<?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-13450472</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:04:54.522-07:00</updated><title type='text'>these are but wild and whirling words</title><subtitle type='html'>i need an outlet</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>186</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-116642887989244154</id><published>2006-12-17T23:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T00:01:19.930-08:00</updated><title type='text'>returning after a 2 month hiatus...</title><content type='html'>i got busy.  what can i say? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;unfortunately, not much is new in my life that wasn't new last i posted.  i'm headed home for the holidays tomorrow, to bake cookies and grumble about christmas for another  year (i'm not entirely a huge fan of christmas for reasons i can't quite explain.)  finals week sucked the life out of me by scheduling five exams (three in class and two take-home essays) and a paper in 2 days (that was cruel and unusual punishment for SOMETHING), and now i'm lounging around my apartment knitting and watching mythbusters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;though neither of these are especially recent creations, they are projects i actually have pictures of, and i can at least use these as testiment to what i've been up to lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. ballet shoe/outfit bag for my 7yr old cousin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4348/1182/1600/179344/knitting%20014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4348/1182/200/767451/knitting%20014.jpg" alt="" 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;and the interior&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4348/1182/1600/958299/knitting%20015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4348/1182/200/564097/knitting%20015.jpg" alt="" 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;2. a crocheted mario to look over the kingdom of my knitting basket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4348/1182/1600/108691/knitting%20009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/4348/1182/200/799494/knitting%20009.jpg" alt="" 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;i've also made a purse or two based on &lt;a href="http://margretnicole.com/banglebags/"&gt;this &lt;/a&gt;design, except i'm not selling it for 2oo dollars...that is just silly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, it is just me, my parents and my knitting needles for the next month...my boyfriend just left for india yesterday, and i pick him up from the airport on january 12th.  i miss him already!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;schoolwise things are going really well...i met a ton of great people this semester, and actually (gasp!) made some friends.  i'm still not convinced i want to teach, but i'm safeguarding against that by applying for graduate schools.  top three on the list?  university of illinois, university of iowa, and minnesota.  who knew the big ten was so prolific in their linguistics programs?  i'd love to go back to iowa city, but u of illinois is definitely top of the list.  minnesota is at the bottom of the three, simply because every other school is in california or new mexico, and i really do want to stay close to my family (small though my family is) and friends.  and snow.  i really do like snow.  i can't help it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and, that's it. &lt;br /&gt;next semester i am taking two classes that actually have me in a classroom teaching real live kiddies...that is a nauseating prospect, but i'm sure i'll do fine.  which means i probably won't be posting.  the majority of this blog existed in 2005 - which was, in respect to my love life and mental health, the worst year to date.  i think that's the reason i kept this blog...to empty my head and stay relatively sane, and that held over into my first semester and summer back to school.  my life feels pretty under control now, and i'm very happy...so i doubt i'll post as often as i did.  i'll make an effort, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, highlight of the fall semester:&lt;br /&gt;being called "intellectually threatening" not once, but FIVE TIMES.  i'm well on my way to being a stuffy academic.  go me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the meantime, happy saturnalia, modranect, yule, and whatever other pagan festivals can still be found in modern day christmas festivities...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-116642887989244154?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/116642887989244154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=116642887989244154' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/116642887989244154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/116642887989244154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/12/returning-after-2-month-hiatus.html' title='returning after a 2 month hiatus...'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-116072853291512096</id><published>2006-10-13T01:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-13T01:35:32.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i was amused</title><content type='html'>new jetta+nigel tufnel+'my amp has airbags!'=amusing volkswagon commercial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i'm going to watch spinal tap now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-116072853291512096?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/116072853291512096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=116072853291512096' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/116072853291512096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/116072853291512096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-was-amused.html' title='i was amused'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-115994387843492924</id><published>2006-10-03T23:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-03T23:37:58.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a few thoughts before bed</title><content type='html'>i'm working on a research paper - i think it is about tailoring a unit of study to a high school english class.  i'm not sure, my teacher enjoys being vague and gets upset when we question her.  the unit must incorporate some sort of grammar, as well as a primary source of literature and a few secondary sources.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my primary source is 1984, with the grammar unit being a lesson in newspeak (the language that is meant to stamp out independent thought), and the secondary theme of the unit will be an awareness of political and consumer rhetoric.  when i was searching for materials, i found a lot of sources from the late 80s, because apparently the word propaganda is not the 'it word' anymore...it had a different word now.  (which, for those of you who are familiar with 'orwellian terms' is disturbing unto itself.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1984 revolves around the principle that 'those who control the past, control the present, and those who control the present, control the future'.  this being said, whenever oceania (one of the three superpowers in the novel) redirects it's fury from superpower a to superpower b, there is a flurry of activity while all historical records are changed so that whatever superpower oceania is fighting presently is the superpower oceania has always been fighting.  (the citizens must then forget that oceania was ever allied with superpower a, and must now know that they are at war with superpower a, then forget being conscious of that switch, and believe that they were always at war with superpower a).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway.&lt;br /&gt;like i said, a lot of my research for this paper is coming from sources in the late 80s.  and a lot of my sources talk about president bush and the war in iraq.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;coming straight off of reading what i just summarized, i found it highly unsettling that nearly 20 years later i am reading the same words i can find in any current news source.  it's like someone has already gone back through the historical records and changed the names and places, so what i'm reading is as it has always been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of course i am not a conspiracy theorist.  &lt;br /&gt;i just think it is weird, and want to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, i have mystery pains in my legs that feel an awful lot like shin splints, though i have no clue where they could have come from.&lt;br /&gt;and, i owe my parents an apology for all the times they told me i was smart, but i just didn't apply myself, and i didn't believe them.  apparently when you take away beer and a social life, i wind up in the top 15% of my class, with an invitation to the golden key society.  (i find these two things almost as weird as the aforementioned weirdness, but not quite.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's bedtime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-115994387843492924?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/115994387843492924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=115994387843492924' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115994387843492924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115994387843492924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/10/few-thoughts-before-bed.html' title='a few thoughts before bed'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-115772978202863227</id><published>2006-09-08T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T08:36:22.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i was thinking of posting the highlights of the weekend</title><content type='html'>and then i realized it was friday.  (hooray!) so, i'm posting the highlights of the weekend and this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to start, labor day weekend was most excellent.&lt;br /&gt;i got birthday presents from my parents in the way of a 200 dollar shopping spree!  with that my mother and i scoured woodfield mall (the mall of malls in the chicago area) for clothes that not only make me look like a grown up, but a sexy grown up.  we settled on lots of tailored button down shirts, cute tshirts and blazers.  and one pair of jeans that make me look tall and skinny.  and i didn't buy one sweater...for anyone who knows of my sweater addiction, this is a big deal for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in between trips to the woodfield mall (i needed two), i had lunch, coffee and a trip to the local mall with red, which was lovely...hooray for highschool-like trips to the mall with an old friend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this week flew by, despite my predictions that even with monday off it would drag.  i think it only flew by, however, to bring next week closer.  (i have an exam and a project due.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night i went to the first equestrian club meeting, which was a lot of fun and i met some really nice girls.  they talked about some upcoming events, including a bonfire out at the barn, and a hayride, and lots of trails rides in the fall when it gets a bit cooler out.  the club is connected with the riding teams, of which there are three: dressage, hunt seat, and western.  i think after a semester or two of lessons i'd like to try out for the hunt seat or dressage teams - i used to be pretty good at hunt seat, and while i took lessons at iowa i did quite a bit of work with dressage.  all three teams travel as well - i think it would be a lot of fun to get involved with the team, even if i only did it for a short while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats about it.  &lt;br /&gt;was there a point to that post?  probably not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-115772978202863227?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/115772978202863227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=115772978202863227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115772978202863227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115772978202863227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-was-thinking-of-posting-highlights.html' title='i was thinking of posting the highlights of the weekend'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-115680264426730772</id><published>2006-08-28T14:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T22:36:37.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and i'm getting PAID to do it!</title><content type='html'>my boss plays the guitar and sings.  the curator plays bass and guitar and drums.  i play bass and various horns.  the registrar plays drums.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this, of course, means we have a gallery ensemble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm trying to push them towards music by cake, so the curator and i don't have to fight over who plays bass on what song (cake features a trumpet in most of their songs) - (or at least 'you can't always get what you want' by the stones...it has a horn solo)but today we spent two hours playing around with stones, dylan and velvet underground stuff.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was a lot of fun, and i'm really glad to be playing - i guess we are going to get a few tunes together and give a concert around halloween.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this just seemed noteworthy.  i'm really really happy to be playing again - playing ANYTHING, considering i played horn and bass all through college then suddenly stopped when i graduated.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-115680264426730772?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/115680264426730772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=115680264426730772' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115680264426730772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115680264426730772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/08/and-im-getting-paid-to-do-it.html' title='and i&apos;m getting PAID to do it!'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-115647784131662293</id><published>2006-08-24T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-24T21:04:43.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>birthday post</title><content type='html'>between this post...and the last post...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i swear, i'm not bipolar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today i was wonderfully suprised by the people who emailed me, or imed me, or facebook wall-ed me to wish me happy birthday.  i expected calls from my parents and grandparents...but thats about it.  everything else was happily unexpected.  i even got actual phone calls from people! my friend dave, with whom i talk every few months, called tonight, and my friend joe (who is off somewhere training for his new job) called as well.  and sid, of course :).  i get into this funk, where i swear no one cares at all, and then my birthday comes around and reminds me that people do care if i'm here or not.  people i haven't talked to in forever, through some circumstance or another, come out of the woodwork and let me know they are thinking about me, if only for a moment.  it is the best of warm fuzzy feelings.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm writing this in my blog mostly for my own benefit...so when i have nights like the last post, where i wrap myself in self pity and wallow in it...i can snap out of it and stop feeling sorry for myself.  (i am very, very good at feeling sorry for myself).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, classes have started.  i like most of them, except for poetry (but i just don't like poetry)...and i love my linguistics classes, 'traditional and nontraditional grammars' and 'growth and development of the english language'.  the fact that these classes excite me prods me again to pursue linguistics as a career.     and reminds me that i'm a nerd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-115647784131662293?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/115647784131662293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=115647784131662293' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115647784131662293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115647784131662293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/08/birthday-post.html' title='birthday post'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-115579945682066860</id><published>2006-08-17T00:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-17T00:24:16.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>but then again, no...</title><content type='html'>i wish i was an artist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on nights like these, when i feel suffocated, restless, mysteriously hurt and  crushingly morose...i wish i had an outlet, something more than words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my words are stark and honest.  if i try to hide in them, i sound ridiculous.  i want to hide in art.  i want to pour my mind onto a canvas, and invite others to come and look closer...find out what is there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate that i sit down with a pencil and a blank page, and all that comes forth are lines.  doodles.  little boxes, little circles, nothing that represents me.  i want to gather all the hope, and love and hurt and disappointment - the stuff that clutters notebooks with overused words - and use it to guide a pencil, or a piece of charcoal, or a paintbrush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that ability would make nights like this tolerable - night when i feel the world is closing in around me, ready to swallow me up and leave no trace.  nights when i feel i don't exist, and i never have.  when i feel like no one cares if i am here or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;instead words flow forth...here, on countless post-its cluttering my desk, in the little notebook i keep in my purse, on the back of credit card statements.  words, everywhere.  several times a day i empty my head, rid the thoughts i wouldn't share with anyone.  or thoughts i want to share with everyone, but no one is around to listen.  in my head, all the time...words.  phrases, sentences...paragraphs...echoing and bouncing around in my head, refusing to shut up until they are in print.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but my words are so bare.  my art could be so graceful, so elegant...the way i feel.  instead my words are plain, unremarkable, and forgettable...the way i am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-115579945682066860?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/115579945682066860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=115579945682066860' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115579945682066860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115579945682066860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/08/but-then-again-no.html' title='but then again, no...'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-115462714112632889</id><published>2006-08-03T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T10:45:41.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'>yo.</title><content type='html'>yes, i haven't posted in forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i'm back, and i just made some labels for artwork (you know, the fancy ones mounted on core-board that look all professional)...upon handing them over to the woman for whom i made them, she said, 'oh, thanks, i really appreciate this...these are going in senator obama's office'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, now.&lt;br /&gt;that's pretty damn cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and congrats to red, on her new job.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-115462714112632889?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/115462714112632889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=115462714112632889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115462714112632889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115462714112632889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/08/yo.html' title='yo.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-115133310132525572</id><published>2006-06-26T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-26T07:45:01.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>they're heeeeere...</title><content type='html'>i rolled into b/n around 8:30 this morning, and upon leaving my car heard a trumpet warming up, on painfully high notes, and fracking each and every one of them.  then i realized...the Bands of America kids are in town.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;campus is, i'm guessing, going to be nuts for awhile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was supposed to go camping this weekend, but seeing as i am not quite halfway through with my 16 day, 20 book class (ouch), i'm confined to my apartment where all i do is read like a nerd on crack.  however, this means i can sneak over and check out the drum corps when they are here on friday.  and since i am walking distance from the stadium, i don't have to worry about driving or parking!  how exciting.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i saw nacho libre friday night...it was cute.  i can't say it was amazing, but it was pretty darn funny.  the music was interesting however - as most of it was done by jack black, danny elfman, or...beck.  sunday i went to a bridal shower for my neighbor, and not only saw (and recognized) a girl i haven't seen since i was a sophomore in high school, but i remembered her name AND what she played in marching band.  which might have freaked her out a bit, as she only vaguely remembered me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;books i've read in the last few days: (and thus the reason i update once or twice a week): the outsiders, house on mango street, daddy long legs, i am morgan le fay, wren to the rescue, wizard of earthsea, 4 fantastic novels, and anne of green gables.  granted, this is an adolescent literature class, so the books aren't particularly long or taxing...but still.  its a lot of books.  and there are 12 left to go.  erk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-115133310132525572?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/115133310132525572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=115133310132525572' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115133310132525572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115133310132525572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/06/theyre-heeeeere.html' title='they&apos;re heeeeere...'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-115077472617800633</id><published>2006-06-19T20:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-19T20:38:46.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>disgruntled</title><content type='html'>saturday afternoon, during a volleyball game (if one could call it that) a friend of mine cited the song 'i feel pretty' as degrading to women.  i spoke up at the time, but meekly...and as is the case with most things, needed more time for the full effect of the disagreement to hit me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we talked that day, among many other social issues affecting women, about feminism...and my stance on feminism is, "i thank the women before me, for giving me the option to care whether or not the default gender when referring to humans is 'he'".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; why should i be shamed in wanting to feel pretty?  there is nothing wrong with wanting to be asthetically appealing.  feminism, in my mind, is NOT rejecting all that is classically and stereotypically feminine.  feminism (to me) is celebrating what makes women different from men, not shutting those differences away and being ashamed of them.  i like wearing makeup, and shopping for girly, lacey underwear, and knowing that if i really really want to, i can get away with a bit more than men by lowering my eyes and smiling coyly.  are these things intrinsic to my happiness?  no.  do they define me?  not in the least.  but they are aspects stereotypically attributed to women, and i do not reject them merely for that reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and for my friend, who isn't reading this, i leave this quote from "daddy long legs", written in 1912, a book i'm reading for 'teaching literature to adolescents'...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;one can't help thinking...what a colorless life a man is forced to lead, when one reflects that chiffon and venetian point and hand embroidery and irish crochet are to him mere empty words.  whereas a woman, whether she is interested in babies or microbes or husbands or poetry or servants or parallelograms or gradens or plato or bridge - is fundamentally and always intersted in clothes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the words of rodgers and hammerstein,&lt;br /&gt;i enjoy being a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-115077472617800633?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/115077472617800633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=115077472617800633' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115077472617800633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115077472617800633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/06/disgruntled.html' title='disgruntled'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-115049015882563191</id><published>2006-06-16T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T14:51:39.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>full of good karma...</title><content type='html'>and in a suprisingly good mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  got an A in ed psych!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  i was in a rather crappy mood yesterday evening, so i got in my car and drove around b/n, hoping to find something to uncrappy mood myself.  i found miller park...which is a park full of stuff.  monuments, train engines, mini-golf, a zoo, fishing, an amphitheater...full off stuff.  so, i wandered around miller park in my own little grouchy world, and right as i realized i looked like crap (my hair was messy, my jeans had paint on them, my tshirt was kind of dirty, i was makeupless)...i walked past a group of guys fishing.  one of them struck up a conversation with me (i had on an iowa tshirt, he asked if i went there...then we talked about random stuff) and he asked for my number.  of course i didn't give it to him, but it was kinda nice to be asked.  then i wandered around a bit more, with my head held a bit higher.   i found a dress rehersal for a community theater, and noticed a very tiny pit orchestra warming up.  so, i went to chat with the piano player (she looked friendly) and asked her if they need any more musicians.  she got really excited, and told me that EVERY community theater group is looking for musicians, and i should call around, and here are the numbers...and then one of the actors came down to talk to us, and gave me his wife's number, as she is looking for horn players for a production of 'beauty and the beast'.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  today at target i complimented a woman on her skirt...in turn she gave me her business card and told me she is putting together a portfolio for her mary kay final task dealy (i guess that means she has sold a LOT of mary kay) and told me i'm 'just too cute' and asked if i'd like to be in it.  hehe.  it made me feel good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and, just for the hell of it, a picture from the kj wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4348/1182/1600/2006-06-12%20056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4348/1182/200/2006-06-12%20056.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-115049015882563191?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/115049015882563191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=115049015882563191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115049015882563191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115049015882563191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/06/full-of-good-karma.html' title='full of good karma...'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-115033503933823823</id><published>2006-06-14T18:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T18:30:39.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a real honest-to-goodness post</title><content type='html'>1.  i've been sooo freakin' busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  ks and kj's (now they are both kj!) wedding was beautiful.  ks looked like a princess, and kj still looks 14.  i was so happy to be part of their day, and spend time with some people i see far less than i'd like to.  however, i spent the entire weekend tired, hungry and cold...ks is too busy being perfect (at least she does it well) to sleep or eat, thus she put her bridesmaids on much the same schedule.  and i forgot that in green bay in june, it's still chilly out.  brr.  i did go to a spa for the first time ever, though...it was nice.  i think i could have done without the oily massage (i felt gross for the rest of the day), but the facial, manicure and pedicure were very nice. overall the weekend was nice, and siddu is the most patient man ever, as he came along even though he spent the majority of the weekend in the hotel room while i ran all over green bay doing ks (and ks's mom's) bidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  i have an exam thursday.  i had an exam the thursday before that, and the thursday before that...and the thursday before that.  in there i had two papers due as well.  i'd be happy about thursday being the final exam of this class...but...monday i start a class in which i am reading 13 books in 4 weeks.  