<?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-2613046872372555001</id><updated>2011-07-08T15:37:55.812+12:00</updated><title type='text'>~ I've Been ...~</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-4769653681974821184</id><published>2011-06-28T09:03:00.003+12:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T10:01:30.260+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning ...</title><content type='html'>Paramedic School is hard.&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully it is also rewarding, challenging, enjoyable and as cheesy as it sounds feels like my true calling...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first few weeks kicked my butt, full time study had me seriously wiped out.  It was all I could do to drag myself home and eat before I fell asleep.  I felt a little separated from the rest of the group as I was granted RPL for the first year so joined a group that knew each other and had worked together already but they are great bunch some interesting characters for sure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assignments were long hard and often, exams and quizzes constant but I did it - I have papered the fridge with A's and I am VERY proud of myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am saturating myself in all things medical, I spent a period with a fixed wing ambulance crew, which was an awesome experience and fingers crossed may even lead to a casual position with them.  I put in my first and second IV's (thanks Mum!), have read miles of ECG's and putting differential diagnoses to the test at every opportunity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tired, happy wee minimed - loving learning, stretching my mind and doing the best I can do!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-4769653681974821184?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/4769653681974821184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2011/06/learning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/4769653681974821184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/4769653681974821184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2011/06/learning.html' title='Learning ...'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-590592749113529546</id><published>2011-06-28T08:43:00.002+12:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T09:02:23.027+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Relocated...</title><content type='html'>Well the move happened - I made a quick decision and pretty much resigned, packed and disappeared in about two seconds flat.  Its like pulling off a band-aid - better if you do it fast before you think about it too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm habituating in the north now, living with Mum after 10 years apart - and surprisingly that has been the simplest part of the move!  I'm one semester down of four at Paramedic School and &lt;S/&gt;enjoying&lt;/s&gt; LOVING it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've caught back up with some really good friends that geographically I haven't been part of their lives in the last decade.  It's good - I love being able to help out with their sprogs, play, drink copious coffee's and generally enjoy the ability to pop on over! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss the deep south, the friends, the long stretch of coastline I used to look out over, the restaurant, the bar, the station.  Especially hard was missing the engagement of my favourite couple EVER; well, not the engagement but the few days after of champagne and happiness - it's just not the same over the phone. Still good, still giddy, but, I want to hug them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family needs me, the cousin not only has two incredibly cute children that I love, but Parkinsons, a debilitating disease that is stealing his strength, his balance, his freedom and ability to work, but not his love, joy in his children, and the strength of character that I know will get him through the darkest days.  But as an aside - Parkinsons - it's not just about shaking, and it's not just for old people - its a BITCH! I can't cure him as much as I'd love that magical power but I can mind the kids as much as is needed, they are a pleasure and treasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As well as being a parapup and learning the tools to save lives, this little mini-med has been really enjoying her photography.  I've taken it to the next level with a course or two and a few thousand more photos added to my collection, an (unpaid) job, and potentials in the pipeline...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-590592749113529546?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/590592749113529546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2011/06/relocated.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/590592749113529546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/590592749113529546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2011/06/relocated.html' title='Relocated...'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-5326453609118775228</id><published>2010-04-29T08:41:00.005+12:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T11:35:53.519+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Loved...</title><content type='html'>Thinking about embarking on a relationship (if only it was that easy), and purging and exorcising the imaginary lovers from my mind got me thinking about the past relationships I've had...