdU/s1600-h/IMG_0386.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R89dtfKCFcI/AAAAAAAAAtA/mHjsMzEDKdU/s200/IMG_0386.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174457532911064514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;she. made. brownies. she. stirred. them!  despite her finicky eating habits, she managed to down an entire salad (lettuce, cheese, and croutons, that is all, with "wanch sauce") and white grape juice.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from there we went back to her dad and my sister's house, the drive of which resulted in a severely passed out little girl, finally crashing from sugar, food, art, people, and movie rushes all exploding within her.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R89d4vKCFdI/AAAAAAAAAtI/WUlfikGZDpg/s1600-h/IMG_0396.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R89d4vKCFdI/AAAAAAAAAtI/WUlfikGZDpg/s200/IMG_0396.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174457726184592850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and so ended my little experiment in parenting - although as a parent i guess i would not be able to crack her out on sugar, keep her up late, and then hand her off.  way more fun this way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-7255359952808194305?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/7255359952808194305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=7255359952808194305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7255359952808194305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7255359952808194305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/sleepover.html' title='Sleepover!'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R89dffKCFbI/AAAAAAAAAs4/wy_HhP0tM_w/s72-c/IMG_0382.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-5599784470613040905</id><published>2008-03-04T23:11:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T23:13:39.602-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Flatline</title><content type='html'>very large fennel &amp; arugula salad with buffala mozzarella, marinated tomatoes, and romano crusted chicken breast in a light lemon vinagrette plus about half a pound of herbed bread plus my one &amp; only amaretto sour equals me passed out cold about 12 minutes after getting home after dinner.  i think i passed out from food happiness but maybe food overload.  so sleepy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-5599784470613040905?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/5599784470613040905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=5599784470613040905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5599784470613040905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5599784470613040905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/flatline.html' title='Flatline'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-740218935105227222</id><published>2008-03-03T23:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T07:30:16.449-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Nothing Day</title><content type='html'>three hours of work, a session at panera with my favorite soup and sandwich and a book, a long nap, more reading, and a bowl of pizza rolls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this was my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am storing up laziness in anticipation of not getting another day off til next monday.  if i had a power bar like in the video games, and the bar represented levels of laziness, i would be at about 98%, and only need you to guide me to one more non-energy pack to reach 100%.  when my little animated character gets that one last pack, she will lay down in the middle of the game to sleep as all the other little evil characters just walk up to her and poke her with their monster toes.  but she keeps sleeping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-740218935105227222?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/740218935105227222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=740218935105227222' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/740218935105227222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/740218935105227222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/another-nothing-day.html' title='Another Nothing Day'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-8578790230347150224</id><published>2008-03-02T16:16:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T16:20:05.857-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Couple Days Back</title><content type='html'>i forgot to make a post about this, and it's just a short one, but i wanted to just reiterate how awesome my reverend is with some photographic evidence: &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R8snW_iAaII/AAAAAAAAAsw/oz1AYbuxXww/s1600-h/IMG_0372+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R8snW_iAaII/AAAAAAAAAsw/oz1AYbuxXww/s320/IMG_0372+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173271872929818754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; this teeny envelope arrived the other day.  i discovered it tucked way down in the bottom of our mailbox, and squeezed on its odd, crunchy puffiness as i went upstairs.  scared to tear anything, i ripped a teeny hole in the corner, only to have a little bit of red confetti glimmer out at me.  i ripped a bigger hole (as you can see).  this resulted in a mini explosion of shiny red confetti on my bedroom floor that enthralled the cats.  tucked in among the confetti, though, was something that made me squeal with happiness: starbuck's gift cards.  the man knows the way to my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-8578790230347150224?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/8578790230347150224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=8578790230347150224' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8578790230347150224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8578790230347150224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/03/couple-days-back.html' title='Couple Days Back'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R8snW_iAaII/AAAAAAAAAsw/oz1AYbuxXww/s72-c/IMG_0372+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2650082854537777708</id><published>2008-02-29T23:25:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T23:29:01.905-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Inducted</title><content type='html'>i have heard much about the whole "it's not delivery, it's digiorno!" craze for several years now, but have managed to avoid actually trying them until tonight.  besides burning a layer of skin off of the roof of my mouth in my eagerness to eat, the experience was a good one - i went with a supreme personal-sized digiorno pizza.  i did go ahead and pick off the black olives.  but it's all about the crust with this pizza, and it did not disappoint.  i have been inducted into the club.  wahoo.  see how exciting my life is?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2650082854537777708?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2650082854537777708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2650082854537777708' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2650082854537777708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2650082854537777708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/inducted.html' title='Inducted'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-7326090843996436148</id><published>2008-02-28T23:56:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T23:59:41.042-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Something New</title><content type='html'>i get to sleep in tomorrow.  to say i am looking forward to this is an overwhelming understatement.  i'm exhausted.  i have, however, managed to prop my eyes open until now to finally catch the project runway this week.  now that this is wrapping up and everyone is saying how thankful they are for the experience and how much they look forward to showing at bryant park and how p.s., this experience was amazing, it is time for sleepytime.  peace out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-7326090843996436148?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/7326090843996436148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=7326090843996436148' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7326090843996436148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7326090843996436148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/something-new.html' title='Something New'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-3581251148961536404</id><published>2008-02-27T23:17:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T23:24:08.233-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling the Recession</title><content type='html'>it is amazing how much you can feel the recession working two retail jobs.  it is slower than slow at both, to the point that i feel like all that i accomplished today was standing around on top of standing around.  