normally i wouldn't care too much - i'd just curl up in bed for a weekend with a pile of books - but all my weekends (save two) until august are booked.  oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  i've been put in charge of the website at work.  thus, i am in charge of the illinois state university galleries website.  whomever thought this up (cough cough my boss cough) is nuts.  so now i'm taking classes and being tutored privately (on top of my other classes) in webdesign.  because i'm not busy, or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;back i go to studying.&lt;br /&gt;study, study, study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-115033503933823823?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/115033503933823823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=115033503933823823' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115033503933823823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115033503933823823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/06/real-honest-to-goodness-post.html' title='a real honest-to-goodness post'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-115026149356020084</id><published>2006-06-13T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T22:04:53.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sick of studying.</title><content type='html'>so i'm yoinking a meme from red.  &lt;br /&gt;i need something mindless!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Start Time: 11.46 pm&lt;br /&gt;2. Name: you all know who i am&lt;br /&gt;3. Nickname: scout&lt;br /&gt;6. Zodiac/astrology sign: leo/virgo&lt;br /&gt;7. Hair color: dark brown&lt;br /&gt;8. Eye color: hazel&lt;br /&gt;9. Height: 5'9&lt;br /&gt;10. Favorite Color: orange&lt;br /&gt;13. Piercing/tattoos: four of one, one of the other&lt;br /&gt;14. Birthplace: south haven, mi&lt;br /&gt;15. Area code: 309&lt;br /&gt;16. Siblings names: none&lt;br /&gt;******HAVE YOU EVER******&lt;br /&gt;17. Cut your own hair?: only when it needs trimming&lt;br /&gt;18. Did something in the past month that you will regret? i missed out on dancing with my friend at his wedding...i kind of regret that&lt;br /&gt;19. Have you ever met someone you were not supposed to?: no&lt;br /&gt;20. Kissed someone who isn't ur g/f or b/f?: yes&lt;br /&gt;21. Skipped school?: yes&lt;br /&gt;22. Bungee jumped?: no&lt;br /&gt;24. Dumped someone?: yes&lt;br /&gt;25. Cheated on someone?: yes&lt;br /&gt;26. Been arrested?: no&lt;br /&gt;27. Broken into someones house: no&lt;br /&gt;28. Won something?: yes&lt;br /&gt;30. Been rejected?: but of course&lt;br /&gt;31. Been to a funeral?: yes&lt;br /&gt;32. Used a lighter?: yes&lt;br /&gt;33. Been on stage?: yes&lt;br /&gt;*****FAVORITE*****&lt;br /&gt;34. Season? fall&lt;br /&gt;35. Food: i could eat mexican food every day&lt;br /&gt;36. Ice cream flavor: dublin mudslide&lt;br /&gt;37. School subject(s): english and art&lt;br /&gt;38. Person: siddu&lt;br /&gt;39. Breakfast cereal: cinnamon toast crunch&lt;br /&gt;40. Number(s): 12&lt;br /&gt;41. Book(s): childhood's end&lt;br /&gt;42. Movie(s): nightmare before christmas&lt;br /&gt;43. Song(s): walk on by, cake&lt;br /&gt;44. Park: dunno&lt;br /&gt;45. State: michigan&lt;br /&gt;46. Place: bed&lt;br /&gt;47. Sport to watch on TV: football&lt;br /&gt;48. Sport to play: volleyball&lt;br /&gt;49. Bands/musicians: cake&lt;br /&gt;50. Letter(s): s&lt;br /&gt;51. Favorite fast food restaurant: chipotle &lt;br /&gt;52. Disney Princess: belle or pocahontas&lt;br /&gt;53. tv station?: cartoon network&lt;br /&gt;54. Name for a son: haven't thought about it&lt;br /&gt;55. Name for a daughter: suriya&lt;br /&gt;******DO YOU PREFER******&lt;br /&gt;56. Chocolate or Vanilla? vanilla&lt;br /&gt;57. Alcoholic or non? non&lt;br /&gt;58. Long relationships or one night stands? long relationships, i suppose.&lt;br /&gt;59. Dogs or cats? cats&lt;br /&gt;60. Scary movies or comedies? comedies&lt;br /&gt;61. Short or long hair? long&lt;br /&gt;62. Croutons or bacon bits? croutons, but only the amazing sourdough croutons from cracker barrel&lt;br /&gt;63. Kissing or hugging? kissing&lt;br /&gt;******FIRST THINGS THAT COME TO MIND******&lt;br /&gt;65. School: god damn final thursday&lt;br /&gt;66. Grass: it smells good&lt;br /&gt;67. Cow[s]: the jello commercial&lt;br /&gt;68. Canada: 7th grade summer trip&lt;br /&gt;69. Mouse: the mice living in my dad's grill that he accidentally cooked.&lt;br /&gt;70. Hand: strength&lt;br /&gt;******THE PAST 48 HOURS, HAVE YOU******&lt;br /&gt;71. Watched a movie? no&lt;br /&gt;72. Talked on the phone? yes&lt;br /&gt;73. Cried? ...no, suprisingly&lt;br /&gt;74. Threw up? no&lt;br /&gt;75. Drank a glass of water? no&lt;br /&gt;76. Done Drugs? no&lt;br /&gt;77. Read a book or magazine? yes&lt;br /&gt;78. Watched TV? yes&lt;br /&gt;79. Looked in the mirror? yes&lt;br /&gt;80. Taken a shower? yes&lt;br /&gt;81. Taken a picture? no&lt;br /&gt;82. Listened to music? yes&lt;br /&gt;83. Kissed someone? yes&lt;br /&gt;84. Told someone you liked them? yes&lt;br /&gt;85. End Time: 11:58&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-115026149356020084?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/115026149356020084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=115026149356020084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115026149356020084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/115026149356020084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/06/sick-of-studying.html' title='sick of studying.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114968793798832991</id><published>2006-06-07T06:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T07:50:58.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>this is a weird one</title><content type='html'>not only a dream worth remembering, but a dream worth writing down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was some cinderella/snow white -type character, but i'm not sure i knew that.  i'd had the evil stepmother and wicked stepsisters...but they were my real mother and sisters, and something happened to turn them evil and drive me away.  (i apparently didn't wait for prince charming to rescue me, i took off on my own.)  all of this info is perceived...i knew it as the dreamer, but not as the character in the dream.  funky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, something has happened to drive me away from my family and my home, and caused me to lose all memories i have of that life.  i wind up in this decrepit castle, curled up in a dirty little ball, shivering, and an equally dirty old man finds me, and gives me a cloak.  as he gives me the cloak, he turns into royalty.  this happens a few times - someone who is poor and dirty looking gives me something, and they turn into royalty.  a hunter-like character (from snow white?) gives me a sword, a knight gives me some magical item that i've already forgotten, two young women give me food, someone else gives me a dress...and this goes on until there is a royal court assembled (sans queen) and i am the princess.  the hunter takes me over to the window, which looks out over a forest with a big clearing in it, and shows me a dark figure slinking through the woods.  he tells me to beware of her, because she is evil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and life is good for awhile, and we eat, drink and play card games - and people still show up and give me things, then turn into nobility.  I get the feeling we were waiting for a prince charming to show up, and he was supposed to show up at a banquet...we were all at a big table in a huge hall, eating, when one of the tapestries catches on fire.  i run over to put it out, but the fire leaps at me, and turns into a giant tiger.  i still have my fork in my hand, so i try stabbing the tiger's muzzle with the fork, but still the tiger is coming at me.  i turn back to look at my 'family' for help, who are coming to assist me, and the hunter yells out "run!".  i turn back to the tiger and it has turned into the evil woman slinking around the forest, a witch - who is played by angelica houston!  (my dreams are well-cast).  at this point the people in the hall rush her, and i grab my cloak and my sword, jump out the window, and haul ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i run for a long time, and finally collapse in a thicket of bushes at the edge of the huge clearing. i pull my cloak over me and fall asleep.  when i wake up, i can still see the clearing and the surrounding forest, but in the clearing is a misty, transparent castle, and i am camped out in one of those huge fire places (not lit).  i look around, understandable panicked, and in the thicket/fireplace with me are all the people from the banquet, but they are misty and transparent as well, and their clothes are all in shades of brown.  i ask them what is going on, and they tell me they are dead, the witch killed them - and they have been buried.  as they finish telling me this, the witch (who i then recognize as my mother) pulls out a magic wand and brings the ghosts to life, saying who they are as she does - they are all members of HER family, which were members of my family, who i start to remember at that point.  the two young women turn into my sisters, the hunter my brother, etc.  (i never did figure out why they were evil or why i ran away).  i burrow back into the fireplace, and i'm sort of invisible because i'm solid, not misty like everyone else and the house...but she knows i'm there, and reaches in to caress my cheek all evil-villain like, and says "i'll come for you in three days, my daughter".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i woke up, because it was 8 am and i needed to study for a test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114968793798832991?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114968793798832991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114968793798832991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114968793798832991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114968793798832991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/06/this-is-weird-one.html' title='this is a weird one'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114914322776604127</id><published>2006-05-31T23:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T23:27:07.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>picking up the slack</title><content type='html'>in the style of &lt;a href="http://www.theycallmered.blogspot.com"&gt;red&lt;/a&gt;, a weekend update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friday:  up to chicago-land for a wedding with siddu on saturday, but first a late-night showing of x-men 3.  i can't remember when i last saw a movie on opening day, and the theatre was packed.  the movie was great, my pathetic crush on hugh-jackman-as-wolverine lives on, and i believe siddu's soul mate was sitting two people down from me - every comment sid made throughout the previews and the movie was either precluded or echoed by an eerily similar comment from the guy to my left.  even more amusing was was hearing the line "get these motherfucking snakes off my motherfucking plane" in stereo during the 'snakes on a plane' preview.  (which is impressive, considering the preview did not include that line - that means they both thought to bring it up at the same moment.  creepy.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;saturday: wedding.  it was nice.  it was two people i don't know.  but the bar was open, there was a lot of great music, and the food was good.  oh and in between the ceremony and the reception a group of us went to woodfield mall, which makes any day that much brighter.  the plan after the reception was to spend the night at sid's roomate's family's house...however as we drove north from schaumburg...for 45 minutes...we realized we could have been home 20 minutes ago.  oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sunday:  i sold a purse i made (knit/sewed) for 40 bucks!  woot!&lt;br /&gt;also i got my basic skills test results.  the basic skills test is the first in a long line of hurdles to becoming a teacher.  i did well...but the competitive side of me wants to know HOW well.  i know passing is a 24o out of 300 (an 80%), and i did quite a bit better than 240, but i want to know how many people did quite a bit better than 240.  to sate my own personal academic vanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;monday: siddu came back to normal with me, and we roasted in my apartment until tuesday.  granted i'm not an expert on a.c. repair...but i'm pretty sure the a.c. is NOT supposed to have a sheet of ice on it.  or in it.  but mine did.  and it made life unbearably humid.  thus we didn't move much monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in more recent news, i curated an installation for the show opening friday at the gallery.  maybe not a huge deal, but it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside to look at the installation, hanging all pretty on the wall, and think 'hey!  i arranged that!'.  if nothing else it kept me busy and off the computer for two days while i arranged and hung 58 tiles of various sizes on a wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and thats it.  i have an educational psychology exam tomorrow morning, and no matter how many times my mother says it is...no, ed psych is not easy.  anyway she is not allowed to say that, she majored in it.  so back to studying i go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114914322776604127?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114914322776604127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114914322776604127' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114914322776604127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114914322776604127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/06/picking-up-slack.html' title='picking up the slack'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114868735292017680</id><published>2006-05-26T16:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-26T16:49:12.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>4 years later, and look at me now</title><content type='html'>on tour with the colts in 2002, i have a vague memory of stopping at ISU for a show, but i wasn't sure.  i might have made it up.  today, driving back from running a few errands, i decided to go straight instead of turning left - this took me to the athletic compound, rather than my apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as i was driving through the maze of buildings, fields, and dorms, the deja vu crept up on me...nagging me...until i saw exactly the parking lot where we warmed up, exactly the path we marched from the busses to the stadium and back, and exactly the building where i and some of the other mellophone girls scampered off to for a bathroom break before the show.  all the feelings associated with that summer - good and bad, came right back to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was weird driving through that area.  somewhere close to unsettling, but not quite.    like i was revisiting something that didn't really need to be revisited.  there were elements of corps i really loved, and elements i didn't much like at all.  thinking back on the whole experience is very bittersweet for reasons i don't really need to go in to.  but when i was here, on this campus, almost exactly four years ago - i dunno.  i have this thing, when i can't fall asleep, where i stare at the ceiling wondering where i will be on this day in a year.  right now i can say with a fairly strong amount of certainty that i will be here, in normal, in this apartment, in a year.  but four years?  could i have guessed four years ago that i'd be here now?  it's funny, the circles life takes you in.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah, bittersweet is the best way to describe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114868735292017680?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114868735292017680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114868735292017680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114868735292017680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114868735292017680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/05/4-years-later-and-look-at-me-now.html' title='4 years later, and look at me now'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114861561426683031</id><published>2006-05-25T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-25T20:53:34.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i never have my sword when i need it</title><content type='html'>today, during a short break in my ed psych class, i decided to venture beyond the basement of the education building and eat my snack (peanut butter crackers) outside.  leaving class, i turned a few corners, and found myself in a dark hallway.  at the end of the hallway was a dimly lit exit sign...so i went toward the light.  i got to the door, and saw a very small amount of daylight coming through the dirty window.  But, as the door was unlocked, i opened it, and found myself at the foot of a very damp, littered and otherwise forgotten-looking stairway.  however - success!  i was at least outside.  so i tiptoed up the stairs, avoiding the slimy green puddles; finally i reachedsd the top.  and what do i find?  a bush.  i'm met by a big, shaggy bush, blocking my exit to the real world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been playing zelda for a week straight.  what do you do when nature blocks your way in zelda?  hack it down with your sword.  what do i do in the real world?  climb over it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is a moment in which i was really really REALLY glad no one was around.  because i did, in fact, climb over the bush...but i was wearing sandals that fall off with the slightest provocation and a long, flowy skirt that likes to settle a bit to low on my hips.  my shoe fell off, causing me to lose my balance, causing me to step on my skirt, causing me to expose much of my ass to the outside world.  by the time i untangled myself and made myself presentable again...it was time to find a *REAL* entrance to the building and go back to class.  i ate my crackers in disgruntled silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the end.&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114861561426683031?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114861561426683031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114861561426683031' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114861561426683031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114861561426683031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-never-have-my-sword-when-i-need-it.html' title='i never have my sword when i need it'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114850429713649114</id><published>2006-05-24T13:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-24T13:58:17.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hmm.</title><content type='html'>so, i'm sitting here at work creating an endless database of gallery contacts all over the country (i just hit 100...time for a slightly longer break than the many breaks i've been taking) and realized, 'hmm, i've not posted in awhile'.  and, lo and behold, it did not go unnoticed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i moved, apartment #2 is much much nicer than apartment #1.  i've actually met some of my neighbors, and the girl two doors over had me over for dinner a few nights ago.  she and her boyfriend are living together for the summer, but neither of their parents know...so much of the dinner conversation was on the topic of how to get his stuff out of there quickly if her parents decided to visit spur-of-the-moment, and how to make it look like he is living with his cousin if his parents decide to visit.  i was entertained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, i am taking a summer class - educational psychology.  my professor has two phds.  today in class - she said - with TWO PHDs (dot dot dot)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;supposebly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AUGH!  she should know better!  TWO PHDs!&lt;br /&gt;sigh.  rage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, i'm addicted to Zelda Windwaker, it is absorbing all of the time I should be dedicating to reading about ed psych.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114850429713649114?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114850429713649114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114850429713649114' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114850429713649114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114850429713649114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/05/hmm.html' title='hmm.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114730780627822002</id><published>2006-05-10T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T17:36:46.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and my posting rampage continues!</title><content type='html'>my last post was a burst of uncharacteristic rage.  this is more like it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#DDDDDD" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You are Betty Grable&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.yournewromance.com/whatfamouspinupareyouquiz/betty-grable.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ulitmate girl next door&lt;br /&gt;You're the perfect girl for most guys&lt;br /&gt;Pretty yet approachable. Beautiful yet real.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://ynr.blogthings.com/whatfamouspinupareyouquiz/"&gt;What Famous Pinup Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114730780627822002?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114730780627822002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114730780627822002' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114730780627822002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114730780627822002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/05/and-my-posting-rampage-continues.html' title='and my posting rampage continues!'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114730276252527457</id><published>2006-05-10T16:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T16:13:26.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i have nothing to say...</title><content type='html'>...except that people like this make me cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after seeing this clip - i hope there is a heaven, and i hope there is a hell, and i hope this woman finds herself roasting to a crisp for all eternity while demons rape her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.break.com/index/hannityloon.html"&gt;http://www.break.com/index/hannityloon.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114730276252527457?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114730276252527457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114730276252527457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114730276252527457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114730276252527457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-have-nothing-to-say.html' title='i have nothing to say...'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114723702629001197</id><published>2006-05-09T21:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T21:57:06.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm a procrastinator</title><content type='html'>i have a final in 8 hours - haven't even started studying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KNOWN FACTS/SECRETS ABOUT YOURSELF&lt;br /&gt;1. WHAT DOES YOUR JOURNAL TITLE MEAN? it is a quote from shakespeare's the tempest&lt;br /&gt;2. ELABORATE ON YOUR DEFAULT PHOTO? it is the virgo installation in shag's zodiac collection.&lt;br /&gt;3. HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE YOU HAD SEX WITH ON YOUR FRIENDS LIST?? only one.&lt;br /&gt;4. WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT RELATIONSHIP STATUS? taken!&lt;br /&gt;5. WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU WEARING RIGHT NOW?: the usual - slightly grungy jeans, tshirt, hoodie and sneakers.&lt;br /&gt;6. WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT PROBLEM? i'm restless, i feel lonely, i miss my boyfriend, and i don't want to write this damn paper.&lt;br /&gt;7. WHO DO YOU LOVE MOST? my parents and my boyfriend&lt;br /&gt;8. WHO MAKES YOU MOST HAPPY? siddu&lt;br /&gt;9. ARE YOU MUSICALLY INCLINED?: my minor in french horn performance and past paying gigs with my horn and bass say yes.&lt;br /&gt;10. IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, AND CHANGE SOMETHING, WHAT WOULD IT BE? i don't know if i'd change anything, everything - good or bad - has led me to this moment, and as unhappy as i am somedays, there are a lot of good things going on in my life as well.  there is no saying what one change could do to my present position.&lt;br /&gt;11. IF YOU MUST BE AN ANIMAL FOR ONE DAY- WHAT WOULD YOU BE?: lion or tiger.  something that runs very fast briefly, then naps for a few days.&lt;br /&gt;12. EVER HAVE A NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE?: nope.&lt;br /&gt;13. NAME AN OBVIOUS QUALITY YOU HAVE: i'm told i always look sad, even when i'm not.&lt;br /&gt;14. WHAT'S THE NAME OF THE SONG THAT'S STUCK IN YOUR HEAD RIGHT NOW? jupiter by gustav holst&lt;br /&gt;15. HAVE YOU EVER CALLED 911? yes - i was babysitting when i was 13 and i thought someone was trying to get in the house.&lt;br /&gt;16. NAME SOMEONE WITH THE SAME B-DAY AS YOU: the only cool thing that has ever happened on august 24 is that pompeii was covered in lava.&lt;br /&gt;17. HAVE YOU EVER VANDALIZED SOMEONE'S PRIVATE PROPERTY? probably&lt;br /&gt;18. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN A FIGHT?: once in middle school.  i don't remember much other than kicking her really really hard.&lt;br /&gt;19. HAVE YOU EVER SANG IN FRONT OF A LARGE AUDIENCE?: i had my moment of kareoke fame&lt;br /&gt;20. WHAT'S THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT SOMEONE? hair, maybe?  not how it is styled, but length, color, and for men, if they have facial hair.&lt;br /&gt;21. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY ORDER FROM STARBUCKS? fat free sugar free iced vanilla latte&lt;br /&gt;22. DO YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON ANYBODY IN YOUR FRIENDS LIST?: well, if you count having a crush on siddu.&lt;br /&gt;23. EVER HAD A DRUNKEN NIGHT IN MEXICO?: sadly no&lt;br /&gt;24.HAS ANYONE EVER SAID YOU LOOKED LIKE A CELEBRITY?: i'm told i look like katie holmes a lot.  and catherine zeta jones, but only when i wear makeup and attempt to look nice.  which isn't all that often.&lt;br /&gt;25. DO YOU STILL WATCH KIDDY MOVIES OR TV SHOWS?: i will never fess up to just how much cartoon network i watch.&lt;br /&gt;26. DID YOU HAVE BRACES? no&lt;br /&gt;27. ARE YOU COMFORTABLE WITH YOUR HEIGHT?: sometimes i wish i was an inch or two shorter. &lt;br /&gt;28. WHAT IS THE MOST ROMANTIC THING SOMEONE HAS EVER DONE FOR YOU? a guy i dated briefly in college surprised me by cooking dinner for me one night, complete with a table set up italian bistro style.  (bread, wine, lone candle dripping down the sides of a bottle...)  there was even a checkered table cloth.  i'm not sure if that is the MOST romantic thing, but it sticks out in my mind as being awfully sweet.&lt;br /&gt;29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? yes.&lt;br /&gt;30.WHATS YOUR FAVORITE FRAGRANCE?  pink sugar by aquolina&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114723702629001197?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114723702629001197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114723702629001197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114723702629001197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114723702629001197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/05/im-procrastinator.html' title='i&apos;m a procrastinator'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114721298247900880</id><published>2006-05-09T15:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T15:16:22.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>do they call this malaise?</title><content type='html'>blaaah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't want to do anything.&lt;br /&gt;i can't figure out where i'm going.&lt;br /&gt;i simply want to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;my mother got fed up with my "i don't care either way" attitude on my last visit home, and asked me what makes me happy.  she added it cannot be a person - i need to figure out what makes me happy independant of others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no clue!  when i think about what makes me happy, or times when i am happy - those feelings rest on others.  that isn't a bad thing, but not being able to make myself happy is a bad thing.  i guess knitting makes me happy - but when i'm knitting my mind goes pretty much blank except for "knit, knit, knit"...or maybe a song that gets stuck up there.  so, that would mean i'm happy when i'm completely thoughtless.  that is a sad thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i fall too often into the habit of missing the past, or thinking too far into the future - about things that could make me happy - but resting happiness on events that haven't happened is dangerous.  As is living in the past.  Or thinking about things that could have happened, but will now never be realized...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need to learn how to live in the present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyone know how to go about doing that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114721298247900880?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114721298247900880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114721298247900880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114721298247900880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114721298247900880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/05/do-they-call-this-malaise.html' title='do they call this malaise?'