<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sat, 17 Oct 2009 02:13:06 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>The Green Wallpaper</title><description>You know this boogie is for real.</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-1930528969614404919</guid><pubDate>Tue, 11 Sep 2007 15:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-09-11T08:17:49.353-07:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;strong&gt;Pissed&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I hear one more comment about Britney Spears being fat, I am going to freaking loose it.  She is NOT FAT.  She actually looks pretty and womanly.  She is very fit and any of her stomach sticking out is muscle that she just isn't sucking in at that moment.  People are sick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-1930528969614404919?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2007/09/pissed-if-i-hear-one-more-comment-about.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-1867763981554436561</guid><pubDate>Fri, 24 Aug 2007 20:38:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-11T08:47:21.992-08:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hola&lt;/span&gt;, Come &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Estas&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello there! I never write, and I figure the only people who read this are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Rach&lt;/span&gt; and Jackie. Unfortunately, I have no fun baby news to report except that I am anxiously awaiting the reveal of the gender of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mimsies&lt;/span&gt;' groundhog. All my friends having babies lately gave me major baby fever for awhile. I just felt so behind. I have only know the love of my life and future baby &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;daddy&lt;/span&gt; for 1 year and 10months. No one believes me when I say this, even our close friends that we see every week. We have been living together for 1 year and 3 months. It sounds so bad when you right it out like that. Like we raced into things, but we didn't. It just worked and it only continues to work better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So blah &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;blaah&lt;/span&gt; blah...I am in a perfect relationship. Nothing to interesting to read about there. I do miss my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Mimsies&lt;/span&gt; and hopefully she, Cori and I will be taking a trip soon to Arkansas! I guess I need to just write more if anyone is interested. I have a million funny stories I could tell about my mom, the cats, work, let me think of a particular one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! My mom visited a psychic. Apparently she has seen this woman before several years ago and the things she predicted came true. I think actually only one of the things came true but that is all my mom remembers. So, she calls me up and reports that Chris and I are going to move to Chicago and then move back here to Dallas, and then have babies. Also, I am going to become a famous scientist. I am a Research Assistant people. This is basically code for glorified manual labor. I have no PhD and therefore NO scientific &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;credibility&lt;/span&gt;. And, remembering this, I am also pretty sure my mom went to a psychic when I was in high school and she said that I was going to be a famous model! HA! If modeling at Auburn University's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Bloopers&lt;/span&gt; intermission counts as famous, then she hit it on the money!!! Basically the reasons that this is funny for a second to me and then just sad is because my mom has very little money and still participates in these shenanigans. (I just had to look up how to spell that word...but I am TOTALLY going to be a famous scientist).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't that funny...I know. I will do better next time. Here's a picture of when I thought I could be a model.  I still have those jeans...hell if I've worn them in the past four years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-7BMBB8fIY/Rs9GPIvpMeI/AAAAAAAAAA0/p4S-OOcFvug/s1600-h/brownshirt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102374128693359074" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-7BMBB8fIY/Rs9GPIvpMeI/AAAAAAAAAA0/p4S-OOcFvug/s320/brownshirt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-7BMBB8fIY/Rs9GPIvpMeI/AAAAAAAAAA0/p4S-OOcFvug/s1600-h/brownshirt.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-7BMBB8fIY/Rs9GPIvpMeI/AAAAAAAAAA0/p4S-OOcFvug/s1600-h/brownshirt.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-1867763981554436561?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2007/08/hola-come-estas-hello-there-i-never.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-7BMBB8fIY/Rs9GPIvpMeI/AAAAAAAAAA0/p4S-OOcFvug/s72-c/brownshirt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-5148593958024515972</guid><pubDate>Mon, 18 Jun 2007 16:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-11T08:47:22.697-08:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;strong&gt;Napa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris and I took a fabulous trip to Napa (and then San Francisco) about a month ago and here are my favorite pictures from the trip! We went for a wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is at the rehersal dinner at the Arteza winery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-7BMBB8fIY/Rna0lru4V3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AT3NlX8Boj0/s1600-h/Picture+107.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077444189394327410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-7BMBB8fIY/Rna0lru4V3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AT3NlX8Boj0/s320/Picture+107.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The groom and my hot hippie boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-7BMBB8fIY/Rna0lru4V4I/AAAAAAAAAAU/aWpdO1na3KA/s1600-h/Picture+051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077444189394327426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-7BMBB8fIY/Rna0lru4V4I/AAAAAAAAAAU/aWpdO1na3KA/s320/Picture+051.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-7BMBB8fIY/Rna2Abu4V5I/AAAAAAAAAAc/tSmgqTx23CA/s1600-h/Picture+215.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;At the Sterling Vineyard&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-7BMBB8fIY/Rna2Abu4V5I/AAAAAAAAAAc/tSmgqTx23CA/s1600-h/Picture+215.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077445748467455890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-7BMBB8fIY/Rna2Abu4V5I/AAAAAAAAAAc/tSmgqTx23CA/s320/Picture+215.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wine Snob&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-7BMBB8fIY/Rna2Abu4V6I/AAAAAAAAAAk/V9BsNoIEsgk/s1600-h/Picture+211.