sales have been dismal at both.  it is interesting to see that it is affecting both small-scale specialty stores like my day job, and major home decor retailers like my evening/weekend job.  scary times when people can't just go out on a whim and get a montego mahogany dining table for a couple grand.  sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-3581251148961536404?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/3581251148961536404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=3581251148961536404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3581251148961536404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3581251148961536404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/feeling-recession.html' title='Feeling the Recession'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-3477493476007931369</id><published>2008-02-25T17:33:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T17:41:09.909-06:00</updated><title type='text'>An Ode</title><content type='html'>after passing a sidewalk guitar player out in the cold, he went in the bookstore, bought a hot chocolate from the cafe, and gave it to the chilled man with a handshake and a smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he yells at me to "not touch that door!!" so that he can open it for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;offering his arm, he guides me to my car door over the ice - aware of my wobbliness in heels on the uneven ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he enjoys our indian dinner out so much, he proclaims that he will write them a letter of appreciation and cc the food section of the kansas city star.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he bends his head to consult with me over the crosswords, asking for help even when he doesn't really need it; we work on them together over brunch, quietly being together before subsequently enjoying a trip through a bookstore.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss him.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R8NR3WARC8I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/G41JI0rR-Kw/s1600-h/IMG_0352.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R8NR3WARC8I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/G41JI0rR-Kw/s320/IMG_0352.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171066808392813506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-3477493476007931369?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/3477493476007931369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=3477493476007931369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3477493476007931369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3477493476007931369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/ode.html' title='An Ode'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R8NR3WARC8I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/G41JI0rR-Kw/s72-c/IMG_0352.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-8943660419512273672</id><published>2008-02-22T18:58:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T19:51:05.417-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What I Did Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://yourneighborhoodreverend.blogspot.com/2008/02/true-value-of-dollar.html"&gt;I thought about Pete Anderson from 9:02 am until 6:59 pm on February 22, 2008 in Kansas City.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-8943660419512273672?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/8943660419512273672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=8943660419512273672' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8943660419512273672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8943660419512273672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/what-i-did-today.html' title='What I Did Today'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-1556035124643061842</id><published>2008-02-21T23:11:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T23:14:09.106-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chip Chop</title><content type='html'>an extensive amount of time had gone into creating this:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R75ZsmARC6I/AAAAAAAAAsA/PnbCfLY3upM/s1600-h/IMG_0300.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R75ZsmARC6I/AAAAAAAAAsA/PnbCfLY3upM/s320/IMG_0300.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169668044918688674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;like years...but then give my talented roommate about half an hour and this is what i came away with:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R75aB2ARC7I/AAAAAAAAAsI/nptphQTioTE/s1600-h/IMG_0305.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R75aB2ARC7I/AAAAAAAAAsI/nptphQTioTE/s320/IMG_0305.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169668409990908850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-1556035124643061842?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/1556035124643061842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=1556035124643061842' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1556035124643061842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1556035124643061842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/chip-chop.html' title='Chip Chop'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R75ZsmARC6I/AAAAAAAAAsA/PnbCfLY3upM/s72-c/IMG_0300.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2124338533431032902</id><published>2008-02-20T19:53:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T20:02:07.094-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions</title><content type='html'>i cannot stand book jackets.  as long as it is my book, i generally take them off for the duration of the read, only making use of them as bookmarks.  sorry publishers...total waste of paper, i think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hypothesis: i have a strong suspicion that air is somehow escaping my right eye.  proof: whenever i put my sunglasses on in the car, only my right lens fogs up.  obvious conclusion: i have a small perforation somewhere in my eye socket that lets air out.  more disturbing question - if i held my breath and was quiet for long enough, would it whistle?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have proof positive that i can indeed be starstruck.  today john lithgow&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://us.movies1.yimg.com/movies.yahoo.com/images/hv/photo/movie_pix/fox_searchlight/kinsey/john_lithgow/kinseyprea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://us.movies1.yimg.com/movies.yahoo.com/images/hv/photo/movie_pix/fox_searchlight/kinsey/john_lithgow/kinseyprea.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; came into the museum store, and after basically saying, "hello, nice to see you!" and having him say the same back, i immediately called my boyfriend and my mom and just now changed my facebook status to reflect my having met him.  i thought i was cool, only to find out i was lame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my feet are permanently freezing unless wedged securely under pete.  this may be a tactic to be close to him that my body has contrived completely independent of my brain, or i have little to no circulation.  you may take bets.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2124338533431032902?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2124338533431032902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2124338533431032902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2124338533431032902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2124338533431032902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/confessions.html' title='Confessions'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-1741661907757000335</id><published>2008-02-19T23:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T23:07:59.758-06:00</updated><title type='text'>How To Waste a Night</title><content type='html'>i somehow consistently manage to blow an entire evening.  i get off of work at 5, eat dinner, and then all of a sudden it is 11 pm.  i believe that i watch some crappy tv in there, maybe get a glass of apple juice, pet the cats, play many, many scrabulous moves, look at a jillion websites, and then, as i said, it is 11 pm.  it is both disconcerting and rather frightening how many hours i have spent completely doing nothing.  