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114671913059665558</id><published>2006-05-03T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T22:05:30.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i've outsmarted myself</title><content type='html'>so, i started this silly blog to get some of my thoughts into words, because i've found that is the best therapy for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is something sad and ironic in the fact that i feel i can't put most of the thoughts swirling around up there down here.  while they are thoughts i could share individually, most of what bothers me on a daily basis i simply don't feel comfortable sharing en masse.  ironically, the people who i know read this are some of the people who know me best, and those people SHOULD be the people i am opening up too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sad and ironic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, napping has taken over my life.  i wake up early for class, go to class, come home and crash for a few hours, then i'm up until 4am.  rinse and repeat. &lt;br /&gt;afternoon naps seem to produce the weirdest dreams.  they are never "normal" dreams - (and by normal i mean surreal and nonsensical) - in fact usually they are a bit too real and i wake up disturbed, sad or and combination of the two.  yesterday afternoon i woke up so upset and shaken that i couldn't concentrate for the rest of the day - or at least until i made sure the subject of the dream was okay (in real life.)  it was just that upsetting.  so upsetting that i am not going to relate what the dream was about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today's dream wasn't upsetting, but i woke up feeling sad nonetheless.  in the dream i was at an NCHS football game, i'm sure it was homecoming or something.  and all the people i was close with in highschool were there - and everyone was genuinely glad to see eachother.  what i remember most from the dream was a guy i was fairly good friends with in highschool - when he saw me he swept me into a huge bear hug.  the kind where your feet come off the ground a few inches.  (i don't get a lot of those...i'm a bit tall for most people to hug me like that.)  in the dream i was just happy to be surrounded by friends, by people who care about me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;waking up into the overwhelming isolation i'm grappling with right now...really hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114671913059665558?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114671913059665558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114671913059665558' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114671913059665558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114671913059665558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/05/ive-outsmarted-myself.html' title='i&apos;ve outsmarted myself'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114652221143290402</id><published>2006-05-01T15:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T15:23:31.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the list - due dates ranging between may 5 and may 11</title><content type='html'>EAF:&lt;br /&gt;finish typing and submit interview transcript (10-15 pgs)&lt;br /&gt;start, finish and submit final paper (10-15 pgs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENG:&lt;br /&gt;finish lit. theory paper (5-7 pgs)&lt;br /&gt;start and finish linguistics paper (5-7 pgs)&lt;br /&gt;start and finish rhetoric paper (5-7 pgs)&lt;br /&gt;finish annotated bibliography for 'progeny of keg grove' project (20-25 entries)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PSYCH:&lt;br /&gt;study for exam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, i got an A on that godforsaken C&amp;amp;I portfolio.&lt;br /&gt;sigh.&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114652221143290402?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114652221143290402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114652221143290402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114652221143290402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114652221143290402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/05/list-due-dates-ranging-between-may-5_01.html' title='the list - due dates ranging between may 5 and may 11'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114620609497143670</id><published>2006-04-27T23:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T23:34:54.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm getting no work done...</title><content type='html'>but my doodles are really coming along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4348/1182/1600/random.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4348/1182/320/random.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114620609497143670?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114620609497143670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114620609497143670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114620609497143670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114620609497143670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/04/im-getting-no-work-done.html' title='i&apos;m getting no work done...'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114614671350334596</id><published>2006-04-27T07:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T07:05:13.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AHHH!</title><content type='html'>AAAHHHHHH TOO MUCH TO DO BEFORE FINALS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AAAHHHH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114614671350334596?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114614671350334596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114614671350334596' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114614671350334596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114614671350334596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/04/ahhh.html' title='AHHH!'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114556911607913394</id><published>2006-04-20T14:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T12:25:04.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>:(</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4348/1182/1600/sarah%20and%20tucker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4348/1182/320/sarah%20and%20tucker.jpg" alt="" 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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RIP Tucker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents' dog had a series of strokes and had to be put down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They only had him for 9 months - my parents are a mess.  Please think happy thoughts in their directions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114556911607913394?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114556911607913394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114556911607913394' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114556911607913394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114556911607913394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/04/blog-post.html' title=':('/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114554116811408173</id><published>2006-04-20T06:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T06:52:58.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>but we already knew that.</title><content type='html'>i left my phone on silent for 2 days - which is about the same amount of time i spent working on the doomed portfolio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this morning i had an email from my mom saying she'd been trying to reach me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i opened up my phone and i had 28 MISSED CALLS SINCE YESTERDAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, naturally i panicked a little - she's gone a little nuts in trying to reach me in the past, but not 28 calls in 24 hours - so i was afraid someone had died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no, nothing like that.&lt;br /&gt;she hadn't talked to me since monday, so naturally this means i'm dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;naturally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mother is nuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114554116811408173?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114554116811408173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114554116811408173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114554116811408173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114554116811408173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/04/but-we-already-knew-that.html' title='but we already knew that.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114545948413499939</id><published>2006-04-19T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T08:11:24.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my hair is sitting in piles around me</title><content type='html'>...because i've pulled it all out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;curriculum and instruction is the bane of my existance.  i can't do ANYTHING right for this class.  if i can misread the due date, i will.  if i can misunderstand the assignment, i will.  if i can set my alarmclock amazingly wrong a few times...yeah, i will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i can overwrite a file 2 hours before it is due...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i called my professor this morning in a panic because this file was magically overwritten.  magically overwritten through my own sheer stupidity.  i apparently sounded completely pathetic, because she gave me a hug after class, and told me to do what i can about that file.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she wears a lot of perfume, and now i smell like grandmother perfume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this file is part of a larger project - at least the majority of the project is in.  which brings me to the question of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why do i suck so much???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114545948413499939?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114545948413499939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114545948413499939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114545948413499939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114545948413499939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/04/my-hair-is-sitting-in-piles-around-me.html' title='my hair is sitting in piles around me'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114533893730874464</id><published>2006-04-17T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T22:42:17.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i keep trudging up this mountain...</title><content type='html'>i'd love to think i grew out of this horrible habit of procrastinating on important schoolwork when i was at iowa...i vividly remember writing until dawn, napping for an hour or two, then stumbling to class to turn in the paper i'd stayed up all night writing.  i always got a's or b's - but it was never worth the strain on my body.  but here i am again, waiting until the last moment to get my work done.  i have a portfolio due wednesday, but all the elements are either half-written or not done at all.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'd love to break this cycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this semester is almost over, and i'm ready for a break.  i'll have a week between finals and my summer classes, and i'm looking forward to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've felt so meloncholy lately - maybe i do need a roomate.  &lt;br /&gt;too late now, i think...i've signed a lease until next april.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news i'm thinking of getting a hedgehog.  perhaps a pet will help!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114533893730874464?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114533893730874464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114533893730874464' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114533893730874464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114533893730874464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-keep-trudging-up-this-mountain.html' title='i keep trudging up this mountain...'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114497667520839082</id><published>2006-04-13T17:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T18:07:20.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i'll play along.</title><content type='html'>1. Who was your first prom date? nick craig&lt;br /&gt;2. Who was your first roommate(s)? shanna - i can't remember her last name!&lt;br /&gt;3. What alcoholic beverage did you drink the first time you got drunk? hmmm.  rum and coke.  and i did not just get drunk, i got painfully, awfully, almost-had-to-go-to-the-ER drunk.  i can't even smell rum and coke without feeling repulsed, and that was 5 years ago!&lt;br /&gt;4. What was your first job? working for the city of naperville&lt;br /&gt;5. What was your first car? 2005 toyota camery&lt;br /&gt;6. When did you go to your first funeral? i was little, maybe 6 or 7 and it was my grandfather's mother, i think.  she was really old, and i didn't really know her.&lt;br /&gt;7. How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown? if you count south haven as my hometown, 11.&lt;br /&gt;8. Who was your first grade teacher? miss heinrich&lt;br /&gt;9. Where did you go on your first ride on an airplane? I dunno, too young to remember.  the first plane ride I remember was in 6th grade.&lt;br /&gt;10. When did you sneak out of your house for the first time, who was it with? i'm not sure i've ever snuck out of the house.&lt;br /&gt;11. Who was your first Best Friend and are you still friends with them? melissa h - last i heard she ran away (this was around junior year of higschool)&lt;br /&gt;12. Where did you live the first time you moved out of your parents house?  iowa city &lt;br /&gt;13.Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day? my mom&lt;br /&gt;14. Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid/groomsman? my uncle stu's second marriage.  i was not in the third.  &lt;br /&gt;15. What is the first thing you do in the morning? physically abuse my alarmclock&lt;br /&gt;16. What was the first concert you ever went to? couldn't tell you&lt;br /&gt;17. First tattoo or piercing? 10: piercings, 14: piercing, 19: piercing, 20: tattoo&lt;br /&gt;18. First celebrity crush? I'm not sure I've ever *really* had a celebrity crush...but i guess the first celebrity who struck me as being an attractive and real person was brett favre&lt;br /&gt;19. Age of first kiss? first real kiss - 13.  hehe.  it was at bandcamp.&lt;br /&gt;20. First crush? jon v. when i was five.  yes, five.  he moved away when we were in third grade and i was devestated.  (3 years is a long time to have a crush!)&lt;br /&gt;21. First time you did drugs? 19, not counting alcohol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114497667520839082?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114497667520839082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114497667520839082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114497667520839082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114497667520839082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/04/ill-play-along.html' title='i&apos;ll play along.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114469530484678182</id><published>2006-04-10T11:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T11:55:16.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>welcome to my head.</title><content type='html'>i have a headache.  i've had a headache since friday.&lt;br /&gt;i haven't been sleeping well...since wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is about what happens every time i try to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: yawn.  i'm exausted.&lt;br /&gt;brain: you have a lot of work to do!  why aren't you working on your paper?  what are you going to wear for observations tomorrow?  do you think you'll wear more pants, or more skirts when you student teach?  you'd need to buy a lot of tights if you wear skirts.  you should knit those knee socks you saw on knitty.com.  maybe in red, yellow and black.  or in brown.  or a few pair so you could wear them with different outfits.  are you going to start working on the RHPS messenger bag?  what are you going to do with the 'who' swatch you knitted?  where are you going to put your 'who' poster in your next apartment?  how are you going to arrange your bedroom?'&lt;br /&gt;me:  brain!  shut up!  bedtime!&lt;br /&gt;brain:  bite me.  just for that, i'm making your headache worse.&lt;br /&gt;me:  (whimpering) i just want to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;brain: but your paper!  how are you going to format it?  when are you going to study for your psych test?  do you think you'll get to see siddu before finals?  do you come off as too dependant?  you suck at relationships.  when are you going to move?  where are you going to store your sweaters during the summer?  there won't be enough room in your new apartment.  think about it...it's getting smaller the more you think about it.  your new living room isn't really 9x11.  its getting smaller. smaller!  you'll have no room for anything!  you're moving into a box!  a dark box!  get out of bed!  get out of bed and look at the website one more time!  panic, panic!  by the way, you have  paper do soon...wait, wasn't your psych test last week?  did you miss it?  you think it is this wednesday, but it was probably last wednesday.  you suck.&lt;br /&gt;me:  (curling up in a ball and staring at my back door) ...sleep...&lt;br /&gt;brain:  did you lock your front door?  is the back door locked?  someone is going to break in and get you in your sleep.  have you RSPVed for K's bridal shower?  you are a horrible friend for not going.  so what if you have to take the basic skills test that day?  when are you going to study for that?  you are going to fail the math part, you know.  you suck at math.  you suck at life.  when are you going to finish your paper?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and so on and so forth.&lt;br /&gt;someone, PLEASE save me from myself.&lt;br /&gt;:(&lt;br /&gt;i need a nap, but i can't get my brain to shut off long enough...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114469530484678182?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114469530484678182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114469530484678182' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114469530484678182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114469530484678182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/04/welcome-to-my-head.html' title='welcome to my head.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114426672439525969</id><published>2006-04-05T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T12:52:04.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>woot summer plans</title><content type='html'>about two weeks ago i was getting ready to start the summer job hunt.  then my boss, bb, told me 'please say you're going to be in town this summer.  i can give you 20-30 hours a week until mid july, and we'll start up again when school starts.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cha-ching!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am going on family vacation + possibly rafting in july.  now all i need is a job from the end of july through the start of the school year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today i paid a visit to my friend max, who directs the bloomington high school band and marching band.  we chatted for awhile, then he said 'hey, if you're around late july and august, i'd love for you to help out with the marching band.  i can't pay you much, but you get to yell at people and make them march.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;woohoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;verdict?  no working at the mall for this girl!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today is the first day i visited max - i have not seen him since (i think) 2002 or 2003.  it was really nice seeing him, and he seemed genuinely pleased to see me and catch up a bit.  (which is a nice feeling.)  to further my theory that everyone in the midwest knows eachother, i think most of the people who read this little blog of mine know max, and even if you don't know max, someone you know knows max.  (red, i'm pretty sure max was your brother's drum major in the marching illini.)  see?  everyone in the midwest is connected, somehow.  i explained this to max, he agreed, and agreed even more when somehow the topic got on scott boerma, who will be in town judging a competition.  scott boerma used to babysit me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114426672439525969?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114426672439525969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114426672439525969' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114426672439525969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114426672439525969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/04/woot-summer-plans.html' title='woot summer plans'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114420251195637176</id><published>2006-04-04T18:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T19:01:52.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>thoughts! spewing from my head!  won't be able to type fast enough to keep up with them!</title><content type='html'>in my foundations of education class tonight we had guest speakers.  first we had 3 little ones (6-11 years old) talk about what their games mean to them.  we used nintendogs as examples, as all these little ones have nintendogs, and that is an online gaming environment.  they talked about what nintendogs means to them, what they learn from the games, how they feel if one of their dogs die or runs away, and how nintendogs affects their views of the 'real' world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then we had two more guest speakers - one my age and one  maybe 10 years older.  they talked about how video/computer games (specifically online games) can be applied to classroom environments.  this was met, suprisingly, with a lot of resistance from my peers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first off, we talked in class about any experience we had with rpgs.  granted, my class is 80% female...but i had the most experience with my past addictions to zelda, b&amp;w, and warcraft.  i realized i admitted to having the most experience with rpgs on a day i wore glasses, no makeup, a baseball cap and...just to make the image complete...my hawkeye marching band jacket.  at this realization i slid deep into my desk and shut up for the rest of the class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, no one in my class had much experience with rpgs, let alone online rpgs.  and they stuck, frustratingly, to the idea that online gamers are pasty, socially inept, friendless degenerates.  thus my peers could not get past their own stereotypes to see that possibly there could be real world applications for skills learned in online games.  skills like financial management, leadership, problem solving, following directions, and working as a team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, my peers preached that 'violent video games make kids violent!!' which shocked me...how soon we forget when "they" (afa and the media) said 'marilyn manson makes kids commit suicide!' and 'beavis and butthead makes kids start fires!'....or....'rock 'n' roll will make kids commit crimes!'  or 'elvis will make my little girl have lewd thoughts!!'  my peers argued passionately that video games will make kids dumber.  in my studies of the middle ages, i read much the same about BOOKS.  'people won't memorize!  they'll be stupider!'  or the argument that video games make kids antisocial.  go back a few centuries and research the uprising that followed the new concept of reading silently to ones self.  none of this discourse is new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, i see the arguements.  i am not so single minded that i don't see, consider, and even agree with some of the arguements about video games.  there are a lot of disadvantages, and of course the guest speakers were not preaching that online worlds replace classrooms and teachers, but merely be used as an educational tool.  the textbook is an educational tool, not a teacher.  the textbook suppliments the teacher, just as videogames and online worlds could. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess i'm shocked at how closed-minded my classmates were, and how rude (they were actually rude!) they were to the guest speakers.  these two guys spoke a lot about their online gaming experiences - and they were both outgoing, well-spoken, athletic guys, certainly not two nerdy guys who support the stereotype. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i needed to get that off my chest.&lt;br /&gt;thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114420251195637176?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114420251195637176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114420251195637176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114420251195637176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114420251195637176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/04/thoughts-spewing-from-my-head-wont-be.html' title='thoughts! spewing from my head!  won&apos;t be able to type fast enough to keep up with them!'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114412422427262697</id><published>2006-04-03T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T21:17:04.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>quickly, before i go to bed...</title><content type='html'>i have a horoscope on my msn welcome page.  now, if averages apply to horoscopes (which i hope they do,) my horoscope should be at least partially horoscope-y at least ONCE in awhile.  I mean, they make those things vague for a reason.  I usually don't take the time to read mine, but when i do, the horoscope is not only wrong, but completely inapplicable to me.   (is inapplicable a word?  survey says it isn't NOT a word...good enough for me.)  it's like the horoscope is trying to be wrong.  it's been so wrong that i thought maybe this particular astrological phenomenon was going off the date i was supposed to be born, and while i don't exactly know that date, i know i was late and therefore would have been leo.  and i am right at the cusp of leo and virgo anyway, so i changed my horoscope from virgo to leo, just to see if it had an effect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the horoscope is still very, very wrong.   today it tells me  "a group you  are affiliated with  is torn apart by politics".    very, very wrong, and again, completely inapplicable.  i'm not even sure i'm affiliated with any groups right now.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh well.  i haven't believed in astrology since i was in middle school, and i'm certainly not going to start again.  i'm just astounded that my horoscopes, which usually aim to be as vague (and therefore potentially right as possible), are completely wrong and never even accidentally correct.  it defies averages!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and they are never even laughably wrong, like the fortune teller at the renn faire who told me i'd give birth to twins within the year.  that was in 2000.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bedtime!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114412422427262697?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114412422427262697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114412422427262697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114412422427262697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114412422427262697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/04/quickly-before-i-go-to-bed.html' title='quickly, before i go to bed...'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114407323856046995</id><published>2006-04-03T06:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T07:07:18.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>simply, liquid soul rocks</title><content type='html'>friday night siddu and i went to see liquid soul, a funk/jazz band out of chicago i got turned on to while i was at iowa.  &lt;a href="http://www.liquidsoul.com/liquid-soul.htm"&gt;this is their website&lt;/a&gt;.  while at the concert it dawned on me, "this is what i used to do on weekends!"  i realize i haven't had much of a social life since i was 19 (if that isn't a sad statement, i don't know what is.)  i'd go out to concerts and just dance all night.  no wonder i was in such good shape.  for whatever reason, jr year i stopped going out and doing stuff like that, and it was so nice to revisit!  (it's also nice to have a date who actually goes out onto the dance floor with me!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while at the concert i ran into a girl i haven't seen since my sophomore year at iowa, incidentally, a girl i used to go to liquid soul concerts with.  she is getting her doctorate in french horn at u of illinois.  running into people i haven't seen in a while is something i'm getting used to...at the mall in bloomington i ran into a girl i haven't seen since i lived in green bay, and to my great suprise the band director at the highschool in which i'm doing my observations was working on his masters at iowa when i was there.  