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077445748467455906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-7BMBB8fIY/Rna2Abu4V6I/AAAAAAAAAAk/V9BsNoIEsgk/s320/Picture+211.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come of San Francisco!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-5148593958024515972?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2007/06/napa-chris-and-i-took-fabulous-trip-to.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-7BMBB8fIY/Rna0lru4V3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AT3NlX8Boj0/s72-c/Picture+107.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-8331679082645426052</guid><pubDate>Fri, 15 Jun 2007 20:12:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-06-15T13:13:57.487-07:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>You pretty thing,&lt;br /&gt;Let me buy you a wedding ring,&lt;br /&gt;Let me hear the choir sing,&lt;br /&gt;Oh you pretty thing.&lt;br /&gt;You pretty thing,&lt;br /&gt;Let me walk you down the aisle,&lt;br /&gt;Darlin' wear a lover's smile,&lt;br /&gt;Oh you pretty thing.&lt;br /&gt;Let me kiss you again,&lt;br /&gt;Squeeze and hold you tight,&lt;br /&gt;Let me give all my love,&lt;br /&gt;The rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;You pretty thing,&lt;br /&gt;Let me hold you by my side,&lt;br /&gt;And become my blushing bride,&lt;br /&gt;You pretty thing,&lt;br /&gt;Pretty thing,&lt;br /&gt;Let me dedicate my life,&lt;br /&gt;You will always be my wife,&lt;br /&gt;Oh you pretty thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-8331679082645426052?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2007/06/you-pretty-thing-let-me-buy-you-wedding.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-7502709134551409632</guid><pubDate>Tue, 10 Apr 2007 17:14:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-04-10T10:16:17.128-07:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;strong&gt;MASTER CLEANSE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, has anyone heard of this?  I started it this morning.  Basically, you drink lemon, water, cayanne pepper and grade B maple syrup all day long.  FOR 10 DAYS MINIMUM. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know; I'm crazy.  I'm scared and crazy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far I feel ok though.  I have had three glasses of the stuff and no solid food.  I have a major caffeine headache but that is to be expected.  I will let you know how it goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-7502709134551409632?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2007/04/master-cleanse-so-has-anyone-heard-of.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-117121868530960056</guid><pubDate>Sun, 11 Feb 2007 18:28:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-02-11T10:31:25.320-08:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I Finally Have the Internet at Home!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and this is what I choose to post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3487/395/1600/277400/IMG_1517.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3487/395/320/315927/IMG_1517.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Rachel (Mimsies) and I in Fourth grade.  Hot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-117121868530960056?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-finally-have-internet-at-home.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-117010007367389863</guid><pubDate>Mon, 29 Jan 2007 19:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-01-29T11:47:53.683-08:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;strong&gt;Surprise, Surprise&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another post!  I really don't have much to report.  My mom and I went shopping yesterday for a belated birthday outting together.  We spent most of our time in Neiman Marcus pretending we could afford some lip gloss from there.  I remember when I was little and I actually had a closet full of clothes from Neimans.  Weird.  I just can't bring myself to spend any money on frivilous things right now.  I am trying to pay off college debt.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, so I can't find any information on this on the internet.  (Well, nothing I like the sound of.)  Yesterday, I was in the shower and my nipples starting burning/stinging so BADLY!  I had to get out of the shower so the water would stop hitting them.  What in the world is this?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a loverly dinner with Chris' parents and my mom last night in our dining room.  I am so happy we bought the table.  It makes the house seem like a home.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, that's all.  Outtie 5,000.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-117010007367389863?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2007/01/surprise-surprise-another-post-i.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-116957814466684211</guid><pubDate>Tue, 23 Jan 2007 18:44:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-01-23T10:49:04.686-08:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;strong&gt;Still Annoyed That I Do Not Have Title Section&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So basically, just wanted to write to say that I am thrilled to pieces that Rachel and Jared are moving closer to me!!!!  I have already begun convincing Chris how much he will love camping (he's never been) and hiking and most of all driving to Arkansas once a month!  Yea!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My birthday was great!  Thank you Rach for the post.  I have some old pictures that you would kill me for putting up.  I will as soon as I can get my computer to work and then put internet on it.  I am super lazy.  Actually, I have been trying desperately to get myself addicted to exercise.  I weigh about 15 pounds more than I'm used to and things are moving around to different areas.  I also appear to be getting jowls.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOWLS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not making this up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-116957814466684211?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2007/01/still-annoyed-that-i-do-not-have-title.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-116459170803337513</guid><pubDate>Mon, 27 Nov 2006 01:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-11-26T17:52:22.456-08:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>Very Late But Better Than Never Halloween...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3487/395/1600/804590/IMG_1464.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3487/395/320/898574/IMG_1464.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Willis and Elida!