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'The First', N, Also known as 'The One I Wish I Hadn't Fucked Up'&lt;br /&gt;Ohhh N, My first grown up love. He was slightly older than me and yet we worked. From the moment we first went from friends to more, it was like the planets had realigned so that we could be the centre of each others universe. He was (is) handsome, caring and loving. Unfortunately my over reactive 'girl brain' kicked in as my insecurities misled me and I broke up with him. We were shocked, we were sad, we still fooled around abit afterwards. He still walks into my Mum house lays on the couch like he lives there, calls Mum - well Mum, makes my blood boil when I see him, and can hug like noone I've met since... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Schizo Ex', We went out for quite a while, practically lived together, hung out with respective families. Had pet names, had great sex, had a great time together. Until the crazies came over him and in 8 hours we were apart one day he decided it was over. Ended with a phone call, "don't ever call me again". OK of course I redialled, then visited, was met by the blackest scariest eyes and all the hostility in the world. Had a cuppa with his grandma and walked out, confused, upset and beyond sad. I got an apology and wish I hadn't treated you like that I still love you two years later.... yeah two years too little to late buddy. (Meanwhile, Grandma, Sister and I are still good friends and we laugh at the fool regularly).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'The Ex', No fancy title needed. We were together for long enough that people kept looking at my finger expecting a flash of diamond. Sadly, we were meant to be, we went the full circle from friends, to GF/BF, to 'partners' and back to friends. Its a happy place to be now. Don't get me wrong there were plenty of tears shed, plenty of snide remarks and plenty of 'have we done the right thing?'... In a word, Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm figuring, since it is possible to love and be loved, it will happen again. One day. Hopefully. Before I am old and grey and surrounded by cats.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-5326453609118775228?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/5326453609118775228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/04/loved.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/5326453609118775228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/5326453609118775228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/04/loved.html' title='Loved...'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-340423275555069946</id><published>2010-04-28T00:20:00.002+12:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T00:42:17.792+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Unavailable...</title><content type='html'>I think mentally I am reserved. For what/who I don't know. Maybe one of these days a boy will come along and make me laugh, want to hang out, not cringe when I burp, and be happy to fit into my manically busy existence. (Yes I call them boys - men are scary)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, I am not dating. Its not that dating scares me per say, but, I'm not sure I know how to do it. How to get back into that circle? I work in a bar (or two) so get drunken offers every now and then and whilst they work wonders on my self esteem, they are not offering a date - generally I think they just want to get smutty - which don't get me wrong is not an inherently bad thing it just isn't where I am at. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The few people I have glanced twice at recently have been for all intents and purposes not ideal. Although they seem to get a wee slice of my imagination for a while, at the end of the day I know they are not Mr Right, or even Mr Rightfornow. In most cases the biggest problem has been geography - they all either live or work a million miles away and have only stepped onto my corner of the earth for a holiday, break or visit. They walk into my life, make my heart beat slightly faster for a few seconds, then leave again. This leaves me unattainable for a while as I get caught in a day dream of what could have been... I snap back out of it eventually, I'm not still pining for them (often) but then the cycle seems to repeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is my subconscious not letting me move forward, am I drawn to boys that aren't/can't be relationship material? &lt;br /&gt;If so... Bite me subconscious I want a someone! If it is why? I am over the ex, happily friends with him but not going backwards in life. I am secure and happy in myself I think... so bring it on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of the problem could be the fact that I don't 'do' one night stands therefore almost everyone I meet in a bar/on a night out, I discount because I believe that 99.76% of them are just after a root... am I wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong I am not a biological time bomb ready to explode into marriage and babies, I'm in no rush.  I just think I've been single long enough now and sitting in front of the fire in my new place would be so much nicer with someone to steal the heat from...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-340423275555069946?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/340423275555069946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/04/unavailable.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/340423275555069946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/340423275555069946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/04/unavailable.html' title='Unavailable...'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-5706491765635369527</id><published>2010-04-28T00:18:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T00:20:27.315+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgotten ...</title><content type='html'>Standing alone atop a mountain&lt;br /&gt;Shadowed by the crosses,&lt;br /&gt;The crosses of a thousand men&lt;br /&gt;Who fought so fiercely&lt;br /&gt;...and died.