i hate the term 'small world' (mostly because of that horrid disney song), but i guess it's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, the liquid soul concert was the finger in the back i needed to get back to playing bass guitar - i haven't really touched it in a year or two, and i miss playing it.  b-n isn't exactly a hotbed of musical activity, but i'm sure i can find something.  i thought i missed playing horn, but the only thing i could pick up in the middle of the semester was fourth horn in the lowest band.  i thought i'd be grateful for any opportunity to play...apparently i was wrong.  i hate to say it, but playing fourth horn in a crappy band is just not fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114407323856046995?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114407323856046995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114407323856046995' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114407323856046995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114407323856046995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/04/simply-liquid-soul-rocks.html' title='simply, liquid soul rocks'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114369047950687692</id><published>2006-03-29T19:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T20:01:03.653-08:00</updated><title type='text'>things i feel like saying.  none of them are important.</title><content type='html'>1. my boss called in sick today, but he did not call me to tell me he called in sick. therefore i got to the art building, wandered around for awhile trying to find someone who might know what i'm supposed to be doing...then found my boss's secretary who told me he wasn't in today. stupid bb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. i have to give the parking garage people a ticket and pay before i can leave. today i got to the window and sat there for about a minute while the guys on the other side did homework. i then said 'hello!' because i got sick of waiting. one of the guys came over and fixed me with the most evil of evil looks when he took my ticket. it startled me into apologizing. i apologized for having to wait for him. stupid me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. i noticed that my favorite variety of yogurt was voted 'best tasting light and nonfat yogurt' by by the professional chefs of 'american culinary chefsbest'. now i know why they never have it in stock. stupid chefs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. my advisor sucks at returning emails. i might actually have to call her. stupid her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  open question: have you ever wondered if you are the one to initiates conversations, so you see how long it takes for someone to contact you, but in the process you just make yourself feel worse because you wonder if they even notice or care that you aren't there and get panicky and frustrated and breakdown and contact them anyway?  or am i just neurotic?  that one is another stupid me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm having a grouchy ladybug day. i feel crotchety.&lt;br /&gt;do the words crotchety and crotch have anything to do with eachother? i've never thought about that until i typed the word. i don't think i've ever written that word down. weird. or is it spelled crochety? either way, i'm momentarily interested, but it will pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114369047950687692?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114369047950687692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114369047950687692' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114369047950687692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114369047950687692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/03/things-i-feel-like-saying-none-of-them.html' title='things i feel like saying.  none of them are important.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114359449381089032</id><published>2006-03-28T17:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T17:08:13.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>its mario!  in a boot!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4348/1182/1600/mario!%20%20in%20a%20boot!.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4348/1182/320/mario%21%20%20in%20a%20boot%21.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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kristine, this is for you :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now the question is...&lt;br /&gt;what do i do with it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114359449381089032?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114359449381089032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114359449381089032' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114359449381089032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114359449381089032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/03/its-mario-in-boot.html' title='its mario!  in a boot!'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114317823442745226</id><published>2006-03-23T21:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-23T21:30:34.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>oops.</title><content type='html'>so i had this great idea to do a cute little blog of my new york trip - i got as far as writing the first leg.  (as everyone has seen.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, school is KICKING MY ASS this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'll get around to posting the rest of my trip...but tonight, i just want to go on record as saying this week sucks an awful lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am working on a presentation about year round school.  there are, naturally, a lot of people for and against yrs.  one of the arguments against, however, is that "year round school will discourage the ethnic and cultural diversity we have been struggling so hard to maintain".&lt;br /&gt;buh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've read this article over and over in the spirit of fair play - maybe the author has a point, but it is just hard to find.  i do, after all, want to present both sides of the issue.  so i read it, and i read it.  and i found reasoning to back up the argument.  it is thus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically this woman is saying she is white and middle class, and chose to send her children to a less-than-accredited public school with a diverse population to expose her children to "ethnic and cultural diversity".  okay, so far so good.  she wants her kids to experience something more than middle class white america.  good for her.  however, she goes on to insinuate that because she chose to send her children to this school, that other white middle class families decided to send their children there...and thus, over the course of a few years, the school has improved because of all the white middle class families who now send their kids there.  all thanks to her!  now she pulls out the big guns.  she says that if the school goes to a year round calendar, she will send her kids elsewhere.  and when she does this, of course, all the other white middle class families will do the same.  thus, all the kiddies will go to private schools, with all the other white middle class kids.  and there goes the "ethnic and cultural diversity we have been struggling so hard to maintain". &lt;br /&gt;that is some amazing logic.&lt;br /&gt;i believe this is a great example of what my grandmother calls "cutting off your nose to spite your face".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll leave ya'll with that.&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114317823442745226?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114317823442745226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114317823442745226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114317823442745226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114317823442745226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/03/oops.html' title='oops.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114263926759704152</id><published>2006-03-17T14:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T15:47:47.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'>new york installation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;part one&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well i feel like i've just crammed a whole lot of stuff in just a few days. oh, wait...i have. i knew nothing about this trip going into it, the only info i had was what day i was leaving, and what day i was coming home. i had it from my boss, bb, that we'd leave at 10 on monday. with that in mind, i figured it is about a 14-15 hour drive to nyc - that we'd drive though, sleep in our hotel in nyc, and start nycing on tuesday morning. however...this is how it all went down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9.00 am monday&lt;/strong&gt;: i call bb, wanting to know if we are still leaving at 10am and where we are meeting. (he said he'd send an email with this info in it, but at 9am with no info i got worried.) i got his cell, and told him if i don't hear back i'll assume 10am at the art building. i then call a cab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9.45&lt;/strong&gt;: i get nervous and call bb again. he answers, saying we are meeting at 11.30.&lt;br /&gt;thanks for calling me back, bb! i call the cab and reschedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;noon&lt;/strong&gt;: finally on the road. 10 people in a 12 person van, doesn't sound bad, until you realize that 12 people means '12 very small people'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1.00 pm&lt;/strong&gt;: stop for lunch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2.00 pm&lt;/strong&gt;: stop for gas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.00 pm&lt;/strong&gt;: stop for bathroom break&lt;br /&gt;(are you sensing a pattern here?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.30 pm&lt;/strong&gt;: bb thinks we are 'at least past toledo' and cannot be convinced otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4.00 pm&lt;/strong&gt;: road sign - 'toledo 150 miles'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(we continue to stop every hour or two, because apparently everyone has the smallest bladders ever. the stops take forever because of course, if one person goes into the gas station, everyone else has to go into the gas station, where they must mill around and buy soda. thus making them have to pee again in an hour.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;midnight(ish)&lt;/strong&gt;: one of the students, pete, is driving though the mountains in the rain. bb thinks we should pull over to sleep for a few hours. he sees a sign for a state park and insists that pete take the exit. a few moments later, finding ourselves on a gravel road, surrounded by dense trees, in the driving rain, with no light to be found...bb conceeds that he may have made a mistake. i am simply happy that i will no longer be starring in the soon-to-be horror movie classic "pennsylvania state park massacre: slaying in the rain". we get back on the interstate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4348/1182/320/new%20york%20city%20002.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;                                                                                          nick, katie and i happy to be out of the woods and back on the road.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;back on the road, we continue to stop every hour or so.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4.00 am&lt;/strong&gt;: bb decides again it's time to rest, and this time at a rest stop. after much shifting and yelling at bb to stop leaving the van in reverse (the van has a backing up beep, and we can't imagine the truckers sleeping at the rest stop are enjoying it), we settle in for some very cramped sleep.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6.00 am&lt;/strong&gt;: back on the road again. off to new jersey we go! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;at this point i lose all concept of time. i've been in that van for what seems like an eternity, sitting next to a girl who could talk for an eternity. my nerves are more than shot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;we get to the washington bridge, and the chick running the toll booth for which we were in line closed it just as we got to it. because of the insane amount of people behind us, we couldn't go anywhere. laura, who was driving at the time, put on the reverse beeper (which is really freakin' loud!) and stares down the woman until she lets us through. go laura.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4348/1182/320/new%20york%20city%20004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;                                 view of the skyline from the bridge...forgive the crappy photography.  as you can see, we arrived on a nice sunny day...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9.00 am - 10.30 am&lt;/strong&gt;: in a suprisingly incident and rest-stop free trip, we get to our hotel, unload and set off for a day of art on a few hours of van sleep.  it promises to be a long day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;thus concludes the first leg of the trip.  more to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good thing about the trip:  got to meet some new people.&lt;br /&gt;bad thing about the trip: no one to come home to and tell me i was missed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;~DsA&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114263926759704152?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114263926759704152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114263926759704152' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114263926759704152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114263926759704152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/03/new-york-installation.html' title='new york installation'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114201771397011495</id><published>2006-03-10T11:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-10T11:08:34.043-08:00</updated><title type='text'>procrastination post</title><content type='html'>i hate dishes.  hate, hate, hate dishes!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have lots of dishes to do on penalty of returning in a week to a stanky apartment, but i hate doing dishes so i am putting them off by posting.  does this post have a point?...no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am officially looking forward to the nyc trip.  i can be a big girl and get over my 'new people are scary!' mentality, i just know it!  besides, i've never been there, and it's a great opportunity.  someone will have to show me how to post pictures in blogs so i can include photos when i get back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i can include images of the gloves i knit.&lt;br /&gt;(yes yes.  nerd.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and finally i'd like to include that siddu rocks for indulging me by visiting in the middle of the week, even though i was only using him for motivation to write my paper.&lt;br /&gt;:) thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114201771397011495?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114201771397011495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114201771397011495' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114201771397011495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114201771397011495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/03/procrastination-post.html' title='procrastination post'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114184024893908275</id><published>2006-03-08T09:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T09:50:49.080-08:00</updated><title type='text'>weird and edgy</title><content type='html'>so, when i posted the panda link an hour or two ago, i wanted to write other stuff as well, but i couldn't organize my thoughts any further than writing 'egh'.  i'll give it another try.&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;or perhaps 'egh' is all i can manage.  i've just tried writing a paragraph twice to no avail.  i've got these thoughts swirling around in my head and no words to echo them.  this may end up as completely fragmented thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right now i feel like i'm living in two realities...weeks and weekends.  still i know only one person in b-n with whom i am comfortable enough to socialize.  i know that is completely my fault, and i'm hoping the upcoming nyc trip will change that.  during the week i feel isolated - like i'm only here for work and school...completely alone.  and i look forward to the weekends with an almost pathetic excitement, because i spend the majority of my weekends in c-u with siddu and my friends there.  i feel like it might not be the healthiest thing for me to be like this, so dependant upon siddu for my social life...these are mistakes i've made in the past, but mistakes that are so easy to make.  i guess i am a little gun-shy after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;even though i'm doing okay in my classes, and in most cases i've read well ahead of the assignments...i feel like i'm falling behind.  it's a very weird feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my friend dave called me a little while ago to tell me he proposed to his girlfriend of three years.  i am of course completely happy for him, but i was very suprised to find myself a little jealous.  okay, more than a little.  i guess i'm so unsure about my own future that i'm envious of those who have some element figured out.  especially that element.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm nervous about this trip with the art class...i think about backing out of it at least once a day.  when did i become so afraid of social situations?  it has just gotten worse over the years.  i don't remember being like this in highschool...or my first year of college.  by the time i got around to starting drum corps though, i was an anxious mess.  what happened to me between the beginning of freshman year and the end of sophamore year?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i need a nap or a hug, quite possibly both.&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114184024893908275?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114184024893908275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114184024893908275' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114184024893908275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114184024893908275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/03/weird-and-edgy.html' title='weird and edgy'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114183360001719145</id><published>2006-03-08T07:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T08:00:00.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>paku paku!</title><content type='html'>in my love of cute silly things i present this &lt;a href="http://pakupakus.exblog.jp/i6"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you can make it through the page of fonts that don't activate and just look for links and pictures, the page is a pretty good time-waster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the point of this site (which is, i think, an attempt to create an english counterpart to a japanese site, and only worked in the fact that intro is in english) is that these little panda puppets are photographed all over the world.  AND the pandas remind me of muppets.  so how could i resist?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114183360001719145?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114183360001719145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114183360001719145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114183360001719145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114183360001719145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/03/paku-paku.html' title='paku paku!'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114167062281634894</id><published>2006-03-06T10:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-06T10:43:42.843-08:00</updated><title type='text'>either i don't get fashion or everyone around me sucks.</title><content type='html'>so, driving to the art building this morning i see this girl.  she is wearing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a big puffy down parka&lt;br /&gt;capri sweatpants (whoever invented these should die a painful death)&lt;br /&gt;a HUGE sequined bag&lt;br /&gt;high-heeled flipflops&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;funny enough, considering the combination.&lt;br /&gt;add to this the fact that is is snowing out, and you have one hilariously stupid girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, i was never in a sorority, so i don't know...but do they breed bad sense in those houses?  unfortunately every girl i see who is dressed in this "style" - flip flops, capri-length baggy sweatpants and a sequined purse when it is 30 degrees out - has greek letters on her butt.  is this a conspiracy?  if enough of them wear this strange uniform at the same time do they feel stylish?  am i the only one left who considers baggy calf-length sweatpants to be inappropriate to wear anywhere outside of lounging around or MAYBE laundry day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114167062281634894?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114167062281634894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114167062281634894' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114167062281634894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114167062281634894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/03/either-i-dont-get-fashion-or-everyone.html' title='either i don&apos;t get fashion or everyone around me sucks.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114123341142750917</id><published>2006-03-01T09:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T09:16:51.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>in addition</title><content type='html'>in addition to the last post, one of my mom's coworkers died of cancer yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;does anyone out there know if the phrases 'goosebumps' and 'i feel like a goose just walked across my grave' are related?  and if no one has heard of the second one, i swear, its a saying.  i've heard it before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;happily, nothing unsettling has happened today. &lt;br /&gt;things were wrong with the world yesterday.  i just know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114123341142750917?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114123341142750917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114123341142750917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114123341142750917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114123341142750917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/03/in-addition.html' title='in addition'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114117982350874486</id><published>2006-02-28T18:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-28T18:23:43.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>uneasy.</title><content type='html'>i've had a weird day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to start it all off, last night i had creepy, disturbing and depressing dreams.  there were two dreams - they might have been, say, chapters in a book, or acts in a play, but there were two of them.&lt;br /&gt;1. i was dying, but no one believed me.  i had a tumor, i think, and it was killing me rather quickly, but no one had time to spend time with me.  i spent the entire dream begging and pleading my friends and family to spend time with me, but they wouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;2. i'm dead, but i've been given a small amount of time to go back to say to people what i didn't get a chance to say.  it might have been a day to do this, but i was disappearing throughout the day - peices of my skin were flaking off and vanishing, and i was turning into a corpse.  at one point i dove into a pool with someone i was spending time with and my flesh was dissolving in the pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;understandably, i woke up slightly freaked out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in my first class today, about 20 minutes before class ended, my professor starting talking about his wife.  his wife, as he has mentioned to us a few times, is struggling with cancer.  this morning she told him she was starting to die.  he told us, and started crying, and left the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tonight in class the girl behind me suddenly passed out, fell to the floor and started seizuring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can i have a do-over for today?  everything seems wrong in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114117982350874486?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114117982350874486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114117982350874486' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114117982350874486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114117982350874486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/02/uneasy.html' title='uneasy.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114108404211492623</id><published>2006-02-27T15:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T16:39:30.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BIG NEWS!</title><content type='html'>first some background...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;new job= great.&lt;br /&gt;boss=BB=great. the nicest guy ever AND he thinks i am brilliant because i can&lt;br /&gt;1.create fancy looking pdf files&lt;br /&gt;2.use his computer&lt;br /&gt;3.edit&lt;br /&gt;4.magically fix the color problems on photos in photoshop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and he likes me...he thinks i'm reliable and smart. it is nice when people think you are smart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BB is the director of the gallery and he teaches a class. he is taking this class (about 10 people, i think it is a graduate class) to NYC for spring break. one of his students dropped out and he wants me to come in her place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm going to NYC for spring break!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EDIT:&lt;br /&gt;i also fixed my link list over yonder.&lt;br /&gt;( &lt;-------)&lt;br /&gt;hurray for my miniscule knowledge of html being enough to make my link list pretty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114108404211492623?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114108404211492623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114108404211492623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114108404211492623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114108404211492623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/02/big-news.html' title='BIG NEWS!'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114098916135739515</id><published>2006-02-26T13:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-26T13:26:01.806-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i enjoy being a nerd.</title><content type='html'>lately i've felt like knitting.  any reason?  probably not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT i figured out how to do some cool stuff...like putting an actual image in knitting.  i made a black square with stars.  what i'm going to do with it...i don't know.  maybe i'll make another black square, stitch the two together, and make an ipod holder.  or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but now i can make a hat with images on it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, i AM a nerd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, gloves are REALLY FREAKIN' HARD to make.&lt;br /&gt;i decided i wanted gloves to match a hat i made a few months ago.  so, i went online, looked for a glove pattern, and went to work last night around 8ish.  it was meant to be a quick diversion from paper writing...but around 4am...i had ONE glove.  granted, it is a pretty impressive glove for being hand-knit...no holes in it and it fits, well, like a glove.  (i'm so sorry.)  the question is, however, will it ever have a mate?  it might, but i doubt it will have one before it gets too warm out for gloves.  oh well.  i'm just impressed at how well it turned out...but i would hope it turned out well, i spent 8 hours on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;really, thats it.  i've been awfully boring lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i mean, i KNIT.&lt;br /&gt;boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114098916135739515?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114098916135739515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114098916135739515' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114098916135739515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114098916135739515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-enjoy-being-nerd.html' title='i enjoy being a nerd.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114057500877542476</id><published>2006-02-21T18:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T18:23:28.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>that one thing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://kevan.org/johari?name=dixieanne"&gt;http://kevan.org/johari?name=dixieanne&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114057500877542476?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114057500877542476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114057500877542476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114057500877542476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114057500877542476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/02/that-one-thing.html' title='that one thing'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114054133276481701</id><published>2006-02-21T08:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T09:02:12.