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3487/395/1600/989148/IMG_1474.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3487/395/320/224949/IMG_1474.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very Nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3487/395/1600/917336/IMG_1463.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3487/395/320/161659/IMG_1463.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me (#4 Prostitute in ALL of Kasistan) and my cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3487/395/1600/743042/IMG_1486.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3487/395/320/878732/IMG_1486.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3487/395/1600/119072/IMG_1475.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3487/395/320/122278/IMG_1475.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-116459170803337513?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2006/11/very-late-but-better-than-never.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-116403797351660254</guid><pubDate>Mon, 20 Nov 2006 15:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-11-20T07:52:53.566-08:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3487/395/1600/IMG_1436.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3487/395/320/IMG_1436.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are our Halloween pumpkins!  Better late than never.  The kitty is mine, and the really scary one is Chris'.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3487/395/1600/IMG_1451.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3487/395/320/IMG_1451.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Garage Sale Fairy!!!  When no one is buying, the Garage Sale Fairy grows displeased.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-116403797351660254?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2006/11/here-are-our-halloween-pumpkins-better.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-116293835440571818</guid><pubDate>Tue, 07 Nov 2006 22:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-11-07T14:25:54.420-08:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>I am out of control.  I have now bought 4 pairs of shoes (granted they are from Payless) in the past 24 hours.  Before that, I bought two dresses, a skirt, and a shirt.  This all seems rather harmless if you don't consider the fact that I had just told myself not to buy anything.  (oh and i bought some panties)  Speaking of PANTIES, I love this word.  I am pretty sure Rachel hates it so I am sorry if this is torture, but I even call Chris's boxers PANTIES.  I just think it is the most funny word.  He corrects me everytime like I made a mistake.  This just makes me do it more.  PANTIES, PANTIES, PANTIES.  Women wear panties not underwear.  I could maybe accept undies.  I guess I just want my undergarments to sound cute.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to see Borat last night.  OH MY GOSH.  If you have seen it, then you know exactly the sceen that almost did me in.  It is as if the sceen will never end.  As a whole I loved it.  It is hard to take at moments when you realize that whether some of the people are acting or not there are Americans that would say those things.  Go see it but don't say I told you so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ta Ta...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-116293835440571818?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-am-out-of-control.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-116283405925287140</guid><pubDate>Mon, 06 Nov 2006 17:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-11-06T09:27:39.266-08:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3487/395/1600/288231936_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3487/395/320/288231936_l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, apparently there has been some gossip going around that I don't post...EVER.  And I tell you, you're completely right.  I suck.  I want so badly to be a part of this community but the lack of internet at home (and my laziness that has allowed this) makes blogging difficult!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Product Endorsement:  Mr. Clean Magic Eraser.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am certainly not the first to ADORE this product.  Rachel blogged about it a year ago.  It truly made our kitchen livable.  The previous owners put in circa 1990 black and white checkered linoleum that I hate but does &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;go&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; with the kitchen.  We have been dying to replace it with slate (and we will) but just don't have the money right now.  The white tiles are disgusting and scuffed and nothing I did would help.  I used products with bleach and endless scrubbing with different types of sponges but NOTHING.  Then, I used the ERASER....drum roll please.  The tiles are perfect.  It was the most satisfying cleaning I have ever done!  Chris and I both spent about an hour working on the floor and it looks brand new!  I only wish I had a before and after picture!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise to post better and include pictures!  Until then don't forget about me =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-116283405925287140?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2006/11/well-apparently-there-has-been-some.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-115877053587253601</guid><pubDate>Wed, 20 Sep 2006 16:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-09-20T09:42:15.880-07:00</atom:updated><title>Rosie</title><description>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/58927823@N00/248334707/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/95/248334707_f509d14247_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/58927823@N00/248334707/"&gt;Rosie&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/58927823@N00/"&gt;sasha_camille&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I GOT A BIKE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris surprised me with an early anniversary present last night:  an Electra Cruiser Rosie bike.  He got one too, a Hellbilly from the same website.  We had so much fun on our very first bike ride last night.  Two of his best friends have houses in the same neighborhood so we biked over there last night.  Everything went well except for HILLS.  I had to walk a few.  I am so out of shape!  Oh, my bike has a bell and a basket that was added!  I feel like I need to wear a dress with a cardigan sweater over it.  It is so fifties; I love it!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better pictures with us on them to come!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-115877053587253601?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2006/09/rosie.