my bed is comfortable, thank god, seeing how i spend about 7 waking and 7 sleeping hours in it a day...i am so lazy.  someone institute a workout program on me.  stat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-1741661907757000335?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/1741661907757000335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=1741661907757000335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1741661907757000335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1741661907757000335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/how-to-waste-night.html' title='How To Waste a Night'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-470360738960480119</id><published>2008-02-18T00:11:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T00:17:40.410-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Memoirs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lotuseater.files.wordpress.com/2007/11/memoirs_of_a_geisha_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://lotuseater.files.wordpress.com/2007/11/memoirs_of_a_geisha_poster.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;i have spent literally all day with this story.  i read memoirs of a geisha start to finish this afternoon, starting curled up in bed at home while it snowed, followed by over an hour curled up at panera eating broccoli cheddar soup with extra french bread, and then finally finishing it back curled up in bed.  soon after finally finishing the book, i hit up westport's blockbuster and picked up the movie.  now that i've finished both i can safely say that once again a movie has failed the book.  while the movie is beautiful and some of the scenes of the book are brought to life, much too much is left out from the story.  this leaves the movie feeling melodramatic and the plot line sort of weak - not enough back story is given as to why certain passions exist, why certain angers erupt.  plus i kind of felt that the dialogue was stilted and not all the acting really what the power of the story called for.  either way once again writing has won out against film, for me, and i can't say i feel surprised.  sorry to come to this story and movie about three years after the fact of the movie's release, but it is an interesting enterprise to read a story straight through and immediately watch the movie, and one i haven't done before.  i may have to try it again - but i can't say i don't expect the writing to win 9 times out of 10.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-470360738960480119?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/470360738960480119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=470360738960480119' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/470360738960480119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/470360738960480119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/memoirs.html' title='Memoirs'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-7847525054384166327</id><published>2008-02-16T23:11:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T23:15:51.489-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So Done With This</title><content type='html'>this winter has been the nasty nastiest winter in kc in a long while, at least as far as i am concerned.  we've been getting snow/ice/freezing rain/sleet about once a week for months now and i'm pretty well over it.  i'm currently seeking a winter home in the cayman islands or perhaps elba.  i have no money to pay for this home, so i am looking for a financial sponsor.  also, if you have a plane to transport me to and fro, that would be great.  i am willing to provide you with art historical knowledge, read books for you, and get a tan on your behalf.  once i've received a few offers of places i'll go ahead and make a decision and let you all know where i'll be next winter.  stay tuned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-7847525054384166327?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/7847525054384166327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=7847525054384166327' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7847525054384166327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7847525054384166327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/so-done-with-this.html' title='So Done With This'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2319778281035153962</id><published>2008-02-15T22:00:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T22:08:34.365-06:00</updated><title type='text'>On the Second Day of Valentine's My True Love Gave to Meeee...</title><content type='html'>pete decided that, on top of the lovely sexy chat you see below, he would send me two days of presents for valentine's.  i kind of did the same...on his day one he got some books and dark chocolate, and on his day two he got six chocolate covered strawberries.  consequently i made him gain 3 pounds, but he loved it.  but for my day one (actual valentine's, whereas his day one was back on tuesday) i got a dozen light pink roses&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R7ZgvmARC4I/AAAAAAAAArw/5Yemuzk2T3U/s1600-h/IMG_0267.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R7ZgvmARC4I/AAAAAAAAArw/5Yemuzk2T3U/s200/IMG_0267.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167423993226005378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; mixed with baby's breath.  totally gorgeous, and the by far most fragrant flowers i've ever gotten.  then, on day two (if you're keeping up with this, that was today), i came home to a nice small package from fedex.  tore it open, opened another little box, opened a plastic bag, and found a gorgeous silver necklace wrapped up inside for me. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R7ZhZGARC5I/AAAAAAAAAr4/jjGRDfRG2X8/s1600-h/IMG_0276.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R7ZhZGARC5I/AAAAAAAAAr4/jjGRDfRG2X8/s200/IMG_0276.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167424706190576530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  totally gorgeous, i'm wearing it to work tomorrow.  he may be rather strange with his sexy chats, but the man knows how to spoil a girl - he has now picked out four pieces of jewelry for me, each one of which has been an out-of-the-park hit.  if any man happens to read this blog, take note.  this is how it's done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2319778281035153962?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2319778281035153962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2319778281035153962' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2319778281035153962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2319778281035153962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/on-second-day-of-valentines-my-true.html' title='On the Second Day of Valentine&apos;s My True Love Gave to Meeee...'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R7ZgvmARC4I/AAAAAAAAArw/5Yemuzk2T3U/s72-c/IMG_0267.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-4201307805503725295</id><published>2008-02-14T20:15:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T21:04:04.303-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Valentine's From the Reverend</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pete:&lt;/span&gt; we can sexy chat, then&lt;br /&gt;cyber?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;me:&lt;/span&gt; oh sure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pete:&lt;/span&gt; whee !&lt;br /&gt;I slowly tickle the back of your knee....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;me:&lt;/span&gt; that's an interesting start&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pete:&lt;/span&gt; ha&lt;br /&gt;then......&lt;br /&gt;I do a color change on your toe nails..&lt;br /&gt;burgundy red&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;me:&lt;/span&gt; nice....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pete:&lt;/span&gt; then I slowly move up...and put your hair in pig tails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;me:&lt;/span&gt; i am your doll now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pete:&lt;/span&gt; I apply base, then rouge and lipstick.&lt;br /&gt;then i ever so slowly... .put a watch on your wrist (ohhhh yeaa)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;me:&lt;/span&gt; you are definitely nuts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pete:&lt;/span&gt; ha&lt;br /&gt;I gently stencil my name in Henna ink across your lower back.&lt;br /&gt;too much?