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>oh the indecisiveness</title><content type='html'>so, here i am, nearing halfway through my 1st semester as an education major. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today we had a sub in my english class - a professor from the linguistic department.  and he spent the entire class talking about linguistics.  and i talked to him for awhile after class about linguistics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm going to his office later this week to further discuss linguistics, and he is going to give me a list of schools with good masters programs and give me advice about applying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someday i'd like to find something to do and stick with it.  i cycled through so many majors and near-majors as an undergrad...i was hoping i got it out of my system.  i guess not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114054133276481701?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114054133276481701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114054133276481701' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114054133276481701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114054133276481701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/02/oh-indecisiveness.html' title='oh the indecisiveness'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114024964422843096</id><published>2006-02-17T23:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-18T00:00:44.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a stripper song to go with my stripper name, and other news.</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle" bg style="color:#a0cdff;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: blackfont-family:Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;" &gt;&lt;b&gt;Your Stripper Song Is&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#c6e1ff"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="100" src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatsongshouldyoustriptoquiz/dancer.jpg" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://click.linksynergy.com/fs-bin/stat?id=CkIfgYlVpZA&amp;offerid=99176&amp;amp;type=3&amp;subid=0&amp;amp;tmpid=1826&amp;RD_PARM1=http%253A%252F%252Fphobos.apple.com%252FWebObjects%252FMZStore.woa%252Fwa%252FviewAlbum%253FselectedItemId%253D3643277%2526playListId%253D3643401%2526s%253D143441%26partnerId%3D30"&gt;Super Freak&lt;/a&gt; by Rick James&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That girl is pretty wild now&lt;br /&gt;The girl's a super freak&lt;br /&gt;The kind of girl you read about&lt;br /&gt;In new-wave magazine"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freaky? Yes. But you're also pretty darn funny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatsongshouldyoustriptoquiz/"&gt;What Song Should You Strip To?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha.  i'm always blown away at how uncannily accurate these blogspot quiz dealies can be with just a few questions (or they are almost always accurate in my case), so i have no reason to believe that this quiz would be too far off.  in conclusion, my stripper song is 'superfreak', to go with my stripper name, 'dixie st anne'.  (which comes from the usual equation of pet's name + street name.  i like it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also i got the job with the gallery director.  (yay!) however the hours are minimal, and thus i am still on the prowl for a part time job.  i picked up an application at a bakery today - baking bread sounds so...comforting.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i sat down at 8:00 to do some reading for my english class - the assignment was read pgs 101-202 in 'native tongue'.  it is now 1:30 and i finished the book at page 325.  my back is killing me because i sat in a weird position and apparently didn't move - this book completely enthalled me.  describing the book will do it no justice - i can only say it is feminist/athropologist/scifi.  NOT something i would have read if it wasn't assigned...i tend to avoid feminist literature.  but it is an amazing book, and among other things, helped me re-visit my views of feminism.  i don't consider myself feminist, but i realize i have that luxury because generations of women who came before me fought for freedoms and rights.  basically the generation of women before me have allowed me to say 'i don't consider myself a feminist'. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;the book takes place in 2179-2205, and is set on the premise that in the early 1990s, the scientific community has found conclusive evidence and proof that women are mentally inferior to men.  therefore, women are stripped of their rights as legal adults.  to quote the book briefly, "the natural limitations of women being a clear and present danger to the national welfare when not constrained by the careful and constant supervision of a responsible male citizen, all citizens of the United States of the female gender shall be deemed legally minors."  they are also forbidden to hold any elected or appointed office, forbidden to participate in scholarly or scientific professions, forbidden to hold employment outside of the home w/out permission from her husband or legal male guardian, and forbidden to excercise control over money, property or assets w/out written consent.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;this fictional world puts my freedom to be feminist or not, as i expressed above, in sharp focus.  there existed a time in history when society feared that, if a woman was exposed to too much knowledge, her uterus would dry up and she would become barren.  it is the work of women throughout history that our current society does not mirror that in the book.  and to those woman i give my utmost respect, and know that because of them i can live alone, study what i choose, vote, and live comfortably as a functioning woman in society.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;what an odd way to end a post that started with what my stripper song should be.&lt;br /&gt;and yet that is another thing for which i can thank the generations of women before me - freedom in expressions of sexuality.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;~DsA   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114024964422843096?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114024964422843096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114024964422843096' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114024964422843096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114024964422843096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/02/stripper-song-to-go-with-my-stripper.html' title='a stripper song to go with my stripper name, and other news.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-114002771859913266</id><published>2006-02-15T10:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-15T10:21:58.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ooo didn't post in awhile</title><content type='html'>not that i've been busy.  i've just been lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;new in my world: job interview friday!  everyone out there in internetland cross your fingers for me.  it is to be the personal assistant of the director of the university art galleries.  (mmm overuse of prepositional phrases.) i do not know exactly what this job entails, other than to be some guy's lackey...but he loved my resume and found me to be 'highly qualified' for whatever he has in mind for me.  personally, after talking to him on the phone, i think he was just impressed that i play instruments.  he kept asking about that.  weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;really thats it as far as whats going on.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i got pretty flowers for valentine's day! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-114002771859913266?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/114002771859913266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=114002771859913266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114002771859913266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/114002771859913266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/02/ooo-didnt-post-in-awhile.html' title='ooo didn&apos;t post in awhile'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113985486547233419</id><published>2006-02-13T10:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T10:21:05.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>well now how could i resist?</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#CCCCCC" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are Rowlf the Dog&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#DDDDDD"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/themuppetpersonalitytest/rowlf.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mellow and serious, you enjoy time alone cultivating your talents.&lt;br /&gt;You're a cool dog, and you always present a relaxed vibe.&lt;br /&gt;A talented pianist, you can play almost anything - especially songs by Beethoven.&lt;br /&gt;"My bark is worse than my bite, and my piano playing beats 'em both."&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/themuppetpersonalitytest/"&gt;The Muppet Personality Test&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113985486547233419?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113985486547233419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113985486547233419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113985486547233419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113985486547233419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/02/well-now-how-could-i-resist.html' title='well now how could i resist?'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113933680439156586</id><published>2006-02-07T10:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T10:27:55.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'>looking for something</title><content type='html'>there is something i really like about the song and the video for 'helena' by 'my chemical romance'.  i like the way the song feels, i like the way the video looks.  i like the counterculture it identifies with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i like the song (and the video with it) because of the sadness that is meant to be felt through the song.  the meloncholy.  the sound of his voice makes me long for something, the desperation makes me feel drawn toward something.  maybe because of where i am in life...desperately seeking and so close to finding...but not there yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it tries to identify with a counterculture of american youth that i wanted, and still want, to be part of, but i know i have no reason to identify with that counterculture.  i think i am wholly part of mainstream america, and i'm not sure how i feel about that.  like everyone else, i'm trying to figure out what is different about me, what makes me stand out from the crowd.  joining a counterculture - cutting my hair short, heavily lining my eyes and wearing lots of red and black - will only make me a member of that counterculture, another face in another crowd.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what makes me different?  does anything?  will anything point to my life as significant after i've departed from the living world?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like the sadness that song imparts within me.  i like the heaviness, i like the meloncholy.  i prefer rain over sun, the dark swirling skies of november over the cheerful warmth of spring.  when i'm upset i don't try to cheer myself up, instead i burrow deeper into my misery and perversely enjoy the feeling it gives me.  maybe i am part of that counterculture, without the makeup and costume that goes with it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113933680439156586?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113933680439156586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113933680439156586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113933680439156586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113933680439156586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/02/looking-for-something.html' title='looking for something'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113890039401018410</id><published>2006-02-02T09:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-02T09:13:14.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ostentatiously happy</title><content type='html'>i am not without vanity.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was reserving judgement on my english professor until i received my first graded paper.  i've been worried on what my role in this class will be - if he'll hold me to a higher standard than the rest of the class, if he'll ignore me completely...not that i'd horribly mind the first option, though i'd not at all enjoy the second...in all reality, though, i want to be treated like any other student in the class, because thats what i am.  i have more experience to fall back on when reading than the rest of the students, but still, i'm there to learn.  i had the option to fight my way out of the class but i didn't.  (i like to think that was in the interest of learning, but i know myself well enough to say it was out of pure laziness.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i got my first graded paper today.  his comments were:&lt;br /&gt;"this paper reminds me again and again why i love my job.  you don't know how wonderful it is when a student rewards me with work like this.  i love it when the student takes over as my teacher, as you have done in this paper."&lt;br /&gt;hehehe. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and there is my vanity.  it is my writing.  i like to think i've actually earned a small amount of that vanity, but again, that might be the vanity speaking.  compliment my writing and i am your friend for life.  (disregard this blog as an example.  if i'm too lazy to use the 'shift' key for capital letters, you better believe i don't spell and grammar check.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however i over-exerted myself a bit on my first paper...i shot myself in the foot and now all my writing has to match that standard.  oh well, it'll keep me from slacking off.  (i used the word 'exogenous' in the paper.  that is one hell of a standard to keep up.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113890039401018410?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113890039401018410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113890039401018410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113890039401018410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113890039401018410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/02/ostentatiously-happy.html' title='ostentatiously happy'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113872871342516136</id><published>2006-01-31T09:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-31T09:31:53.456-08:00</updated><title type='text'>still alive</title><content type='html'>why is it that a great night is always followed by someone blowing up about something?  is that just murphy's law?  people are a collective pain in my ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mini-rant about my classes - well just one of them - this damn english class.&lt;br /&gt;i like the class, as much as i hate to admit it.  i got over myself, i am not too good (though i don't think i really ever thought that, i can see how that could be misconstrued) for this class.  its an english class...i like english.  i like reading books and talking about them!  (thus i am a nerd.) however this is a young class...i think sophomore level.  in my experience, i didn't figure college out until around somewhere after my second year of college.  i think a lot of people, just from talking to others who had the same experiences i did, feel the same way.  that means most of this class hasn't figured college out.  they are still there to party, socialize, drink and sleep.  for class today we had to read the introduction to an anthology.  yes, not the most interesting read, but it had to be done, and i did it.  when asked how we felt about the reading most of the class grumbled in agreement that is was dull but informative.  &lt;br /&gt;however this group of guys (about 6 of them) somehow banded together saying how the text was pointless, boring, they couldn't get through it without falling asleep, blah blah blah.  essentially they found no reason to connect with the text.&lt;br /&gt;this is a class for ENGLISH MAJORS.  you have to be an english major to take this class.  if you can't connect to a text about READING, why are you an english major? i wanted to tell them to read it and get over it, they have at least 2 more years of reading things they might not want to, but have to get something out of anyway.  and if that doesn't sound good, change majors.  &lt;br /&gt;i just thought it was a really immature way to act, though i'm roughly four years older than these people, and the difference between 19 and 23 is pretty vast in terms of college experience.  &lt;br /&gt;that is my mini-rant.&lt;br /&gt;thank you for reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113872871342516136?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113872871342516136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113872871342516136' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113872871342516136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113872871342516136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/01/still-alive.html' title='still alive'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113848351164941661</id><published>2006-01-28T13:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-28T13:25:24.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>well since sid did it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are Rain&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#cccccc"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="100" src="http://images.blogthings.com/whattypeofweatherareyouquiz/rain.jpg" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;You can be warm and sexy. Or cold and unwelcoming.Either way, you slowly bring out the beauty around you.&lt;br /&gt;You are best known for: your touch&lt;br /&gt;Your dominant state: changing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="&lt;a"&gt;What&lt;/a&gt; Type of Weather Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113848351164941661?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113848351164941661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113848351164941661' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113848351164941661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113848351164941661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/01/well-since-sid-did-it.html' title='well since sid did it.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113815711508334560</id><published>2006-01-24T18:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T18:45:15.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>addendum on my way home.</title><content type='html'>this has been bugging me since this morning.  why has it been bugging me?  because that is my personality...i dwell on little things and fail to care enough about big things.  (example: the superficial scratches on the bottom of my bathtub annoy me slightly, but i have no problem with the fact that there are 2 holes in the wall and the ceiling seems to be slowly caving in.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what came out as 'i heart my boyfriend' should have said 'i'm actually dating someone who is good for me, and good for my personality.'  i am seldom THAT girly.  i do not write his name on my notebooks with little hearts.  when i do get that girly, it is usually involves sephora, hello kitty and drinks involving something fruity, most likely peach schnapps.  not hearts.  and if anyone can prove otherwise...i'll kill them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and what i mean is i'm dating someone who doesn't require a choice between him and a social life, or him and my friends, or him and my natural state-of-being (i.e. napping and being messy.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there.  i've said my peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113815711508334560?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113815711508334560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113815711508334560' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113815711508334560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113815711508334560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/01/addendum-on-my-way-home.html' title='addendum on my way home.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113812363269360967</id><published>2006-01-24T09:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T09:27:12.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>slowly emerging from my 4 year stint of perpetual grumpiness</title><content type='html'>right now, at this very moment of my life, with debt looming maliciously over my head along with the pack of cigarette-smoking elephants living above me - (its a one bedroom apartment, how much walking around can you possibly be doing?  and do you have to have 2 tvs on at all time?) - i think i might be the happiest i've been in a very very long time...possibly ever.  and though i've never been one to 'count my blessings' - i've always found that phrase to be in conjunction with a lecture on why i'm a spoiled brat - i'd like to at least share this new-found happiness with whomsoever might be reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  i live by myself.  i like being alone.  pretty simple.&lt;br /&gt;2.  expounding on no. 1, i am a recovering introvert.  at one point in my life i was social and outgoing...starting around november of my second year of college i retreated into my dorm room and threatened never to come out again.  i'm finally recovering.&lt;br /&gt;3.  my computer is finally going to the doctor.  soon i will again have a functioning cdrom drive.&lt;br /&gt;4.  i love school!!&lt;br /&gt;5.  i feel like my classes are preparing me for something, rather than the last time around, where i perused the course catalogue and signed up for stuff that looked fun.  i like the feeling of preparing for something.  it gives homework a whole new importance.&lt;br /&gt;6.  i found my student i.d. this morning.  it was missing and i was wondering how in the hell i lost it already, it's only the second week of the sememster.&lt;br /&gt;7.  my mom again proved she is the most generous person ever and suprised me with the leather messenger bag i've been coveting since october.  i'm more than touched.&lt;br /&gt;8.  my friends notice when i drop off the face of the earth.  small, but it means a lot to someone who notoriously assumes no one cares.&lt;br /&gt;9.  i *heart* my boyfriend.  (girly and frivolous, but thats a big part of it!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats not even close to all of it, but yall get the point. &lt;br /&gt;i'm actually &lt;em&gt;happy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113812363269360967?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113812363269360967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113812363269360967' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113812363269360967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113812363269360967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/01/slowly-emerging-from-my-4-year-stint.html' title='slowly emerging from my 4 year stint of perpetual grumpiness'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113777420206520463</id><published>2006-01-20T08:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T08:23:22.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>happy thoughts</title><content type='html'>i have a big orange ski coat.  it isn't exactly unique (like most of my other coats) - i got it at american eagle a few years ago.  but...not a lot of people opted for the traffic cone look, like i seem to gravitate to (again, i own orange AND yellow cords.)  however, walking from my classroom to the exit of the building i passed &lt;strong&gt;three&lt;/strong&gt; girls wearing the exact same coat. &lt;br /&gt;it was like a herd of traffic cones, and it made me smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wednesday i finished all my classes for the day at 9:50.  yesterday i finished at 10:50.  today, again, it was 9:50.  i don't have a job...and all of my homework is reading.  and i read fast.  therefore, i'm done with homework by (if i procrastinate) 3ish.  so, last night...after watching toy story AND beetlejuice, playing nintendo and forever trying to fix my cdrom drive...i cleaned my apartment, took the last of my clothes out of suitcases, lit all the candles and brewed some tea and just sat, looking around my place.  and i felt very happy.  this is MY place.  i don't have to argue with anyone about what goes where, or who gets the tv.  if the living room is messy, its my own fault.  if the kitchen smells funky...again, my own fault.  and i'm happy with that.  i like my apartment (although the people above me are REALLY loud) and i like livng on my own.  hooray for being happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, its 10:20 and my day has been done for 30 minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113777420206520463?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113777420206520463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113777420206520463' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113777420206520463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113777420206520463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/01/happy-thoughts.html' title='happy thoughts'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113755314342514366</id><published>2006-01-17T18:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T18:59:03.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my triumphant return</title><content type='html'>after a long hiatus for shopping, painting, packing and moving, i've returned.  i still don't have internet in my apartment, but at least i found a damn computer lab. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm in my new place!  and after much arguing with shelves and tables and couches and tables that couches don't go under, i've got my living room arranged so not only everything fits, but most importantly, you can see the tv from anywhere you sit.  though right now that isn't too important...i don't have cable.  or a cable to connect the tv to the wall.  i've been watching a lot of movies lately.  to go with my tiny living room, i have a GIGANTIC kitchen.  i have more kitchen than my parents had in any house prior to the one they live in now.  i have so much storage that i may be putting clothes in my kitchen cabinets.  i kid you not...there are at &lt;em&gt;least&lt;/em&gt; 25 drawers and doors...all leading to storage enouch for a family of four.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today was also my first day of classes...i only got lost going to one class.  which, i might add, is a pain in the ass when it's cold out and it turns out the building you are looking for is further away than you want to walk in the cold.  my first class today was 'intro to english studies' which i am fighting my way out of, with much resistance on the part of isu.  this class is the first class anyone who wishes to major in english must take. &lt;br /&gt;however...&lt;br /&gt;i have a DEGREE in english. &lt;br /&gt;not only do i have a DEGREE in english, i have a degree in english from one of the TOP ENGLISH PROGRAMS in the NATION.  on top of this ENGLISH DEGREE i have experience working in a PUBLISHING HOUSE!!!  isu is trying to tell me that their program is more comprehensive and therefore, even though i have a DEGREE and have already used this degree for work...i must take this class.&lt;br /&gt;to isu i say "&lt;strong&gt;BULLSHIT&lt;/strong&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my second class today was much better...my first real education class.  and i love my professor...she is fun and energetic and my classmates are all transfer students or people who got a liberal arts degree a year or two ago and then went 'oh crap' and ran back to school for an education degree.  however this class reinforces my theory that everyone in the midwest knows eachother.  on top of the fact that i interviewed with a guy today who graduated high school with a friend of mine from the hawkeye marching band, in this class is a guy who transfered from u of iowa (who knows people i know), and another guy who grew up in dubuque and transfered from luther...and promptly named off at least 5 people i marched with in colts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyone in the midwest knows eachother.  i'm sure of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113755314342514366?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113755314342514366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113755314342514366' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113755314342514366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113755314342514366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/01/my-triumphant-return.html' title='my triumphant return'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113644528949050021</id><published>2006-01-04T22:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T23:14:49.613-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hostile takeover meets rebecca cole</title><content type='html'>in nine days i move into my new place, and not too long ago i found myself unable to sleep because i was too busy planning how i'd decorate and arrange my apartment.  (as in, how i should arrange my new lamps in my bookcase, if my couch should go at an angle or against the wall...if my 'the who' poster should go centered on the wall, or off to the side with my 'yield' and 'do not enter' signs next to it...) not only am i a nerd, but i'm a girl...i'm a nerdy girl.  i confess, i watch home improvement shows (i think i've seen just about every episode of 'this old house'),decorating shows (i never missed 'suprise by design' sophomore year of college), 'what not to wear', and food network.  all this should be training me to be a trendy, handy, domestic gal, but instead i think it might just make me bossy.  i'm so excited about moving into my own place and decorating and organizing and using all the new kitchen stuff i got from my grandparents that i took it out on sid...i declared his room in need of help (like i'm one to talk) and essentially went 'what not to wear' on his living space.  i feel slightly bad about my hostile takeover...but at least now his comforter covers the entire bed, the sheets have been cleaned in recent memory, and he owns two towels instead of just one.  (which is for my benefit, mostly; i suck at remembering to pack a towel when i visit people.)  i'm sure his roomate and his roomate's girlfriend think i'm a pushy pain-in-the-ass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well....i am!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113644528949050021?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113644528949050021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113644528949050021' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113644528949050021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113644528949050021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/01/hostile-takeover-meets-rebecca-cole.html' title='hostile takeover meets rebecca cole'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113617456732552848</id><published>2006-01-01T19:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-01T20:02:48.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i got nothing.</title><content type='html'>i was going to give an account of my new years eve celebration, which was really fun (and i actually came out ahead in poker) until around 12:15 when a very drunk and very belligerent M got drunk and belligerent.  and i know if i write about it i'll complain about him, so instead of my whining here is the meme i grabbed from red's blog.  i swear, soon i will get around to writing an entry and not just stealing whatever red posts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?&lt;br /&gt;~crap, i forgot to take my contacts out last night.&lt;br /&gt;2. How much cash do you have on you?&lt;br /&gt;~the 12 dollars i won in the poker game last night&lt;br /&gt;3. What's a word that rhymes with "TEST"?&lt;br /&gt;~rest&lt;br /&gt;4. Favorite planet?&lt;br /&gt;~i feel compelled to say saturn.&lt;br /&gt;5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell?&lt;br /&gt;~my mom&lt;br /&gt;6. What is your favorite ring on your phone?&lt;br /&gt;~i only have one ring tone.  it sounds like an old fashioned phone.&lt;br /&gt;7. What kind of shirt are you wearing?&lt;br /&gt;~a blue tshirt&lt;br /&gt;8. Do you "label" yourself?&lt;br /&gt;~i'm a big nerd.  does that count?&lt;br /&gt;9. Name the brand of your shoes you're currently wearing?&lt;br /&gt;~right now i'm barefoot&lt;br /&gt;10. Bright or dark room?&lt;br /&gt;~right now i have 5 of the 6 lamps in my room and the tv on.  its pretty bright in here.&lt;br /&gt;11. What do you think about the person who took this survey before you?&lt;br /&gt;~i'm really glad red and i are friends!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.katieromo.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;13. what happened to number 12?&lt;br /&gt;~i'm confused by this question.&lt;br /&gt;14. What were you doing at midnight last night?&lt;br /&gt;~drinking champaign with my friends and not getting a proper new years kiss. &lt;br /&gt;15. What did your last text message you received on your cell say?&lt;br /&gt;~up up up (thats exactly what it says.)&lt;br /&gt;16. Where is your nearest 7-11?&lt;br /&gt;~about a mile away.&lt;br /&gt;17. What's a saying that you say a lot?&lt;br /&gt;~rageahol!&lt;br /&gt;18.Who told you they loved you last?&lt;br /&gt;~one of my parents, i'm sure&lt;br /&gt;19. Last furry thing you touched?&lt;br /&gt;~the family dog.&lt;br /&gt;20. How Many Drugs Have You Done In The Past three Days?&lt;br /&gt;~alcohol and birth control&lt;br /&gt;21. How many rolls of film do you need to get developed?&lt;br /&gt;~none, but i need to get some real copies of digital photos so i can actually have some framed pictures in my new place&lt;br /&gt;22. Favorite age you have been so far?&lt;br /&gt;~18 was pretty good to me.&lt;br /&gt;23. Your worst enemy?&lt;br /&gt;~probably myself&lt;br /&gt;24. What is your current desktop picture?&lt;br /&gt;~one of the images that comes with windows xp&lt;br /&gt;25. What was the last thing you said to someone?&lt;br /&gt;~i'm talking to michelle&lt;br /&gt;26. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to change a major regret?&lt;br /&gt;~one of my very favorite quotes is this:&lt;br /&gt;'imagine one day struck out of your life, and think how different its course would have been. pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain or iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would have never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day'.  its by charles dickens, and i like it in the fact that it makes me think that every choice i've made, and every choice others have made involving me, has lead me to this moment in time.  and at this moment in time, i'm pretty happy.  in conclusion, i'd take the million dollars.&lt;br /&gt;27. Do you like or love somebody right now? i sure do.&lt;br /&gt;12. Is the practice of leaving questions out of memes stupid? i don't care?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113617456732552848?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113617456732552848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113617456732552848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113617456732552848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113617456732552848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-got-nothing.html' title='i got nothing.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113574842193472684</id><published>2005-12-27T21:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-27T21:40:22.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'>yoinked this from red.</title><content type='html'>merry belated christmas!&lt;br /&gt;happy early new year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What is the best gift you received this year? (Tangible gifts only, please!)&lt;br /&gt;~this is tough...best gift i asked for is the brett favre jersey (yes, i know, packers suck, blah blah blah) but i look awfully cute in it (it's a woman's jersey, so it fits like a tight tshirt), and brett favre is my one and only celebrately crush, and damnit, i like it.  best unexpected gift is a little jewelry box/music box i got from my grandmother that says 'dear granddaughter, i was never so blessed as the day you were born' and plays 'you are so beautiful to me'...which was just really sweet and touching.&lt;br /&gt;(i got other great gifts and a ton of stuff for my apartment, AND ddr, but those two really stand out.)&lt;br /&gt;2. What is the best gift you gave this year?&lt;br /&gt;~sid's mosaic, because it was a lot of fun to make and i think he really liked it.&lt;br /&gt;3. When did you do most of your shopping/creating?&lt;br /&gt;~the shopping started with my trip to the MOA with &lt;a href="www.theycallmered.blogspot.com"&gt;red &lt;/a&gt;and the creating ended about half an hour before i gave sid his mosaic.&lt;br /&gt;4. Did you go shopping the day after Thanksgiving (U.S.)?&lt;br /&gt;~there were tentative plans that went right out the window around 3:00 AM.&lt;br /&gt;5. What stands out already about Christmas 2005?&lt;br /&gt;~my mom was a bit more sentimental than usual because not only am i moving out again in a few weeks, but i think she realizes i'm moving out for good.  other than that i'm glad to have great friends and family...i feel like going into 2006 will be much brighter than going into 2005...i'm healthy (physically, mentally and emotionally), i'm happy, i'm only minorly in debt, and i'm really looking forward to what the new year brings.  basically everything i said last time...what can i say...right now i am one lucky little girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;see ya'll in 2006,&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113574842193472684?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113574842193472684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113574842193472684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113574842193472684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113574842193472684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/12/yoinked-this-from-red.html' title='yoinked this from red.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113521556274602538</id><published>2005-12-21T17:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T17:39:22.820-08:00</updated><title type='text'>they call me the grouchy ladybug</title><content type='html'>ooph i've been driving a lot in the last few days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friday-sunday: iowa city.&lt;br /&gt;it was great seeing people again, great seeing iowa city again, great seeing the store with the kitties running around in it again.  that was my first time back since the emotional messiness of the summer, and the visit sent me into a little bit of a manic-depression...at its height with a warm hug from a friend as she said 'you'll always have friends here' and its low as i drove around iowa city feeling memories (both amazing and heartbreaking) wash over me.  a part of me will never leave iowa city, and a part of me can never go back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;monday-wednesday: champaign/urbana&lt;br /&gt;i needed a few days of lounging, being silly and of christmas shopping. &lt;br /&gt;...there is so much more i want to say here, but i don't think i can without getting dopey and girly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the last few days have been full of highs and lows...goofy, can't-stop-laughing highs and crushing, sobbing-until-i-feel-my-heart-has-finally-broken lows.  the last few days reflect 2005 - i've had a hard year, an emotionally exhausting year.  there were some amazing days...weeks...reconnecting with a very dear friend, lots of traveling, the cautious start of a new relationship...but so much of this took place in the latter half of the year.  Loneliness, indesiciveness, insecurity, disappointment and malaise dominated 2005 for me.  I'm ready for a new year.  a new start - i'm moving to a new place, with new people...i'll have my own apartment and i'll be starting a new phase of my life.  i'm really excited and optimistic that this year will be so much better than the last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with that, i'm off to wrap christmas presents.&lt;br /&gt;happy holidays,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113521556274602538?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113521556274602538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113521556274602538' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113521556274602538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113521556274602538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/12/they-call-me-grouchy-ladybug.html' title='they call me the grouchy ladybug'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113465522032983630</id><published>2005-12-15T05:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-15T06:00:20.330-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hallelujiah</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LAST DAY!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought this day would never come.  now just to make it until 3:30.  without running around city hall screaming 'i'm done, bitch!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this weekend i'm headed to the ic with d for some much needed fun - this fun includes a holiday party, two graduation parties, various dinners and assorted barcrawls.  and an early lunch on sunday with ex roomie e.  my goal is to be alive and coherant for lunch with e.  we will see if that happens the weekend's events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats it, quick update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113465522032983630?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113465522032983630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113465522032983630' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113465522032983630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113465522032983630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/12/hallelujiah.html' title='hallelujiah'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113458703611049710</id><published>2005-12-14T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-14T11:03:56.130-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i have funny images in my head</title><content type='html'>so, i'm at a different desk.  at this desk, there are papers tacked up around me.  one of them has a list of stuff written on it.  in this list is the phrase...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"sewer recapture"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all by itself, with no context.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now all i can think of is men with nets and a dogcatchers truck stalking a sewer.  what a singular sewer looks like...i don't know.  in my head it is a cartoon pipe with a grate at the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah thats all i've got today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;red your link is back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113458703611049710?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113458703611049710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113458703611049710' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113458703611049710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113458703611049710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/12/i-have-funny-images-in-my-head.html' title='i have funny images in my head'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113449895385839423</id><published>2005-12-13T10:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T10:35:53.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>bipolar alert!</title><content type='html'>i'm having the week from hell.  i think i've temporarily gone bipolar.  everything freaks me out one minute, and the next i'm so apathetic that i don't care if i just slide right off the earth.  i HATE the holidays.  yes, i will say it.  i HATE christmas.  it puts me in the foulest of moods!  also i'm pretty susceptible to seasonal affective disorder.  which might have me in its cruel grasp right now.  regardless, i've been a bitch to be around for the past couple days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;grr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now, the conversation that must be posted for the world to see.&lt;br /&gt;dad: i watched 'the two towers' last night.  it confused the hell out of me.&lt;br /&gt;me: howso?&lt;br /&gt;dad: well, explain this to me.  there are these...creatures, and they are attacking one thing, and these trees...they are just talking, and then there are dinosaurs...they are attacking something, but they aren't where the trees are.&lt;br /&gt;me: (attempting to explain the plot and that no, those weren't dinosaurs.)&lt;br /&gt;dad: but then the trees were on fire.  and there was a flood.  but it wasn't where the creatures were.&lt;br /&gt;me: (attempting to explain more plot.)&lt;br /&gt;dad: and the guy in white?  where did he come from? &lt;br /&gt;me: (furiously explaining plot)...dad, did you see the first movie?&lt;br /&gt;dad: there was a first movie?&lt;br /&gt;me: yes.  that would be why you are so confused.  this is the second movie out of three movies.&lt;br /&gt;dad: they made a third?  there are so many plot holes in the one i watched, i can't imagine anyone even went to see the third.&lt;br /&gt;me: ...ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i'm going to resume freaking out about everything.&lt;br /&gt;anyone have advice on how to chill out?  i'm driving myself up the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113449895385839423?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113449895385839423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113449895385839423' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113449895385839423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113449895385839423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/12/bipolar-alert.html' title='bipolar alert!'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113427324032123251</id><published>2005-12-10T19:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T19:54:00.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'>and i'm done</title><content type='html'>out of curiosity today i googled 'dixie st anne' and found this page.  me and my blog are mentioned near the bottom of the page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.thedailypage.com/daily/node/453&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is anyone else freaked out by this?  or is it just me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;regardless, i don't think i'm going to post anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113427324032123251?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113427324032123251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113427324032123251' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113427324032123251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113427324032123251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/12/and-im-done.html' title='and i&apos;m done'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113424858802328014</id><published>2005-12-10T12:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T13:03:08.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hopped up on diet coke and e.l.fudge cookies</title><content type='html'>bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;might see narnia this evening, might go to dan's place in chicago...right now i'm watching goonies on cartoon network.  last i checked goonies is not a cartoon, but, whatever.  the little asian boy might as well be a cartoon with all those gadgets.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 days of work left...happy dance!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i want to get a little love seat and a dresser for my new apartment.  i can have it furnished with no extra expense if i want...but if i buy those two things i'll have everything i need to furnish it myself, and then it would be all my stuff.  and it would match. :)  besides, the couch they would give me is gigantic, and the apartment is extra-tiny.  i'd rather spend money on a love seat and not have to crawl over the couch to get to the kitchen.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm really really excited to move in...i'm really excited to start school.  i'm also excited for people to come home to keep me company.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have to pay for my bridesmaid dress this month for the wedding i'll be in in june...nothing like having to pay for a 200 dollar dress on top of everything else right around christmas.  grrr.  good thing i have a high limit on my credit card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113424858802328014?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113424858802328014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113424858802328014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113424858802328014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113424858802328014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/12/hopped-up-on-diet-coke-and-elfudge.html' title='hopped up on diet coke and e.l.fudge cookies'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113415183331331933</id><published>2005-12-09T10:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T10:10:33.330-08:00</updated><title type='text'>snow.</title><content type='html'>i had a shameful amount of fun this morning at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since nature dumped half a foot of snow on us last night, there is understandably quite a bit of snow on the ground.  the plows didn't get to the little streets until 9 or 10 am today.  well, i left city hall around 7:30 to do fence inspections, which involves ONLY little streets.  but today i took the jeep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oooh, what fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i put that thing in 4 wheel drive and went offroading on the unplowed streets.  granted i got some funny looks from driveway-shoveling citizens when i went flying by them in my city jeep laughing insanely...but damnit, i enjoyed this job for perhaps the first time today.  and i kinda felt like i was in a jeep commercial. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i want a jeep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mmm misappropriation of city vehicles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113415183331331933?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113415183331331933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113415183331331933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113415183331331933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113415183331331933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/12/snow.html' title='snow.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113407679517854841</id><published>2005-12-08T13:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-08T13:19:55.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>points of interest</title><content type='html'>1. snow!  thick, heavy, snow!  it looks like a snowglobe out there.  its beautiful.  however the roads suck.  so i will probably not think it is so beautiful about 2 minutes into my drive home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. i found an apartment!  it is tiny, but it is one bedroom (not a studio) and heat, water, hot water and gas are paid for.  and its all mine.  i'm so happy, and really excited to move in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. i hope this new years doesn't suck.  usually new years sucks for me.  a quick rundown of the past few new years...&lt;br /&gt;     ~99/00~ invited to two parties, one with my friends and one with my date's friends.  we spent the majority of the night at his friends' party because i'm a pushover.  i didn't have fun and didn't get a kiss at midnight because he was too busy running laps around the neighborhood with all his track buddies.  (my date was a meathead.)&lt;br /&gt;     ~00/01~ roughly the same scenario, though i did have friends at both parties, but different date.  this one wasn't a meathead but a sulky partypooper, and while i got my kiss at midnight, he whined the entire time about a headache, which really meant he didn't want me talking to the other guys at the parties.&lt;br /&gt;     ~01/02~ watched 'when harry met sally' in my bathrobe on my parents couch, alone.&lt;br /&gt;     ~02/03~ i was the whiny headachey party pooper with a half-torn off fingernail (ouch) and sulked in my hotel room in miami.  C, like the good boyfriend he could be, stayed with me.  that year was my own fault.&lt;br /&gt;     ~03/04~ that year rocked.  on the beach in tampa bay with the rest of the marching band, running around drunk on a bottle of champaign and half a bottle of (warm) raspberry vodka.  i think i kissed everyone!&lt;br /&gt;     ~04/05~ promised a night out...got dressed up for a night out...sat on C's couch and watched espn for 5 hours with him and his brother.  woot.  went home and slept for an hour and then took my roomate to the emergency room, where i stayed for 5 more hours...watching espn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm due for a kick ass new years, damnit!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats all i've got right now.&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113407679517854841?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113407679517854841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113407679517854841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113407679517854841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113407679517854841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/12/points-of-interest.html' title='points of interest'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113393573974536413</id><published>2005-12-06T22:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-06T22:28:02.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'>apartment hunting part deux</title><content type='html'>tomorrow i resume the apartment search.  i refuse to have a roomate!  i want to live alone like the grumpy hermitess i am, damnit!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and my head hurts.  bitch and whine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;really, i'm in a great mood.  its just hidden under more pressing issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh and because blogger sucks i had to post it elsewhere.  but i took a silly test.  and the test took too long not to post.  so here it is, if anyone is so inclined. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/dixie_st_anne/"&gt;http://www.livejournal.com/users/dixie_st_anne/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113393573974536413?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113393573974536413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113393573974536413' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113393573974536413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113393573974536413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/12/apartment-hunting-part-deux.html' title='apartment hunting part deux'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113347200758264870</id><published>2005-12-01T13:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T13:21:00.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'>do do dooo</title><content type='html'>everyone do the 4 day week/weekend in urbana/lookin' for an apartment/9 days of work left happy dance!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(do do dooo)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113347200758264870?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113347200758264870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113347200758264870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113347200758264870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113347200758264870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/12/do-do-dooo.html' title='do do dooo'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113344655421261167</id><published>2005-12-01T05:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T06:17:57.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>wow!  its december?!</title><content type='html'>good lord! when did that happen! i'm not sure i'm ready for it to be december. i mean, i don't know why i wouldn't be ready for december...but still. did time speed up somewhere since graduation? have i really been out of college for a year? good thing i'm going back. its scary out here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as an appropriate first day of december, it is snowing like mad out. which made driving to work fun and exciting. my car essentially ice skated around the corner of my court. whee! i really do like snow. i will probably be complaining about it by february...but i kinda like cold weather. don't get me wrong...i hate to BE cold...but i like all the stuff that comes with cold, snowy weather...like having the fireplace on, the way everything looks covered in new snow, winter comfort food (mmm beef stew), sweaters, winter coats...and as long as i'm prepared to go outside, i'm an expert at not getting too cold. i walked everywhere in the winter in college...but because my coat makes me look like the yeti of candyland i can go anywhere and stay warm! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i spent a small fortune on good yarn yesterday. i'm making a purse. and it actually looks like a purse. knitting amazes me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i keep checking C's blog, even though i feel sneaky doing it. if i want to know what is going on with his life i should just ask him...but...i dunno. he is so busy and i can't ever seem to work up enough conviction to have more than a short conversation with him.&lt;br /&gt;he is so sad. and depressed. and miserable. and i feel so bad for him. and i wish i could do something for him, but there is nothing i can do, really. he pushed me out of his life, which he needed to do (i understand that) and i hurt, and i healed, and now i'm actually pretty happy with my life. happier than i've been in the last year and a half, anyway. he, on the other hand, is absolutely miserable. if i were a different person i'd feel vindicated in that misery but i've never been that kind of person. i've never wished pain on anyone, especially someone i love. i just wish he could find something to make him happy. thats all i've ever wanted for C...for him to simply be happy.&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113344655421261167?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113344655421261167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113344655421261167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113344655421261167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113344655421261167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/12/wow-its-december.html' title='wow!  its december?!'