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-115835644707545738</guid><pubDate>Fri, 15 Sep 2006 21:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-09-15T14:40:47.093-07:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>I don't seem to have a section for "Title" like I used to, so here it is: &lt;strong&gt;The Move&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would think that the most stressful part of moving in with your boyfriend would be the part about moving in with your boyfriend. In all honesty, this is the easy part. The obstacles that we have encountered mostly include the cats (yes, plural).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris acquired two cats during his last (and longest) relationship. They are both girls and both around 6 years old. My cat is a ginormous boy kitty that is only 2. He was also a "gift" (I stole him) from my ex. In short, they hate each other. Zulu actually moved in three months ago, while I am officially moving in this weekend. We followed every instruction on how to acclimate them to one another that we could find. The hissing and the fur flying still continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zulu is now on Prozac. Apparently he is OCD about pouncing on the ladies. Mind you he &lt;em&gt;has&lt;/em&gt; had his furry little balls removed, but he still wants to play. So far, he is just drugged up enough for us to actually sleep at night. He is changing though. He certainly isn't as affectionate and he is terrified of me trying to get him and shove a syringe down his throat. I told Chris we were blessed by having our parents adore one another so we had to have some trouble. He thought this was funny until a cat (who will remain nameless) peed on the couch...then the bed. Oh and on a side note: all this happened while we were trying to get out of town, and I decided to make things worse by washing all of his clothes with a tube of lipstick. Love really is patient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, the kitties will learn to coexist. Chris gutted the couch and bought a new mattress so they better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-115835644707545738?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-dont-seem-to-have-section-for-title.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-115827199693738720</guid><pubDate>Thu, 14 Sep 2006 22:02:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-11-15T19:40:02.006-08:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>1. I am 5'8", have brown hair and green eyes. I would like to pretend that I didn't have freckles all over my body, but alas, I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I have a kitty named Zulu. I call him BoBoZu most of the time. This has turned into me calling everything I find cute BoBoZu, including my boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. My kitten is a little boy but I still call him Princess. It is just easier to say that prince and it isn't as if he knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I work as a Research Assistant in an Immunology Research Institute. I do mostly breast cancer work. Most of the time I really enjoy it, but it is still a "dead end job" because I don't have my doctorate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I have met the love of my life. He is everything I never knew I could have or deserved. I am seriously amazed everyday (several times a day) at how good he is and how precious and true he is to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. He's hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. My dad died of melanoma of the brain when I was nine and he was 54. He was only sick for six months. I remember walking in the house and my mom rubbing some kind of purple "miracle cure" on his bald head and crying. The doctors said there was nothing we could do. It makes me angry when I hear about people surviving cancer sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Mimsies is my very best friend still even though I barely talk to her. I miss her all the time and pretend we talk sometimes. I just know that we can always pick up wherever we left off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I pick my nose. I think it is stupid that people go through all the trouble to try to shove tissue up there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. People who can't type annoy me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I am super sensitive. I don't like being "joked" with about mean stuff. I think that it is just mean. Can't you find something actually funny to say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I have ketosis pilloris on the backs of my arms. Over 70% of the population has it to varying degrees. This somehow makes me feel better about the disgusting of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. I am a major pimple/small, unseen bump picker. So much so that Mimsies has sent me articles on how to stop picking, etc. I even got in a wreck a few years ago because I was busy picking a bump on the back of my arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. She used to call me Olive Oil in high school because my arms were so skinny. I hated it! I actually took weight gainers in high school. I wish I could undo that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. I really hate and love the fact that women are treated differently (well at least I am) when I have make-up versus when I do not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. I have taken anti-depressants for five years. They are highly addictive. I have tried more times than I care to count to get off of them. I can't. This is actually the only thing depressing in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. I sing SUPER loud in my car by myself. So much so, that I am often very hoarse when I arrive home. I also say weird phrases aloud to myself and crack myself up. I am an only child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. I have a crooked nose. I fantasize about getting it fixed, but I really wouldn't want the shape changed just the crookedness. It never bothered me until this bitchy girl in high school was sitting below me and looked up and screamed, "Oh my God, what is wrong with your nose!" I mean seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. I took voice lessons for 7 years. I wish I had actually done something with this. I mean I realize my life isn't over (I am only 26). I just seriously don't want to be famous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. I want to be famous sometimes. I just feel like I can sing just as good as all those other famous people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. I hate mouth noises. Slurping, smacking, chewing, you name it just keep your mouth closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. The worst pain I have ever been in is when I had a bladder infection. Urine is not supposed