&lt;br /&gt;fawn :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;me:&lt;/span&gt; no i like the henna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pete:&lt;/span&gt; I then bend you over....and arrange various slices of oranges, apples, kiwis,                                                                                                                     and pineapple in a star pattern on your bare skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;me: &lt;/span&gt;i think you need to get to the doctor sooner rather than later&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pete:&lt;/span&gt; I then take two bagels (one sun dried tomato, one wheat), slice them into bite                                                    size pieces, and rain them down upon us both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;me:&lt;/span&gt; sounds very breakfasty of us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pete:&lt;/span&gt; a piece of cheesecake materializes....I put half the piece in your mouth...and                   the other I put aside for later.&lt;br /&gt;Bringing forth a pack of Sour Patch Kids, I arrange a bonanza of flavors in your luxurious hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;me:&lt;/span&gt; i'm going to publish this on my blog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pete:&lt;/span&gt; Absorbed with passion, you tear my shirt clean off.....whereupon a turkey     sandwich and a dill pickle slice (both of which I'd been saving for a late afternoon snack) pour out.&lt;br /&gt;You delicately yet forcefully draw a smiley face in mustard on my chest, then accent it with a ketchup hairdo, reminiscent of Raggedy Andy. We chuckle about Raggedy Andy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;me:&lt;/span&gt; you're certifiable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pete: &lt;/span&gt;I take two Jelly Belly jelly beans (both popcorn flavor, of course), and insert them ever....so....slowly....into your ears.&lt;br /&gt;Then I sing the Canadian National Anthem, though you cannot hear and do not understand my marching about.&lt;br /&gt;As my excitement builds, I tear into a box of Fire Roasted Garlic Triscuits and toss them, from a distance of seven feet, across the room at you....with every hit I shudder with lust.&lt;br /&gt;You Scream my name aloud!! I....apologize for an errant triscuit toss into your right eye.&lt;br /&gt;We then steamily embrace atop bagel pieces, turkey, dill pickle, sour patch kids, triscuits, the saved piece of cheesecake, ketchup, and mustard; we then launch into an A Capella version of Scott Joplin's "The Entertainer"&lt;br /&gt;Both thoroughly spent, we dress in matching grey overcoats, oversized sunglasses, galoshes, and exit to play in the rain.&lt;br /&gt;[The Fulfilling End]&lt;br /&gt;Was it good for you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;me:&lt;/span&gt; wonderful&lt;br /&gt;i'm really going to publish this&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-4201307805503725295?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/4201307805503725295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=4201307805503725295' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/4201307805503725295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/4201307805503725295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/happy-valentines-from-reverend.html' title='Happy Valentine&apos;s From the Reverend'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-1489751707569557393</id><published>2008-02-13T22:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T22:32:19.194-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Allergies?</title><content type='html'>i think i am allergic to life.  there cannot possibly be any allergies going around outside as the temperature is currently nipplefreezing frigid, so i don't know why i have dry, watery eyes and a stuffy nose (i am a benadryl commercial).  people at work raised the possibility that it's all the dry indoor heating i'm currently experiencing everywhere i go, which is a distinct possibility, combined with dustiness.  all i know is, it sucks.  i am actually chafing the skin under my eyes from rubbing them so vigorously in their dry dryness as they water uncontrollably (riddle me how that works).  anyway, this wraps up yet another post about my physical conditions, i know you're enthralled.  let's just say that the things i would LIKE to write about are probably not the best things to write about (i would like to not be &lt;a href="http://dooce.com/faq"&gt;dooced&lt;/a&gt;, thanks), so i am taking the moral high road and whining.  you're welcome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-1489751707569557393?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/1489751707569557393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=1489751707569557393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1489751707569557393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1489751707569557393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/allergies.html' title='Allergies?'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-3811601420611285156</id><published>2008-02-12T23:27:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T23:38:52.099-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Down Off</title><content type='html'>i didn't really mention this in all my description of the cleaning extravaganza yesterday, but my #2 job called and said because of the crummy weather i wasn't really needed, so i actually got a day off yesterday!  HOOrah!  and then, again because of the weather, i got the evening off again tonight!  HOOOOOOrah!  so while yesterday was spent being productive, tonight was spent eating breakfast for dinner at my sister's house, giving my niece her birthday presents a week late, and watching my nephew get a bath/trying to balance rubber duckies on his head.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.1worldglobes.com/images/StarterGlobeFSM_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.1worldglobes.com/images/StarterGlobeFSM_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;now my hair smells like bacon, i have gained 67 pounds eating bacon, belgian waffles, and biscuits (what an alliterative dinner), and i left my niece with her new continents puzzle proclaiming that NORF AMERICA! IS WHERE WE LIVE! AMTARTICA! IS WHERE HAPPY FEET LIVES! SOUF AMERICA!  wait what lives in souf america?  ANACONDAS!  THEY LIVE IN THE WATER!  THIS IS RUROPE!  AND THE BIG BLUE ONE! (asia)  AUSTRALIA!  I LIKE KOALAS!  that should keep my sister and brother-in-law entertained for the next couple days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-3811601420611285156?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/3811601420611285156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=3811601420611285156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3811601420611285156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3811601420611285156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/down-off.html' title='Down Off'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-1223080151819507148</id><published>2008-02-11T21:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T21:45:56.370-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So Shiny</title><content type='html'>in about two hours today i overhauled our gritty apartment.  with all old, beat-up (but rich in character) wood flooring, grit just kind of is a permanent entity in the house.  combine that with constant snow, ice, gravel, and salting outside, our floors were in pretty rough shape.  after wiping down the kitchen and dusting the living room, i decided to go ahead and vaccuum the whole shebang.  then, after getting that far, i figured i may as well go ahead and go the distance and pull out the murphy's.  an hour later and two angry trapped cats staring at me sullenly from our sunroom and i had a freshly mopped apartment and room.  it's so beautiful.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R7EWaGARC3I/AAAAAAAAAro/wwjIBAO4MgE/s1600-h/IMG_0254.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R7EWaGARC3I/AAAAAAAAAro/wwjIBAO4MgE/s200/IMG_0254.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165934885114809202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-1223080151819507148?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/1223080151819507148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=1223080151819507148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1223080151819507148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/1223080151819507148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/so-shiny.html' title='So Shiny'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R7EWaGARC3I/AAAAAAAAAro/wwjIBAO4MgE/s72-c/IMG_0254.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-8169555028353085525</id><published>2008-02-10T21:24:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T21:28:30.456-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Miss Sixty</title><content type='html'>as of today, i have hit about sixty hours of work for the week (from last monday to this sunday).  