&lt;br /&gt;They died for our freedom&lt;br /&gt;and yet we are not proud&lt;br /&gt;We take it for granted&lt;br /&gt;Our freedom&lt;br /&gt;We do not care&lt;br /&gt;We are cruel.&lt;br /&gt;Why one day to remember,&lt;br /&gt;And the rest of the year to forget&lt;br /&gt;ANZAC not remembered&lt;br /&gt;As we said we would&lt;br /&gt;But our fathers forgotten&lt;br /&gt;Their names not heard&lt;br /&gt;We still feel the wind,&lt;br /&gt;The sun on our backs&lt;br /&gt;But the red blood no longer flows&lt;br /&gt;Lying dormant&lt;br /&gt;Under earth&lt;br /&gt;Our blood is nothing&lt;br /&gt;What did we do?&lt;br /&gt;A single poppy once a year&lt;br /&gt;When compared to them,&lt;br /&gt;Pitiful&lt;br /&gt;Poor &lt;br /&gt;... Weak&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-5706491765635369527?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/5706491765635369527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/04/forgotten.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/5706491765635369527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/5706491765635369527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/04/forgotten.html' title='Forgotten ...'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-7241181565822436647</id><published>2010-04-11T16:49:00.002+12:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T18:11:05.216+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Teasing...</title><content type='html'>You can look but can't touch&lt;br /&gt;See but not taste&lt;br /&gt;Anticipation is building, but &lt;br /&gt;Without rewards it's a waste.&lt;br /&gt;Feather light touches&lt;br /&gt;Ignite your skin like a flame&lt;br /&gt;Biting hard on your lip&lt;br /&gt;As you growl out my name.&lt;br /&gt;Tempting and teasing you &lt;br /&gt;Driving you mad with desire&lt;br /&gt;Your pupils are dilated and &lt;br /&gt;Your nerves are on fire.&lt;br /&gt;Begging and fighting &lt;br /&gt;Trying to get to those lips&lt;br /&gt;Biting and scratching&lt;br /&gt;Kisses with little nips.&lt;br /&gt;You hold your breath waiting&lt;br /&gt;For our torture to end&lt;br /&gt;I can't hold on for ever &lt;br /&gt;And on that you depend.&lt;br /&gt;Teasing and tempting&lt;br /&gt;Playful and sweet to start,&lt;br /&gt;More fun with the reward&lt;br /&gt;You can't wait for that part...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-7241181565822436647?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/7241181565822436647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/04/teasing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/7241181565822436647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/7241181565822436647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/04/teasing.html' title='Teasing...'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-7872317478738439239</id><published>2010-04-11T16:38:00.002+12:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T16:49:15.063+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Mountain Climbing...</title><content type='html'>Not in the literal hiking boots, alpine air and dehydrated snacks kind of way, it's been more figurative.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have moved out of my house with a few twinges of the heart strings for my old villa (not nearly as grand as it sounds), been temporarily nomadic, flat hunted, had my references checked and been approved by the new landlords to make my habitat in their rental.  I have a mountain of boxes deposited inside the door, and it is going to take some mental (and physical strength) to unpack, organise and get sorted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I have climbed a career mountain and am (mostly) on a path that will mean I'm finally a paramedic before I'm covered in wrinkles and my back has gone out from the strain of lifting patients.  Unfortunately, that is going to mean another move before the end of the year - I'm seriously tempted to live out of the boxes until then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the top ... I'll see you on the other side&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-7872317478738439239?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/7872317478738439239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/04/mountain-climbing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/7872317478738439239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/7872317478738439239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/04/mountain-climbing.html' title='Mountain Climbing...'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-5989302284667804272</id><published>2010-03-21T23:05:00.002+13:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T23:41:46.698+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Twenty Six. . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/S6X3sU2zuQI/AAAAAAAAADs/r_Nne20jfRU/s1600-h/IMG_0910.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451035264886749442" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/S6X3sU2zuQI/AAAAAAAAADs/r_Nne20jfRU/s320/IMG_0910.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1: I HATE feet - mine and yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2: I love easily - and am hurt easily as a result.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3: My boobs are heaps bigger than they look in clothes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4: I can't think of anything I am scared of - except for failing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5: I cut the end of my finger off years ago ... it's name is Stumpy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;6: I think the reason children love me is that they know I'm just a big kid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;7: Loyalty is one of my strongest traits.