to be red. Seriously folks, pee after you have sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. My favorite smell is freshly cut cucumbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. In high school, I worked at the GAP and wore a size 1 long jean. They were baggy on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. I got boobs in sixth grade. This was very embarrassing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. I also had braces and a spiral perm. I wore these really bright gold dangle earrings and a denim jacket every day. We weren't allowed to wear make-up at my school so my friend and I would wear it and pretend we forgot to wash our faces from the night before. This never worked. Probably due to the fact that we were trying to wear gold eyeshadow and navy blue mascara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. My favorite color is green. I buy everything green or greenish blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. I spend a lot of time thinking of my future children's names. I have done this my whole life. I just think names are really important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. I am very sickly. I take good care of myself, but it seems like I get some sort of aliment at least once a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. I like hairy men. Not crazy hairy or anything. I just think it is so gross when a guy shaves his chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. The worst job I have ever had was cleaning out mouse cages at a research facility. It looked good on my resume, but it was utterly disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. I love campy horror films.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. I am a weirdly competitive shopper. I hate shopping when there are a lot of other women around because I feel like they are getting my stuff. I get all anxiety ridden and rush around. I usually just end up leaving the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. I am a total snob about parking at the mall. I will not park at Sears or JCPenny's. I want to park at either Neiman Marcus or Nordstrom's and walk though them. This comes directly from my mother. It does smell strange in Sears though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. I love beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. I absolutely hate driving in the rain or knowing that anyone of my loved ones are driving in the rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. I take it really personally when my cat doesn't want to come snuggle with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. I love wearing heels. Even though I am technically tall, I feel short when I wear flats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. I cannot run. I apparently run like a deer that's been shot, so part of it is me trying to not totally embarrass myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. I will not eat button mushrooms, boiled okra, or water chestnuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. I love sushi, Indian food, Thai food, Mexican food, all food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. I love cushy, green grass. I love to walk around barefoot in it in the fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43. I never want to go back to school. I was thrilled to be done with college and never want to go back again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. I was in a sorority (oh excuse me, I am &lt;em&gt;in&lt;/em&gt; a sorority), and it was/is dumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45. My favorite parts of college were skipping class, road trips, and football games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46. One of my jobs in college was to pick out microscopic crustaceans out of lake sediment. It was miserable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47. I want to take Karate, learn to make stain-glass, and ride a horse on the beach before I die.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48.  I have to drink coffee in the morning.  It usually makes my stomach hurt, but if I don't drink it I am a total space cadet.  I actually switched to green tea for a two month period which resulted in horrible headaches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49. Pistachios are my favorite nut.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50. I talk during movies really badly.  I usually don't even realize I'm doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;51. I was born in Flowood, Mississippi.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52. I am becoming more introverted every year of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;53. I have pointed "elf" ears like my grandpa's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;54. It is very hard for me to relinquish the TV remote.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55. I have to force myself to wash my face, brush my teeth and maybe take my contacts out every night.  You would think this would be a habit by now.  It isn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;56. I hate coughing.  I hate it when other people cough because it sounds like they are going to explode and this disturbs me, and when I cough I feel all guilty for driving other people crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;57.  I have stayed home more times that I would like to admit because my face is broken out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;58.  My great-grandmother was the first lingerie model.  She also had seven husbands and was a "bad" woman according to my mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59.  I used to spend money on really silly stuff at Target and various other bargain stores.  Now I just walk around with the items I want to buy for a little while and this seems to ease the pain of me not buying them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;60.  I want to get a tattoo someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;61.  I'm really good at directions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;62.  I broke up with this guy in college because of his Halloween costume.  He went to another school and when he told me that he had ended up going as "Super Dick" with a stuffed pantyhose leg between his legs and a cape, I knew that I just couldn't be dating "That Guy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;63.  I also broke up with some guy in high school when he told me that he didn't care about a burn I had on my leg.  I think I said something like, "Fine, I will go call someone who cares!!"  (Rachel it was Shae just in case you were wondering).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64.  This list is taking me entirely too long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;65.  I have allergies.  I keep thinking they will go away.  