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113335922407937659</id><published>2005-11-30T05:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T06:00:24.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the official count is 10 days...</title><content type='html'>because i'm taking friday off, and yesterday my supervisor asked me 'when is your last day? is it the 15th? that thursday? thursday the 15th?' he seemed so adamant that my last day be thursday the 15th, i just went with it. one less day in hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night i hit the last three toes of my left foot on the doorway to my room. which hurt like a bitch, but seeing as i'm a klutz and don't look where i'm going, my toes are used to such abuse. usually it hurts for a couple minutes and then goes away. but today one of my toes is bent a little funny and hurts a lot. ouch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is anyone else perversely happy when it isn't sunny out? i know i sure am. i like dreary, damp, gray weather.&lt;br /&gt;or is that just me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm the worst bridesmaid ever - i keep forgetting to get measured. it was due a week and a half ago. and the bride reminded me last night. i think i'll head over to david's bridal and get measured as soon as they open. but i really don't want to stand in front of someone in my underwear, ever. much less today. my legs are fuzzy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just opened my city email and one of the subjects started with 'national drunk and drugged...' and i was hoping the last word of that was 'day'.  it would make this job so much more interesting.  alas it ended with 'driving prevention month'.  not nearly as exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah, thats all i've got.&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113335922407937659?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113335922407937659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113335922407937659' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113335922407937659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113335922407937659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/official-count-is-10-days.html' title='the official count is 10 days...'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113329995811408620</id><published>2005-11-29T13:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T13:32:38.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'>pure unbridled rage</title><content type='html'>officer e.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she has been my nemesis since i started here.  she's nice enough...sure...but any work she doesn't want to do, she merrily passes on to me.  99% of the time that means i'm hanging my head in shame while dodging traffic and picking up illegal signs on street corners.  whenever my mom sees people doing menial jobs...like plucking illegal signs off street corners...she has a habit of saying, 'well aren't you glad you have a college degree'.  thirty minutes ago, at the corner of ogden and aurora, there was a mother in one of those cars pointing me out to her teenager saying 'see, sweetie...that's why you go to college.  so you don't end up doing that for a living'.  though that isn't the point of my rage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my point is...its cold.  and windy.  and snowy. &lt;br /&gt;and e calls me saying 'its just a few tiny signs at the corner of feldott and ogden.  can you swing by and pick those up for me?  thanks!'  &lt;br /&gt;i grumble yes.&lt;br /&gt;i get to feldott and ogden, i see one huge ass sign.  against my better judgement i call e, asking her if i was correct in finding only one (huge ass) sign.  she goes on to say 'well, there are a few at the corner of of aurora and ogden, and at the jewel parking lot exit...' etc etc.  i compose myself and say 'oh, i must have only heard you say feldott and ogden'.  i know damn well she only said feldott and ogden.  so i go gather the rest of the tiny (huge ass) signs, which involve crossing ogden and aurora (twice).  and its FUCKING FREEZING.  and the signs are muddy.  so now my coat is muddy.  and some jackass honks at me and hangs halfway out his truck window to shout something involving 'baby'.  (its windy.  i can't hear the rest.)  and i get back to my car.  and in the process of untangling my scarf from the muddy, rusty metal part of the sign, i rip my scarf. &lt;br /&gt;so i'm frozen, muddy, my scarf is ripped, and i've been verbally accosted by someone driving a plumbers truck because e is too lazy to get off her FAT ASS and DO HER JOB.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i fucking hate e.&lt;br /&gt;she is a big fat bitch.&lt;br /&gt;rage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel better now.&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113329995811408620?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113329995811408620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113329995811408620' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113329995811408620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113329995811408620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/pure-unbridled-rage.html' title='pure unbridled rage'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113327105514370886</id><published>2005-11-29T05:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T05:31:14.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>last week of regular updates...</title><content type='html'>sadly, this will be my last week of posting everyday. starting dec. 5 i will have a new desk because a new code enforcement officer is hijacking mine. my new desk is more like a milk crate with a computer on it...and it is also positioned so anyone walking down the main walkway of our floor can look over my shoulder. so i will have significantly less oppourtunity to simply play on the computer and waste an hour doing nothing, like i do every morning. (like right now!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;actually thursday will be my last day. friday i'll be in urbana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i might still update, but most likely i'll forget. so, anyone who has been reading this blog and not commenting (i know there are a lot of you! my counter didn't jump up to 300+ by itself!)...you'll have to keep in touch with me the old fashioned way. well, as old fashioned as email and AIM are. which aren't old fashioned at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news friday is my first advising appointment at ISU - i'm actually excited to finally go and see campus! i've only been to ISU once (at least...i THINK i have...) but it was during drum corps so i saw a parking lot, wherever we warmed up, the stadium and the parking lot again. of course, that could have been any parking lot and stadium. but anyway, friday is my first official visit, and either saturday, or friday and saturday, i will apartment hunt, making sid's place my base of operations. (i am slowly taking over...weekend by weekend...&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;evil laugh.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;) sadly saturday night is the annual birthday barcrawl for a friend of mine, a barcrawl i've gone on since its inception. i'd love to think i'm going to drive over to iowa saturday night...but seeing as i'm lazy...it might not happen. sad!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, thats all i've got today.&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113327105514370886?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113327105514370886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113327105514370886' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113327105514370886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113327105514370886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/last-week-of-regular-updates.html' title='last week of regular updates...'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113318738983542048</id><published>2005-11-28T05:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T06:16:29.886-08:00</updated><title type='text'>blog of random thoughts</title><content type='html'>i wrote a long weekend update, and blogger didn't like that.  therefore it is forever lost.  i am not motivated enough to write it again, so here is something different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is 56 degrees and raining.   what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not expressing how you feel is a great way to kill a relationship.  i think i might be overly expressive.  i need to back off, or i'll find another great way to kill a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope C is happy.  sincerely.  i think of him a lot, and he deserves happiness - and with all my heart i hope he finds it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the musical 'wicked' is not that good, but ana gasteyer has a great voice.  i wish i was that talented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in 24 hours M has informed me that he does not want to be my friend, that he wants to be my friend, that there is no point to our friendship, that he feels comfortable with me, that i make it difficult to talk to me, that i should call him tomorrow to just 'chat about nothing' and that i am cruel.  i'm so confused that i've just started agreeing with everything.  it seems easier than arguing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i remember, around this time last year, running into 2 of C's friends (co-workers from starbucks, i can't remember exactly) when i was with him, two very attractive girls.  because he never mentioned me to his friends (to my knowledge) and he didn't introduce me at that moment, i stood there in the background while they blatently flirted with him.  i felt so small and insignificant and...ugly.  i hope i never feel that way again.  i'm not sure why i chose to remember that all of the sudden.  i rather wish i didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my throat hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is nothing more frustrating than being excited about something and not being able to shout it from the rooftops, so to speak. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113318738983542048?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113318738983542048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113318738983542048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113318738983542048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113318738983542048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/blog-of-random-thoughts.html' title='blog of random thoughts'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113275487338974129</id><published>2005-11-23T06:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T06:07:53.406-08:00</updated><title type='text'>addendum</title><content type='html'>oh!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;forgot about this until now.&lt;br /&gt;this morning on the radio news they said that the official catholic stance is that they will not allow homosexuals or anyone supporting homosexuality to become clergy, but they will allow former homosexuals to become clergy.  the next story started with 'it has been revealed that the pope wears red prada shoes and gucci sunglasses..." i had to get out of the car at this point so i don't know what the point of the story was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but the segue is priceless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, i have 'head over feet' stuck in my head.&lt;br /&gt;damn you alanis morrisette!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113275487338974129?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113275487338974129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113275487338974129' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113275487338974129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113275487338974129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/addendum.html' title='addendum'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113275390849385177</id><published>2005-11-23T05:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T05:53:38.323-08:00</updated><title type='text'>we now continue with our regularly scheduled programming</title><content type='html'>my last post made NO SENSE WHATSOEVER. so i deleted it. i was running on very very little sleep. and i can't think clearly. (this is regardless of how much sleep i get. i'm pretty much useless for anything other than lounging in bed for 6 hours.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there was an underlying point. it wasn't a good point. here is a better point - i am one happy girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news it snowed this morning! not just a few flurries that don't stick to anything but cold metal surfaces like a few days ago, but SNOW! i actually had to use the brush on my scraper to see out my window! its everywhere! (yay.) this also means that the official winter coat has made an appearence. i am now clad in calf length cream-colored flannel with pink flowers and fuzzy trim. i'm the coolest girl in the office now. (the coat gives me the edge.) i love this coat and i love the first snow of the season just so i can break this coat out. i'm sure if i ever have a daughter and the foresight to keep this coat i will try and foist it on her as my mom does with her old coats...and she will say 'ew, i can't believe you wore this'. it is THAT kind of coat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need to get going on christmas shopping - i have two gifts for my mom bought, gifts for two of my friends are in the process of being created, a gift for another friend only exists in theory...and that is it. my mall of america trip failed me. i bought too many things for myself and only two things for anyone else. :( i suck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and that is it. in summary.&lt;br /&gt;happy girl.&lt;br /&gt;snow= fun coat&lt;br /&gt;christmas shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;happy girl.&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113275390849385177?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113275390849385177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113275390849385177' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113275390849385177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113275390849385177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/we-now-continue-with-our-regularly.html' title='we now continue with our regularly scheduled programming'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113266821765549128</id><published>2005-11-22T05:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T21:52:58.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113266821765549128?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113266821765549128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113266821765549128' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113266821765549128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113266821765549128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/blog-post_22.html' title=''/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113258215439490301</id><published>2005-11-21T05:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T06:11:08.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>:)</title><content type='html'>hooray for a really good weekend!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i took amtrak up to minneapolis for shopping and catching up with &lt;a href="http://www.theycallmered.blogspot.com"&gt;red&lt;/a&gt;, which was most excellent... gonna be sappy and say its really nice to have my friend back in my life again. and the mall of america is MUCH better when you actually go to shop, not because you are a. bored with nothing else to do (band trip and road trip) or b. forced to go (drum corps). i fully endorse taking the train anywhere if given the option...its so much nicer than driving by yourself, and as long as it is cheaper than flying its a great deal. besides...two words. SNACK CAR! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the 8 hour ride gave me time to nap, knit, snack, read and mull over everything going on in my life. C wrote a blog entry that i was very plainly meant to read - in fact he addressed me within the post - saying things he couldn't tell me up front, i guess. the entry made me sad, but i think i'm just sad at the passage of time, at the dissolution of what we thought could be and now never will. he wrote so many things that i wish he'd just told me when we were dating...so much could have been avoided...alas, there is no use dwelling over that now. between his entries and his away messages he seems so despondent and depressed, and i hurt for him, and hope he finds something to make him happy soon. its weird...he is the one who hurt me...but why do i feel like i'm the one who did something wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, i'm resolved not to dwell on the past; i've got far more to look forward to than to look back upon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i saw harry potter sunday night (red you were right...cedric diggery=one awfully cute wizard) which was good, i think. well it wasn't bad. it was different. it was a lot darker, which is a big plus. death and skulls and blood and such. rock on. oh, and some weird mildly sexual humor. which makes sense, since they are all teenagers, but still. it caught me off guard! (and does anyone else think that the actor who plays harry potter is starting to look like elijah wood?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and goodness, i'm in a great mood.  any kind of rational thought, however, is right out the window.&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113258215439490301?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113258215439490301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113258215439490301' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113258215439490301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113258215439490301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/blog-post.html' title=':)'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113223398997026051</id><published>2005-11-17T05:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T05:28:34.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>shopping shopping</title><content type='html'>shopping shopping shopping!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hehe.&lt;br /&gt;this weekend: mall of america with &lt;a href="http://www.theycallmered.blogspot.com"&gt;red&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whoohoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;next week: a whole week of &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/wetwilli106/"&gt;sid&lt;/a&gt; being home!&lt;br /&gt;(haha now i LINKED your name! whatcha gonna do!?)&lt;br /&gt;whoohoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last day of a three day week!&lt;br /&gt;next week is a three day week!&lt;br /&gt;i've now found TWO possible apartments that i can actually (maybe) afford!&lt;br /&gt;MOVING OUT OF MY HOUSE IS A REALITY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its a good day.&lt;br /&gt;(feelin' kind of goofy.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113223398997026051?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113223398997026051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113223398997026051' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113223398997026051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113223398997026051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/shopping-shopping.html' title='shopping shopping'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113217721548628851</id><published>2005-11-16T13:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T13:40:15.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>weird day</title><content type='html'>so this morning, as i sat down to check my email and start my usual hour routine of clicking on things...one of the officers came to get me and said i had to go to some meeting with her.  she didn't really know what it was about and i'd never even heard that we had a meeting this morning.  so, i go to this meeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this was a city of naperville emergency planning drill, or something of that effect.  the premise is...after five days of steady rain, we have an earthquake (!) which causes a dam to break (yes we have a dam!  go figure!!) and all sorts of city personelle was sequestered in city hall until NOON responding to this damn emergency.  i was on the team that dealt with evacuating citizens.  i was also completely useless, as i didn't even KNOW we had a damn, much less what path it would take if it breaks.  (apparently it is in the mcdowell forest preserve and would, suprisingly, do quite a bit of damage.)  so that was my morning.  it was long.  and boring.  but i WAS on a team with police sergent atkins and i really wanted to ask him if i could hold his gun.  but then i thought against it, as he is a very large imposing man and i decided it sounds a bit too much like a come-on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it also dropped 30 degrees since 5 oclock yesterday.  my dad and i went to dinner last night and my car said it was 59 degrees.  coming back from lunch today my car said 26 degrees.  brr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'd also like to note for anyone who may be reading that i am SO much more shy and insecure than i let on.  so if it seems like i want to talk about something...but back off at the last minute...be patient with me...&lt;br /&gt;(end cryptic remark.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113217721548628851?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113217721548628851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113217721548628851' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113217721548628851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113217721548628851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/weird-day.html' title='weird day'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113206131899216148</id><published>2005-11-15T05:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T05:28:39.010-08:00</updated><title type='text'>back to work</title><content type='html'>back at work...nothing new and exciting. i DID have a paycheck waiting for me...whoohoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;had a wonderful suprise this morning when my fun purple pants i bought a few years ago fit. i danced around my room for a few moments. and then made myself late for work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tempted to do another happy dance for a three day week, followed by a four day week (thanksgiving) followed by ANOTHER four day week (class registration at isu on the 2nd.) ooooh i dislike this job. only a few more weeks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and most importantly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i finally feel happy, and secure...and that my life is manageable.&lt;br /&gt;i'm getting my own place, i'm going back to school, i'm moving away from naperville...on top of all that i've got far happier things on my mind that i won't go into here and now...&lt;br /&gt;i just feel happy. finally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113206131899216148?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113206131899216148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113206131899216148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113206131899216148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113206131899216148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/back-to-work_15.html' title='back to work'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113194812166983096</id><published>2005-11-13T21:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T22:02:01.700-08:00</updated><title type='text'>an unprecidented weekend post...</title><content type='html'>...because i'm bored, restless and not going to work tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;when i put my time off in the computer i accidentally put monday the 14th in as well...and never changed it back.  so, seeing as i HATE MY JOB, i'm not going in tomorrow.  'nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;made it back from texas in one piece - the woman next to me on the flight from dallas was watching a movieon one of those little portable dvd players and she had headphones plugged in - but they were plugged into the wrong place so they were completely useless and everyone else around her could hear her movie.  but she didn't know that so she kept turning the volume up.  it was amusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friday i did laundry, went to lunch with my mother and took off for a weekend on sid's couch - which was, as always, a most excellent time.  i rediscovered my spectacular bowling deficencies and love of vodka, and went to the indiana state museum with sid and assorted others for the LOTR travelling exhibit...which was very interesting, though i am not a LOTR superfan like others seem to be.  but it really was interesting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news the house is freezing and my nose is freezing as well.&lt;br /&gt;time for a shower and perhaps bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;looking forward to my trip to minneapolis this weekend and returning to everyone being home for thanksgiving! &lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113194812166983096?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113194812166983096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113194812166983096' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113194812166983096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113194812166983096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/unprecidented-weekend-post.html' title='an unprecidented weekend post...'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113156500316213245</id><published>2005-11-09T11:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T11:36:43.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i cook like a rockstar</title><content type='html'>i made crabcakes last night!  and they were GOOD! &lt;br /&gt;...and i only set something on fire once!&lt;br /&gt;(i put the fire out before M noticed.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i COOKED!&lt;br /&gt;very exciting.  maybe i will make the crabcakes for my parents.  they have been bugging me since i moved back in with them to make dinner once or twice, at which i always laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other new i've now been watching the food network for six days straight.  and i really don't like emeril.  he bugs me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm so excited about apartment hunting in normal.  hopefully i can find something for a decent price.  i'm also excited about going to ikea (the new one in bolingbrook!) and possibly finding a couch to replace my standard college issue black walmart futon.  i'm just excited about finally having a place of my own.  i'm excited about decorating.&lt;br /&gt;yes, i am a nerd.  but an EXCITED nerd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats it, still wasting away in texas.&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113156500316213245?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113156500316213245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113156500316213245' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113156500316213245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113156500316213245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-cook-like-rockstar.html' title='i cook like a rockstar'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113148673361626101</id><published>2005-11-08T13:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-08T13:52:13.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'>texas update, ya'll</title><content type='html'>texas is warm.  how warm?  i don't really know.  we've been playing nintendo and snacking for the last 5 days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay that isn't completely true, but it feels like it.  i did hit the bar scene here in college station, which is no different than any other college town.  we also got some authentic texas bbq (which was greasy but amazing.  i love pulled pork) and some not-so-authentic texmex at 'on the border'.  which has good food, but i can get it at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all in all its been uneventful and a little boring, but that isn't completely a bad thing.  just lazy.  i think we are going to try and hit the vineyard that is nearby tomorrow, and tonight we are cooking an actual dinner, not hamburger helper or chili like the last few nights.  we are going to try pasta and crabcakes...that will be exciting because neither of us really cook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i hadn't planned to stay here for a week - i enjoy spending time with M, but we made these plans a while ago when we were still dating.  unfortunately M had (ahem) different ideas on how the week would go...and that has lead to some grumpy moments on his part, but for the most part the awkward moments have been averted and everything has been fine.  its been nice to see him, but i'm definately ready to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113148673361626101?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113148673361626101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113148673361626101' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113148673361626101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113148673361626101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/texas-update-yall.html' title='texas update, ya&apos;ll'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113113294012882072</id><published>2005-11-04T11:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-04T11:35:40.