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;8: I have owned 3 cars - Burt, Oscar and Charlie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;9: I read almost every night - even if the words are blurred from alcoholic effects.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;10: My mother has recieved a fathers day card from me every year since I was three. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;11: I love Africa - although I haven't been yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;12: I have visited a number of prisons around the country.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;13: Beetroot, Pickled Onions, Pork, Bacon and Oysters are some of my favourite foods.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;14: If I could do anything in my life once again it would be talking to my Grandpa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;15: I have skydived more than once.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;16: I have only had one panic attack ever - it was enough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;17: I love the sight of blood. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;18: I can't wait to be a mother but I can wait before I have children.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;19: I often regret not standing up for myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;20: I don't have a sweet tooth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;21: Once you are in my heart, its almost impossible for me to let you go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;22: I do it alone, but tell others not too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;23: I'm a shit magnet. Also, I attract nutbars.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;24: I have eaten, worms, bugs, and testicles.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;25: My collection of poems is like reading a tortured soul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;26: I cry at movies, books, ads and when others cry but try to stop crying when I am sad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;~So long 26... you've been great, but I'm looking forward to 27 and all it is going to throw at me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Liking, loving, laughing, longing, lazing, learning. . .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-5989302284667804272?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/5989302284667804272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/03/twenty-six.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/5989302284667804272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/5989302284667804272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/03/twenty-six.html' title='Twenty Six. . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/S6X3sU2zuQI/AAAAAAAAADs/r_Nne20jfRU/s72-c/IMG_0910.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-492931963246651032</id><published>2010-02-21T22:52:00.004+13:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T23:14:39.292+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Staunch . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/S4EG_gnmThI/AAAAAAAAADk/gg02vaDPU6g/s1600-h/blog-bar-fight.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440637512997817874" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/S4EG_gnmThI/AAAAAAAAADk/gg02vaDPU6g/s320/blog-bar-fight.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well as staunch as you can be when you are five foot f-all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;You see I was in a real life bar fight, well, not a bar fight where there were bar stools flying around the room, and I didn't shank anyone with the pool cue I snapped across my knee. but, it was scary and loud and I was staunch. Noooo, there was no hair pulling, scratching or pinching. It wasn't even with another girl. It was with a rather scary gang member - I knows...tough much?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So how does a slightly tall midget blonde get into a bar fight with a big tough nasty piece of arrgh? She asks him to say please. Ohtheprovocation. Yep. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"tinytim" (not tiny - see those inverted commas?) boofs down his empty bottle, says 'beer'. Cheeky bargirl (a wee bit cheeky no commas) 'please?'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"tinytim" unleashes rant/tirade/verbal diahorreah/word vom/curses/bitches/moans...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Goes on for obscene amount of time, I tried to placeate, I even cried a little (stupid emotional reaction), then I got MAD!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyshortgrumpy pants... Best line:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"tinytim" - 'there is the blahblah gang local head, and then there is me'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;moi - 'well your still someones bitch then huh?!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;**Small disclaimer - I was shaking in my boots - this is not the normal crowd I see, serve or choose to converse with. This guy was S.cary. However, even though I got lippy, I have no black eyes and my house is not ashes = Dream Result from potentially Nasty Encounter**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-492931963246651032?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/492931963246651032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/02/staunch.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/492931963246651032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/492931963246651032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/02/staunch.html' title='Staunch . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/S4EG_gnmThI/AAAAAAAAADk/gg02vaDPU6g/s72-c/blog-bar-fight.