My biggest fear is that someday I will have to have roach injected into my back. (they seriously do this).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;66.  I sucked my thumb until I was eight years old.  My mother tied my arm to the bedpost at night to break me of the habit.  SERIOUSLY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;67.  I have very vivid dreams.  Usually they are nightmares, by nightmares I mean something is happening that is upsetting me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;68.  I have never had my fortune told.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;69.  I think it is cute when people snort when they laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;70.  My favorite compliment that I have ever received is that I am radiant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;71.  I love my friends.  Love them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;72.  Breakfast is my favorite meal.  I love it when restaurants serve breakfast all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;73.  If I hear, smell or see throw-up, I will throw-up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;74.  I have to get really mad at a bug to kill it.  I have to work myself up and then stomp on it and run away.  I can barely stand to have anyone pick it up when I am in the room because I am terrified that they will chase me with it.  I have to privately go in the other room.  I am a pansy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;75.  I do not like the French language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;76.  I think I am pregnant every month (even though I don't want to be) and then when I get my period I think I am infertile.  crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;77.  I choose my chips and crackers from bowls very carefully.  They have to look just right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;78.  I really love hip-hop music.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;79.  My favorite pie is pumpkin pie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;80.  When I was little and I bit my nails, I thought that they were piling up somewhere inside me growing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;81.  &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Top Secret&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; was my favorite book when I was younger.  It is about this little boy who turns himself into a plant for his science fair by drinking some concoction of liver and dirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;82.  I never realized that you really do cry when you're happy until I met Chris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;83.  I love my mother.  I complain alot that she lives 45 minutes away.  Then I feel silly because that is so close compared to what some people have to deal with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;84.  I cannot sleep with music on or the TV on.  I have to have complete silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;85.  I am getting grey hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;86.  I spit when I talk.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;87.  Chips and hot sauce at Chili's is still one of my favorite foods.  My mom and I always go get it together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;88.  I don't understand outie bellybuttons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;89.  Max Factor 2000 Calorie mascara is the only one I will use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;90.  I want to be done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-115827199693738720?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2006/09/1.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-115825159563101442</guid><pubDate>Thu, 14 Sep 2006 16:27:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-09-14T09:33:15.640-07:00</atom:updated><title>Our First Picture</title><description>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/58927823@N00/243206777/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/88/243206777_05e78ece6c_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/58927823@N00/243206777/"&gt;art show&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/58927823@N00/"&gt;sasha_camille&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-115825159563101442?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2006/09/our-first-picture.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-115825123667864610</guid><pubDate>Thu, 14 Sep 2006 16:21:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-09-14T09:27:16.723-07:00</atom:updated><title>chris and sasha</title><description>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/58927823@N00/243201837/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/94/243201837_fa5af6c19e_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/58927823@N00/243201837/"&gt;chris and sasha&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/58927823@N00/"&gt;sasha_camille&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is the boy I am moving in with.  Well, actually, we have lived together for about four months now; I am just getting rid of my apartment this month.  Isn't he cute!  His name is Chris and we pretty much live the most blissful life I can imagine.  The only way I could be happier is knowing that we had been together longer =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will post more pictures soon!  I just signed up for Flickr.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-115825123667864610?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2006/09/chris-and-sasha.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13823180.post-115799423056491305</guid><pubDate>Mon, 11 Sep 2006 17:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-09-11T10:03:50.576-07:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>I am offically blogging again.  I am even going to have internet at my house (our house).  Yep, that's right, I am moving in with a &lt;em&gt;boy&lt;/em&gt;.  Something I said I would never do, but I honestly just can't help myself (more on that later).  I just want to make sure Mimsies adds me back to her link page and forgives me for being the worst friend ever and not calling her on her birthday.  I am saving my money to come visit you woman so please don't hate me too much =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am writing another 100 Things to kick off The Yellow Wallpaper.  Come back and visit please!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13823180-115799423056491305?l=ywallpaper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://ywallpaper.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-am-offically-blogging-again.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Sasha)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item></channel></rss>