i actually feel ok after all of this besides some minor ailments: due to being in retail in both of my jobs, a lot of standing has been involved and therefore a sore back and tense shoulders have come in to play.  earlier in the week i got shin splints, which are not so much fun.  and i'm just kind of tired.  but i'm not done yet.  starting tomorrow til next sunday, i'll be working about fifty more hours before my next day off (next sunday).  send me positive vibes.  and maybe some more supportive shoes.  or a chair.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-8169555028353085525?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/8169555028353085525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=8169555028353085525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8169555028353085525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8169555028353085525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/miss-sixty.html' title='Miss Sixty'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-3327212113617209437</id><published>2008-02-09T23:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T23:07:48.843-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Zilch</title><content type='html'>as per usual, nothing exciting is currently occurring here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i found out my next day off is two sundays from now thanks to my two jobs.  this alternately sucks and rocks, or at least will rock in the future when i receive my respective checks.  right now it just kind of sucks in the man, i'm tired kind of way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am in the midst of the cider house rules and a book at work that just came in called vermeer's hat.  both very enthralling in their own ways.  i've managed to read for four hours tonight without really realizing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love my throw pillows.  they provide just the right amount of propping to keep my limbs from falling asleep in all of the awkward positions i end up reading in when in bed.  to be truly, ideally comfortable, though, i need a chaise lounge.  i will send you my address should you care to send one my way.  please include nice reading lamp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nothing provides better reading ambiance than some strong womens' voices: amy winehouse, sara bareilles, and feist are currently on a loop over here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;back to the book.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-3327212113617209437?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/3327212113617209437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=3327212113617209437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3327212113617209437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3327212113617209437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/zilch.html' title='Zilch'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2056768718032726582</id><published>2008-02-07T22:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T22:17:48.281-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Highlight of My Day</title><content type='html'>giving myself a manicure was the apex of my day today.  also that i just worked the word apex into a sentence.  what this says about my day, i will leave you to deduce.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2056768718032726582?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2056768718032726582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2056768718032726582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2056768718032726582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2056768718032726582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/highlight-of-my-day.html' title='Highlight of My Day'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-7438090820480291830</id><published>2008-02-07T00:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T00:26:25.971-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Shake it like a Polaroid Picture</title><content type='html'>i left work today jonesing for something specific.  it was a food item, of course, and was something that would make my forecasted dinner of leftover chicken tikka masala just right: naan.  i could eat approximately 27 orders of naan on my own given both the chance and some tikka masala sauce to dip it in.  it is quite possibly what the greeks spoke of as food for the gods, supposing some little indian man made his way down the future silk road and cooked them some real food in celebration (he had had enough of olives).  anyway, i made my way to the indian restaurant located about 4 blocks from my house and waited on some naan to go.  i rediscovered why i love this place when they brought me an espresso-sized mug of chai to wait with - their chai is the best around and always a good compliment to the spicy food.  the only unfortunate problem with this chai is that it registered about 300 degrees fahrenheit on my tongue.  i didn't have to wait long, and wanted to cool it, so of course i did what we've all been taught to do since childhood: i blew on it.  then i got to thinking.  does blowing on hot liquid actually work to cool it, or is it just a time killer in much the same way shaking a polaroid picture gets you nowhere fast but passes the time til the image develops?  i spent a long, hard night researching this (ok actually i just googled my question and clicked on the first link), but all i can find is that &lt;a href="http://www.school-for-champions.com/science/evaporation.htm"&gt;air passing over liquid increases the rate of evaporation&lt;/a&gt;.  does evaporation necessarily determine the temperature of a beverage?  does my questioning all of this necessarily determine my inherent levels of nerdiness?  possibly, to both.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-7438090820480291830?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/7438090820480291830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=7438090820480291830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7438090820480291830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7438090820480291830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/shake-it-like-polaroid-picture.html' title='Shake it like a Polaroid Picture'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-4565821320918874981</id><published>2008-02-05T20:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T20:59:01.925-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Encouragement</title><content type='html'>the reverend &lt;a href="http://yourneighborhoodreverend.blogspot.com/2008/02/this-is-my-life.html"&gt;writes like it's nobody's bidness&lt;/a&gt;.  go tell him to enter a contest with this post.  he doesn't really need a bigger ego, but i do what i can to pump it up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-4565821320918874981?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/4565821320918874981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=4565821320918874981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/4565821320918874981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/4565821320918874981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/encouragement.html' title='Encouragement'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2443383127181267784</id><published>2008-02-04T20:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T20:37:49.062-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Inventory</title><content type='html'>for anyone working in the retail world, the word strikes fear in your very soul.  i had inventory today from 6 am til 5 pm at the major home decor retailer that provides me my second income, and it was rough.  it could have been worse, i suppose, had not all of the merchandise been scan-able.  we were all armed with scanner guns,&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.agilitysystems.co.uk/images/p460.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.agilitysystems.co.uk/images/p460.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and swarmed over the stockroom and store like little ants to try to scan every last item of merchandise.  by the time i left at 5, we had about 98% of the merchandise scanned initially, but the auditing of our counts was only at about 10%.  i was definitely ready to be done by the time i left - i had done my portion of the duties by doing some of the more painful tasks (read: ornament table).  now i'm sore, have a semi-permanent red spot on the knuckle of my right thumb where my scan gun rested all day, and hope to never have to go through stacks upon stacks upon stacks of heavy ceramic plates again.  