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ehh!</title><content type='html'>i am in texas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am surrounded by trucks and cowboy hats and television ads urging people to ostricize homosexuals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wanna come home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(okay i like the trucks and cowboy hats.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i will be here until thursday, and if anything happens of note, i will post. otherwise, i probably won't, because apparently M gets whiny if i don't pay enough attention to him. and he wondered why our relationship didn't really work?&lt;br /&gt;okay there is more to it than that. but still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeehaw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113113294012882072?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113113294012882072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113113294012882072' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113113294012882072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113113294012882072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/ehh.html' title='ehh!'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113093837459171692</id><published>2005-11-02T05:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-02T05:32:54.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>happy dance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*happy dance happy dance happy dance happy dance happy dance*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i got into ISU!  eee! &lt;br /&gt;now.  what happens if i get into western michigan?  i may have to suck it up and education-degree myself.  going to the medieval institute would be loads of fun...but...what in god's name will i do with a masters in medieval studies?  at least with an education degree i can work legitimately and get real money...with my MAms i can...run away with the renaissance faire.  i could teach...but...i need my education degree...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so.  i continue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i got into ISU!  eee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'll be close to u of i folk!  and close enough for my parents to gradually go through me leaving home again...but just far enough away that they won't drive down every day.  (though the three hour drive to iowa city didn't deter my mom from visiting...dare i say it...a bit TOO often.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND i'll finally have my very own apartment.  i can put bright colors in the living room!  not just beige and light blue!  (take that all my previous roomates!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*happy dance*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113093837459171692?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113093837459171692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113093837459171692' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113093837459171692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113093837459171692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/happy-dance.html' title='happy dance'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113085342379486814</id><published>2005-11-01T05:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-01T05:57:03.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i feel so undercover</title><content type='html'>today i am doing survaillence.  i don't know what that entails, or if i spelled it correctly...but doesn't sound dangerous and important?  like i'm going on a stakeout!  however...i doubt it will be that action packed.  Bill (my supervisor) told me to bring a book.  okay - as if i don't do enough reading on the clock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;books i've finished in the last few weeks:&lt;br /&gt;garden of eden, hemmingway&lt;br /&gt;sex, drugs and cocoa puffs, klosterman&lt;br /&gt;childhood's end (again), clarke&lt;br /&gt;1984 (again), orwell&lt;br /&gt;haroun and the sea of stories, rushdie&lt;br /&gt;party cloudy patriot, vowell&lt;br /&gt;barrel fever, sederis&lt;br /&gt;catcher in the rye, salinger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know there are more...i'm trying to envision the section in my bookcase that was empty not too long ago and is now packed...but i can't.  suffice to say, i've read a bunch of books lately.  i'm starting in on 'the night in question' by tobias wolff.  no idea how it will be, it was a book recommended by my buddy dan.  but i trust his judgement, most of the time.  i also bought "johnathan strange and mr. norrell" - which i've heard mixed reviews about, but it looks long and engaging and i have various plane and train rides in my future. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hooray for harry potter on the 18th!  so excited!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also on the agenda for my long plane and train rides...finally knitting the hat i promised my friend michelle.  its a stocking cap with ear flaps at the sides and cat ears on the top- which is so up her alley, but i also found camoflage yarn - which will make her even happier, because she already said she wants to wear it under her flight helmet dealy.  i didn't know she could do that, but i guess if its under the helmet it isn't a big deal.  she sent me a pic of her in the cockpit of some complicated fighter plane, and after getting over the holy-shit-the-navy-lets-her-fly-things reaction, i felt pretty proud to be her friend and exroomate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm trying to figure out why i blog everyday, when clearly i have nothing (and a lot of it) to say everyday.  i think the biggest factor is boredom...if i didn't sit at this desk at 7 am monday through friday and stare at my computer, i don't think i'd be as compelled.  another is i have this crazy notion that someday i will be a writer.  what gives me this notion?  well, for as long as i can remember i have this HIGHLY annoying habit of narrating my life in my head.  sounds crazy?  probably is.  that might not be a sign that i should be a writer so much as i should be locked away for a few months.  but this blog and its nonsense helps get some of that narrate-y goodness out of my brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the week is wearing down!  thusday i leave for texas, come home next thursday, friday i go to urbana, then the following friday i go to minneapolis!  hooray for only working 4 days out of the next 19!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113085342379486814?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113085342379486814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113085342379486814' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113085342379486814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113085342379486814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-feel-so-undercover.html' title='i feel so undercover'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113076668572768055</id><published>2005-10-31T05:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-10-31T05:51:25.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>happy halloween!!!</title><content type='html'>i love posting when i actually have something to write about!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had a great weekend - i love spending time with the wisconsin crew!  happily kat decided to hit the bars and drink, and even endure the crowds on state street.  state street is the main street in downtown madison, and on saturday night it was PACKED.  i'd never been to madison on halloween, though i've always heard its the place to be...and that is very true.  it was absolutely insane in downtown madison.  they had a ton of stadium lights up so it was like daylight, and there were cops every couple feet, just standing around waiting to arrest people.  i walked past a few arrests...including someone dressed as peewee herman (which was comical in its own special way.)  it ended up being only three of us as our fourth ditched us for a group of hard core partyers (which i used to be, and with good incentive, still am...but kat is drunk off a glass of wine.  partying isn't her forte.)  - but at least i got to see her for alittle while. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sunday, however, i did nothing - played on the computer a lot and argued with M on the phone for the entire 2 hour drive back from madison to naperville.  M, let it be known, has a giant stick up his butt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats about it.  i'm a little out of it, i couldn't sleep last night - being cautiously optimistic is tough work, especially when i'm a pessimist by nature. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and WHY can't any school just make up their mind in a timely manner?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113076668572768055?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113076668572768055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113076668572768055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113076668572768055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113076668572768055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/10/happy-halloween.html' title='happy halloween!!!'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113050241697232038</id><published>2005-10-28T05:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-28T05:26:56.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dooda dit dooda...</title><content type='html'>i listen to the drive nearly all the time, but especially in the morning, because they don't talk.  i really can't stand pointless morning radio talk.  and 85% of the time i like what they play on the drive.  however, every once in awhile they stick a song in there that is a complete guilty pleasure (a song i'll usually not admit publically to knowing all the words to.)  i say usually, because now this song is in my head and it must be written (at least a lyric or two).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at night when the bars close down&lt;br /&gt;brandy walks through a silent town&lt;br /&gt;and loves a man who's not around&lt;br /&gt;she still can hear him say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; and she hears him say&lt;br /&gt;"brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)&lt;br /&gt;"what a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)&lt;br /&gt;"but my life, my love and my lady is the sea"&lt;br /&gt;(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, i know all the words to 'brandy' by 'looking glass'.&lt;br /&gt;*hangs her head in shame.*&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113050241697232038?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113050241697232038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113050241697232038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113050241697232038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113050241697232038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/10/dooda-dit-dooda.html' title='dooda dit dooda...'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113043411313638766</id><published>2005-10-27T10:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T10:32:01.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the backstroke of the west</title><content type='html'>i just had to post this.&lt;br /&gt;this is the opening scene from the lastest starwars, put into chinese, with english subtitles. currently i'm working on getting a copy of this amazingness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;"a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...."&lt;br /&gt;("long time ago in the faraway galaxy")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"star wars"&lt;br /&gt;("star war")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;episode iii&lt;br /&gt;("the third gathers")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;revenge of the sith&lt;br /&gt;("the backstroke of the west")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;war! the republic is crumbling under atacks by the ruthless sith lord, count dooku. there are heroes on both sides. evil is everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;("the war came! the republic encountered.")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in a stunning move, the fiendish droid leader, general grevious, has swept into the republic capital and kidnapped chancellor palpatine, leader of the galactic senate.&lt;br /&gt;("two squares fight the vehemence. the improbity fills the world")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as the separatist droid army attempts to flee the besieged capital with their valuable hostage, two jedi knights lead a deparate mission to rescue the captive chancellor....&lt;br /&gt;("the space general of the alliance is skillful kidnap the d the speaker the conduct. the proper abruption alliance troops tries ratio prosperous drive with the.")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*** first meeting between anakin and padme ***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;padme: "oh anakin"&lt;br /&gt;("hi, gold")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anakin: "i've missed you, padme"&lt;br /&gt;("dear, how are you")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;padme: "there were whispers you've been killed"&lt;br /&gt;("heard of you is killed")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anakin: "i'm alright. feels like we've been apart for a lifetime. it might have been if the chancellor hadn't been kidnapped they'd have never brought us back from the outer rim"&lt;br /&gt;("i did not die, is not. apparently we will separate the lifetime similar. while hearing of the speaker were kidnap, i thought of that i want to attend the salvation activity)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;padme: "wait, not here"&lt;br /&gt;("etc., here not line")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anakin: "yes, here. i'm tired of all this deception, i don't care if they know we're married"&lt;br /&gt;("i had enough of these politicseses. i think only of to get married with you")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;padme: "anakin don't say things like that"&lt;br /&gt;("do not say these")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anakin: "are you alright? you're trembling. what's going on?"&lt;br /&gt;("are you o.k. you is shivering. how")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;padme: "something wonderful has happened. annie, i'm pregnant"&lt;br /&gt;("waiting for the happy event condescends to come. dear, i was pregnant")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anakin: "that's... that's wonderful"&lt;br /&gt;("this... this is really too stick")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;padme: "what are we gonna do?"&lt;br /&gt;("we should how do")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anakin: "we're not going to worry about anything right now, alright? this is a happy moment, the happiest moment of my life"&lt;br /&gt;("i no longer worried the other thing now. good. this is a happy time, the most happy time of inside of whole life")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*** two scenes later, in padme's penthouse ***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;padme: "annie, i want to have our baby back home on naboo. we could go to the lake country where no one would know . . . where we would be safe. i could go early-and fix up the baby's room. i know the perfect spot, right by the gardens."&lt;br /&gt;("i living the child's time you must at home. make the home a little bit more safe. i can breakfast for the new house that baby tidy up it. it has a great father. a great hopeless situation warrior")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anakin: "you are so beautiful!"&lt;br /&gt;("the beauty that you are like this")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;padme: "it's only because i'm so in love . . . "&lt;br /&gt;("i let me become the beauty to your love")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anakin: "no, it's because i'm so in love with you."&lt;br /&gt;("not, i love you love deeper")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;padme: "so love has blinded you?"&lt;br /&gt;("your meaning is a love to tie up you")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anakin: "that's not exactly what i meant"&lt;br /&gt;("that is not my meaning")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;padme: "that's probably true"&lt;br /&gt;("at least i say to half")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;perhaps my favorite line from the whole thing...anakin's response to finding out padme is pregnant. &lt;br /&gt;"this...this is really too stick."&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113043411313638766?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113043411313638766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113043411313638766' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113043411313638766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113043411313638766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/10/backstroke-of-west.html' title='the backstroke of the west'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113041642418709588</id><published>2005-10-27T05:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T05:33:44.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hmm.</title><content type='html'>i have nothing to complain about today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, actually, nothing to complain about right now.  &lt;br /&gt;but the day is still young.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its gonna be a long two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113041642418709588?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113041642418709588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113041642418709588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113041642418709588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113041642418709588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/10/hmm.html' title='hmm.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113035780572030485</id><published>2005-10-26T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T13:16:45.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>grrrr.</title><content type='html'>i've got feelings for someone who &lt;br /&gt;1. doesn't care&lt;br /&gt;2. doesn't take REALLY OBVIOUS hints well&lt;br /&gt;3. gets it and is too nice to say he isn't interested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyone wanna take a guess at which one it is?&lt;br /&gt;cause i'm stumped.&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113035780572030485?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113035780572030485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113035780572030485' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113035780572030485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113035780572030485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/10/grrrr.html' title='grrrr.'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113034875067814942</id><published>2005-10-26T10:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T10:53:06.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>these quizzes are oddly intuitive...</title><content type='html'>...and addicting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your Blog Should Be P&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;urple&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#cccccc"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="100" src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatcolorshouldyourblogorjournalbequiz/purple.gif" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're an expressive, offbeat blogger who tends to write about anything and everything.&lt;br /&gt;You tend to set blogging trends, and you're the most likely to write your own meme or survey.&lt;br /&gt;You are a bit distant though. Your blog is all about you - not what anyone else has to say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatcolorshouldyourblogorjournalbequiz/"&gt;What Color Should Your Blog or Journal Be?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"  style="color:#f0fff0;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are 22 Years Old&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#f8fff8"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="100" src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatagequiz/cake.jpg" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe.&lt;br /&gt;13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world.&lt;br /&gt;20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences.&lt;br /&gt;30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more!&lt;br /&gt;40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatagequiz/"&gt;What Age Do You Act?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"  style="color:#b9d3ee;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;How You Life Your Life&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#c6e2ff"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="100" src="http://images.blogthings.com/howdoyouliveyourlifequiz/faces.jpg" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You seem to be straight forward, but you keep a lot inside.&lt;br /&gt;You're laid back and chill, but sometimes you care too much about what others think.&lt;br /&gt;You tend to have one best friend you hang with, as opposed to many aquaintences.&lt;br /&gt;Some of your past dreams have disappointed you, but you don't let it get you down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/howdoyouliveyourlifequiz/"&gt;How Do You Live Your Life?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113034875067814942?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113034875067814942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113034875067814942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113034875067814942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113034875067814942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/10/these-quizzes-are-oddly-intuitive.html' title='these quizzes are oddly intuitive...'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113033048799679263</id><published>2005-10-26T05:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T05:44:02.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>apprehensive...</title><content type='html'>...is my mood for today. i can't shake the feeling that something big and/or important is going to happen, and that isn't necessarily a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm also feeling a little nervous about visiting M next week - i think the last of my feelings for him have worn down, and now i can't help but feel that instead of visiting a friend i'm visiting my ex boyfriend. i'm sure things will go great because i always have an awesome time when i'm with him, still i can't help but let my thoughts run away from me. the same thing happened last time i saw him though - i was so worried that things would be awkward, but everything was fine and we both had a really great time in eachother's company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought a lot about friendship last night. thinking about how i only have a very very small group of people who i've aquired over the years that i can really call &lt;em&gt;friends&lt;/em&gt;. i have lots and lots of casual buddies - people i'll call up if i'm in that town, or go drinking with, or chat with very occasionally - but i only have one or two friends to represent each significant segment of my life. (south haven, green bay, naperville, iowa city - or - elementary school, jr high, high school and college, as it works out.) i'm not sure if this can be attributed to the fact that i am really picky when it comes to my friends (i'm 99% sure i hold my friends to higher standards than i hold my boyfriends) or if i'm just a bad friend and i drive people away before they can get close. i'd like to think its because i'm picky, but that might be just as bad. C used to scold me for that - being too picky when it comes to my friends. i'd come home and complain about what someone said or the way someone acted and he'd tell me my standards are too high. and how is it that my closest (okay, only) group of girlfriends are the girls i hung out with for two years in green bay? two years and i found an actual GROUP of friends, that i've managed to hold on to in the years since, but in 41/2 years of college all i seemed to find were drinking buddies who forgot me once i left, or once they moved on. maybe i was too busy being C's girlfriend to make new friends. not to sound like i'm blaming him. that one is entirely my fault. high school, though - it seems to me i had a big group of people i considered friends - but i either alienated them, dated them or they only hung around because they wanted to date me (that last one was told to me in exactly those words my freshman year of college by someone i'd actually enjoyed spending time with at one point. not any more.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at the beginning of the fall i went into downtown chicago with K, KJ and SM, and somewhere through the day realized that, minus a person or two, that little group of three people very nearly represents the only people i really consider friends in the world. it was oddly comforting and disarming at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is this normal? to realize, when it comes down to it, that there are only a handful of people outside your family who you can really depend on? i got an oddly relevent fortune on saturday when i was with SM - 'old friends are best friends' - which i thought was eerily appropriate, given the company, but if we are to rely on old friends, how do we make new ones?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm done. too much thinking for this time of the morning.&lt;br /&gt;~DsA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113033048799679263?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113033048799679263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113033048799679263' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113033048799679263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113033048799679263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/10/apprehensive.html' title='apprehensive...'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13450472.post-113024535063826252</id><published>2005-10-25T05:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-25T06:02:30.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>oh and the song that is stuck in my head</title><content type='html'>...which might account for the nervousness.  this song won't go away.  it's making it hard to think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;you give your hand to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;and then you say hello&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;and i can hardly speak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;my heart is beating so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;and anyone can tell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;you think you know me well&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;but you don't know me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;no you will never know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;who dreams of you at night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;and longs to kiss your lips &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;and longs to hold you tight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;no, i'm just a friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;that's all i've ever been&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;because you don't know me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i never knew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the art of making love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;though my heart aches&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;with love for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;afraid and shy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i watched my chance go by&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the chance that you might&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;love me too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;you give your hand to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;and then you say goodbye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;and then you walk away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;with some lucky guy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;no, you will never know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;the one who loves you so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;well, you don't know me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13450472-113024535063826252?l=dixieanne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/feeds/113024535063826252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13450472&amp;postID=113024535063826252' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113024535063826252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13450472/posts/default/113024535063826252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dixieanne.blogspot.com/2005/10/oh-and-song-that-is-stuck-in-my-head.html' title='oh and the song that is stuck in my head'/><author><name>dixie st anne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09635375269951603763</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/215/6221/400/virgo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