i may possibly go into seizures if i even see a huge stack of plates at this point in the game.  not to mention, the lamest part of the whole thing, i missed a 65 degree day from start to finish.  tomorrow it's going to snow and rain all day.  way to go, inventory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2443383127181267784?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2443383127181267784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2443383127181267784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2443383127181267784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2443383127181267784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/inventory.html' title='Inventory'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-6121147727255986763</id><published>2008-02-03T19:17:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T19:20:54.422-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Found My Drink</title><content type='html'>i feel like everyone has a signature drink they get when they're out.  something their friends can predict and pre-order for them, something they might get teased for always having but order anyway.  and i've found mine: amaretto sours.  they are the best of both worlds, with the sweet and the sour flavors.  they go down easily, don't upset my stomach (through trial and error i have discovered that vodka and my stomach, for instance, are not so much friends), and often come with pretty accoutrements like sliced oranges or cherries.  so if we ever go out to a bar together, order me this:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.stomp.com.sg/stfoodiesclub/drinks/liquiddiet/19/2898425%20_220905p20.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.stomp.com.sg/stfoodiesclub/drinks/liquiddiet/19/2898425%20_220905p20.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(not necessarily two, but that might end up happening.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-6121147727255986763?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/6121147727255986763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=6121147727255986763' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/6121147727255986763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/6121147727255986763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/ive-found-my-drink.html' title='I&apos;ve Found My Drink'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2561973799933806761</id><published>2008-02-01T23:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T23:49:32.409-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Masked</title><content type='html'>several times now i have written my posts during one of my nightly rituals: wearing my nightly face mask.  i have to let it dry on my face for ten to fifteen minutes, and it should be obvious that that's about all the time i take to write each post.  it makes my face smooth and redness free (briefly).  there is just one thing about this face mask that bothers me a little...its smell.  the active ingredient in it is, of all things, sulfur.  works like a charm for what it should do, but once you get some sulfur near your nostrils, that's all you smell.  plus (and this would go for any face mask, really) i kind of almost gag when things dry on me, like if mud dries on my hands, so every night i force myself not to dry heave when it gets dry on my face and i get all tight and crinkly and gagggggggggggggggg i need to go wash this off kbye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2561973799933806761?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2561973799933806761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2561973799933806761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2561973799933806761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2561973799933806761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/02/masked.html' title='Masked'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-8328905469168524100</id><published>2008-01-31T23:09:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T23:20:59.002-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One Fiddy!</title><content type='html'>in celebration of post #150, i'm going to represent one of my &lt;a href="http://www.mtv.com/overdrive/?artist=22821&amp;vid=81827"&gt;new favorite songs&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now every since I could remember I been poppin my collar&lt;br /&gt;Poppin poppin my collar, Poppin poppin my collar...**&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R6KqEU-AQCI/AAAAAAAAArI/ciIc6JhDSz0/s1600-h/IMG_0241.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R6KqEU-AQCI/AAAAAAAAArI/ciIc6JhDSz0/s320/IMG_0241.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161875114244980770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;**Editor's Note: i am fully aware that this picture makes many of my best friends cringe in horror, especially my &lt;a href="http://yourneighborhoodreverend.blogspot.com"&gt;illustrious boyfriend,&lt;/a&gt; but i really have been poppin my collar since....well, since i became a tried and true wellesley woman and it became part of the code of honor of the wellesley sisterhood.  plus i look haht.  don't deny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-8328905469168524100?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/8328905469168524100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=8328905469168524100' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8328905469168524100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/8328905469168524100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/01/one-fiddy.html' title='One Fiddy!'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R6KqEU-AQCI/AAAAAAAAArI/ciIc6JhDSz0/s72-c/IMG_0241.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-3832172258225148836</id><published>2008-01-30T22:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T23:03:41.987-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Back</title><content type='html'>ok i've been m.i.a. for no good reason.  i putzed around last night doing a whole lot of nothing after dinner out with my family, so i've got nothing.  just didn't post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there really isn't a whole lot going on to post about, in my lame defense.  i watch tv, i shower, i wash my face, i go to work, i sleep, i eat, i paint my nails, i chip my nails.  i talk to my boyfriend on the phone, i text message him, i make irrational demands of him (he is being awfully slow in getting me a tiger), i take him a daily picture of me so he doesn't forget what kind of hot girlfriend he has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in a follow-up to my ER visit, i have been walking around feeling like i was very possibly stabbed in my hip, but this is slowly fading.  for all i know, howard the nurse DID stab me in the hip, i didn't look.  this possibility is strong.  but i guess not that strong since when i look at my hip i just have one teeny little dot, not a bloody stab wound.  but i have my doubts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-3832172258225148836?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/3832172258225148836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=3832172258225148836' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3832172258225148836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/3832172258225148836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/01/blog-post_30.html' title='Back'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-7109285663523772884</id><published>2008-01-29T00:48:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T00:48:46.989-06:00</updated><title type='text'>-------</title><content type='html'>in a debbie downer mood tonight.  more when i don't feel like ick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-7109285663523772884?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/7109285663523772884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=7109285663523772884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7109285663523772884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7109285663523772884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/01/blog-post.html' title='-------'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-5914239818978528376</id><published>2008-01-28T00:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T00:24:47.385-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Forecast: Leafy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R511FE-AQBI/AAAAAAAAArA/snew03e-pUY/s1600-h/weather2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R511FE-AQBI/AAAAAAAAArA/snew03e-pUY/s320/weather2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160409478130057234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;on a lighter note, i'm not sure what this forecast imagery signifies, cnn, but i think i like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-5914239818978528376?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/5914239818978528376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=5914239818978528376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5914239818978528376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/5914239818978528376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/01/forecast-leafy.html' title='Forecast: Leafy'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R511FE-AQBI/AAAAAAAAArA/snew03e-pUY/s72-c/weather2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-7206995899349792200</id><published>2008-01-27T20:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T20:57:59.712-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tales of a Downtown Emergency Room</title><content type='html'>i have been known to panic myself into psychosomatic symptoms.  the week my brother-in-law died, i had bronchitis and managed to combine that with a panic attack to end up in the ER, convinced i couldn't breathe.  a breathing treatment and some time to calm down later and it was revealed that there was nothing wrong with my ability to breathe besides my ability to panic myself into not breathing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night i fell into a similar pattern.  my throat had been sore all night and getting progressively tighter as the night progressed.  at about 11:30 i tried to go to sleep, but laying down made me feel like it was almost closing, which pushed me into panicking (i know i'm panicking when i get really hot across my face, i breathe faster, and my heart starts to race).  i tried for a full hour to calm myself by various methods: watching tv, reading, putting a hot cloth against my throat to relax the muscles, talking to myself...no go.  i got to the point that i knew that i would not be able to sleep til i had a professional evaluate me and calm me mentally so i could be calm physically, so i got myself all dressed and headed to the nearest ER at  the ku medical center.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have never been to a downtown emergency room, and compared to my experiences at an overland park and a south kc emergency room, there were many quickly evident differences.  for one, i had to walk through a metal detector and get my bag searched just to get in to the ER.  a tad intimidating.  i was the only white girl there, and once admitted to triage was put through the usual questions of age, symptoms, and when my last period was (how this affects my sore throat i don't know).  but then the triage nurse asked me if i had done any drugs lately ("coke, dope, meth?") in a very monotone voice - she may as well have asked if i tied my shoes this morning, by her tone of voice.  after that she asked if i was in a domestic abuse relationship, in the same tone of voice.  never been asked either of those, and it just made me wonder what kind of answers she hears through the nights there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R51AhU-AQAI/AAAAAAAAAq4/OzF5Nwe-BdY/s1600-h/IMG_0189.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R51AhU-AQAI/AAAAAAAAAq4/OzF5Nwe-BdY/s320/IMG_0189.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160351689345089538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;once admitted i spent a long time waiting, talking to my nurse howard, talking to my doctor, and fighting my gag reflexes as they tested and tried to look for strep throat.  i also watched the style network on my in-room tv as i waited.  and waited.  finally they decided that i pretty much had strep, and that this called for a shot of antibiotics to knock it out.  i pulled my sleeve up only to hear howard apologetically tell me that we were going into the hip for this one.  he did not warn me, however, how much pain i was in for.  he just told me that the medicine was "very thick, and there is a lot of it," so i prepared myself merely for the needle prick.  that was nothing compared to the searing but dull pain that took over my whole hip and butt as he pushed the medicine into me for a solid 2-3 minutes.  i was white-knuckled and crying by the end of it.  then i was told that i needed to walk around to work it in, so i hobbled around my room, crying, trying to work through the pain.  finally it got somewhat bearable, and i was discharged.  the whole saga, start to finish, took about 1.5 hours at the ER.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went home and got ice cream to soothe my throat temporarily and was finally able to pass out.  today has been spent in bed and hobbling around the apartment feeling like i have been stabbed in the hip/ass.  if his aim was to distract me from the pain in my throat by stabbing my hip, howard succeeded.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-7206995899349792200?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/7206995899349792200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=7206995899349792200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7206995899349792200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7206995899349792200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/01/tales-of-downtown-emergency-room.html' title='Tales of a Downtown Emergency Room'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R51AhU-AQAI/AAAAAAAAAq4/OzF5Nwe-BdY/s72-c/IMG_0189.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-964108213846383866</id><published>2008-01-26T22:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T23:01:11.009-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts From a Road Trip</title><content type='html'>coolest town name in missouri: cooter.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my bladder is about the size of a quarter.  i stopped on the hour, if not more often, for most of the drive back.&lt;br /&gt;1 - 1:07 p.m.&lt;br /&gt;2 - 2:02 p.m.&lt;br /&gt;3 - 3:05 p.m.&lt;br /&gt;4 - 4:10 p.m.&lt;br /&gt;5 - 6:05 p.m.&lt;br /&gt;6 - 7:12 p.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have an irrational fear for truckers and the slim but real possibility of their getting stuck under an overpass.  then i picture a huge car pileup as everyone driving along normally behind this ill-fated truck slam into the back of it as it is wedged under the overpass in the middle of nowhere, missouri.  scary thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;several places in missouri, largely on I-70, there exists a smell for the period of a couple miles.  this smell is pervasive and quite strong.  it is the smell of beef jerky.  i am not sure if the beef jerky plants of the world are located in missouri, but it certainly smells like it.  it does not help that i rather enjoy beef jerky.  i end up craving it on every trip to memphis.  not the healthiest pattern to fall in to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-964108213846383866?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/964108213846383866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=964108213846383866' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/964108213846383866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/964108213846383866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/01/thoughts-from-road-trip.html' title='Thoughts From a Road Trip'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2647992759772881125</id><published>2008-01-25T22:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T08:24:47.235-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ate Myself Sick</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.risungsgard.com/bilder/jpg/carpaccio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.risungsgard.com/bilder/jpg/carpaccio.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some people get freaked out at the above.  it is raw beef, pounded thin, usually served with some salad, sauce, sometimes capers, and eaten as a salad or with bread or crackers.  it is called carpaccio and it is one of my favorite dishes, and it is getting increasingly hard to find since the mad cow disease scares and as people have gotten more and more paranoid about e coli.  two places serve it in kc that i know of: pierpont's in union station and brio on the plaza.  tonight my mom and i went to brio for the first time, and got The Biggest dish of carpaccio i've ever seen in my life.  i still managed to down half of it.  and it was good.  i'm totally going back there to get just that and maybe a cup of soup, because it is an immense amount of meat.  i feel very fortified with protein and iron or whatever it is raw meat can fortify you with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2647992759772881125?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2647992759772881125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2647992759772881125' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2647992759772881125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2647992759772881125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/01/ate-myself-sick.html' title='Ate Myself Sick'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-7306914156500368804</id><published>2008-01-24T22:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T22:45:34.735-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Continued</title><content type='html'>(before i get in to what happened with my extra strength mucinex, i have to make mention of two things: 1. pete washed and put clean sheets on the bed for me.  jury's out on if he ironed them or not.  2. we also went to the dixon art gallery in memphis that first day, and saw a kick a** david macaulay show of his illustrations, plus their permanent collection of impressionist works.  my bad.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my reaction was typical me.  i was floaty, detached, and unable to keep my eyes open.  pete dragged me to lunch (not that i didn't want to go, but he really had to practically carry me), and i really couldn't stay awake.  he brought me home and i promptly conked out til 4 pm, leaving pete to his own amusements on the computer and later on his guitar.  he woke me up finally by playing his guitar for me, and i got my butt in gear to get ready to go out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we hit an indian restaurant for dinner, then saw the disturbing and gory but interesting movie no country for old men.  pete got a glass of red wine at the movie, for the sheer novelty of being able to do so at studio on the square in memphis.  i finally really came out of my drugged stupor during the movie, so i was feeling much more chipper afterwards.  we decided we wanted ice cream, which we laboriously picked out and subsequently never ate.  (mayan chocolate haagen dasz, for those who are curious.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next morning i got to sleep in as pete went to work.  after his sales meeting we met up at the bagel company again for more eggels, and then i was led to the germantown public library to write down my directions to home.  then another (non-tearful!  i did it!) goodbye and i was back on the road, arriving home at 8:45 pm.  along the way i heard about heath ledger, which was like a punch in the stomach.  he was so hot and talented.  but as this entry is all about my weekend in memphis, no one is as hot or talented or pampering as my reverend, and i can't wait to go back.  his turn next to do the trip, though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-7306914156500368804?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/7306914156500368804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=7306914156500368804' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7306914156500368804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/7306914156500368804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/01/continued.html' title='Continued'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-2903146880163673958</id><published>2008-01-23T22:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T22:58:38.096-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to the Mid South</title><content type='html'>coverage of the weekend i have not heretofore covered:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i worked on saturday, a normal 10 - 6 shift.  nothing exciting to report there, except for that it finally ended and i was able to rush out and hit the road.  a quick stop at mcdonald's later and i was on my way back to memphis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everything went fine on the trip down until, on 1/19/08 at 23:20 hours at mile 126 of US-55 South in Perry County, MO, i allegedly blew by a cop car, operating my vehicle at speeds exceeding the posted speed limit.  i got a ticket.  and two warnings: a. get my driver's license changed to missouri, and b. i pulled off to the left side of the highway, which is not only apparently illegal but also quite dangerous.  so after that brief delay i was back on the road - a nice, dry road, thankfully (after snow in kansas city, i was worried about the highways) that was also decently lit by my new best friend, almostfull moon.  i pulled up at pete's at 3 a.m., tired and ready to be done driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after trudging upstairs to his room, i found these waiting for me:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R5gY0U-AP-I/AAAAAAAAAqo/4MULmBNr54Q/s1600-h/IMG_0175.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R5gY0U-AP-I/AAAAAAAAAqo/4MULmBNr54Q/s320/IMG_0175.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158900660413939682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;they were accompanied by a bottle of my favorite wine, one of my favorite scented candles burning, and a little pile of presents.  he even made the bed.  figuring i needed some pampering after the nine hour drive, he poured me a glass of wine and i set to doing my favorite thing: opening presents.  i got a beautiful new scarf, a really sweet compact mirror, and a loofah with a puppy sponge on it that i named tiger.  to say i am spoiled is an understatement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next morning we were up and ready for brunch at my favorite bagel place in memphis for EGGELS!!:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R5gZoU-AP_I/AAAAAAAAAqw/ammX3DJO5f8/s1600-h/IMG_0180.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R5gZoU-AP_I/AAAAAAAAAqw/ammX3DJO5f8/s320/IMG_0180.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158901553767137266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;fried egg, cheese, and bacon on a sundried tomato bagel.  made of awesome.  a trip to the mall and a nail salon later and then it was home for him to once again spoil me by fixing me dinner at home.  he made his specialty, marinated baked chicken, with rice, potatoes, and asparagus, accompanied by a side of french bread.  we stuffed ourselves and then, after some relaxing, headed out with his roommate and his date to a bar to play pool and have drinks for a couple hours.  my cough flared up at the bar and held strong through the night, to the point that i dragged pete to the grocery store at 2 a.m. to get something to help.  i went with the new mucinex extra strength, took one, and passed out.  did i have a reaction?  did i float off into oblivion?  did the cough stop?  tune in tomorrow when i finish my tales of another weekend in memphis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-2903146880163673958?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/2903146880163673958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=2903146880163673958' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2903146880163673958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/2903146880163673958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/01/back-to-mid-south.html' title='Back to the Mid South'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UEZi_Dez4I8/R5gY0U-AP-I/AAAAAAAAAqo/4MULmBNr54Q/s72-c/IMG_0175.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037043056110446148.post-6877794055674392029</id><published>2008-01-22T23:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T23:28:49.133-06:00</updated><title type='text'>AWOL</title><content type='html'>recovering from the 9 hour drive from memphis.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;will spend tomorrow night crafting and publishing lengthy post on my weekend there, which was magnificent as always.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;falling asleep with my eyes open.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;latahz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7037043056110446148-6877794055674392029?l=col-tempo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/feeds/6877794055674392029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7037043056110446148&amp;postID=6877794055674392029' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/6877794055674392029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7037043056110446148/posts/default/6877794055674392029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://col-tempo.blogspot.com/2008/01/awol.html' title='AWOL'/><author><name>katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00098692765930360260</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos-a.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v140/237/73/2102204/n2102204_30938224_3975.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