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-2086908373710153384</id><published>2010-02-16T00:12:00.005+13:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T00:48:01.656+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Numerical. . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/S3k0K4UlQfI/AAAAAAAAADc/vZq_iiH_16E/s1600-h/numbers.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438435386548634098" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/S3k0K4UlQfI/AAAAAAAAADc/vZq_iiH_16E/s320/numbers.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;18...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the head honcho away for two weeks I will be working (at 3 jobs) 18 days straight... yes eighteen, osamnaest, atten, diciotto, dix-huit - in any language it makes me want to curl up under my duvet, plug in my iPod, cryalittle, drink myself silly and run farfar away. 18 days - really isn't that illegal? It should be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realised today that my Grandpa died 14 years ago this March, I was only 13 when he passed. I will have spent more of my life without him 'in it' than with. On that note for the last 13 years I have still written his birthday and his anniversary into my diary. Not that I'd forget either ever... I'd like to think that he and I will always be tied, we were so close, that spiritually we are eternally linked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is 9 years since I lived in my hometown, does that make this my new home town? I think generally the winters are too cold to say I'd stay here. But if the folks in charge of the white truck with flashing lights want to pay me to stay I'll most likely do it... they could pay me to go almost anywhere. Volunteering may be good for the soul but not for the bank balance. On that tangent - is a volunteer job a job or a hobby?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eleventy Million...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's how many valentines I had to wade through to get out my front door on Sunday... flowers, cards, teddy bears, wine, poems, prospective future husbands offering services - all there. Well apart from the flowers, cards, teddy bears, wine, poems, prospective future husbands...unless they were invisible. Got a couple of sweet messages from friends though! Friend love is just as spesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three months until Nice! Cannot wait - Nice... yep the French Riviera, ahhhh bliss, my Canon and I will be there. Jealous much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;124...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haemoglobin at 124 - highest its been in the almost 7 months since my blood transfusion - ohhh yeah - making blood cells like a professional I tell you. Normal range for the 1st time and no red flags from the lab! I knew all that red meat eating, spinach chewing and parsley picking was key.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-2086908373710153384?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/2086908373710153384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/02/numerical.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/2086908373710153384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/2086908373710153384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/02/numerical.html' title='Numerical. . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/S3k0K4UlQfI/AAAAAAAAADc/vZq_iiH_16E/s72-c/numbers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-3031516237431547395</id><published>2010-02-10T21:32:00.003+13:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T22:26:10.781+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Like a loved up 15 year old...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/S3J7jfP_UyI/AAAAAAAAADU/__r3wFmkQfs/s1600-h/IMG_0492.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/S3J7jfP_UyI/AAAAAAAAADU/__r3wFmkQfs/s320/IMG_0492.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436543549803811618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my lord &lt;s/&gt;Santa&lt;/s&gt; Mamakat came (way back then) and got me a Canon 500D - I am so in love with this camera.... it may be unhealthy how close we've gotten, we are like a 15 year old loved up couple I can't keep my hands off it...sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still not a 'photographer' per say but I'm shooting for the stars - and everything and everyone else.  I figure the more I take, and play with settings, lenses and post production editing the better I'll be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click, click, click.....sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-3031516237431547395?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/3031516237431547395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/02/like-loved-up-15-year-old.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/3031516237431547395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/3031516237431547395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2010/02/like-loved-up-15-year-old.html' title='Like a loved up 15 year old...'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/S3J7jfP_UyI/AAAAAAAAADU/__r3wFmkQfs/s72-c/IMG_0492.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-8145264851977689425</id><published>2009-09-28T00:20:00.004+13:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T12:15:50.944+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Rocking . . .</title><content type='html'>There is a CD continuously playing in my car, and probably two songs (although I love the whole album) that I can't get enough of on repeat.  They are slow songs not usually my driving music but they have touched me (not in that way you grubby folk).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.tahunabreaks.com/"&gt;Tahuna Breaks &lt;/a&gt;are an 8 piece band who I first saw live last New Years, since them I have not gone more than a day or two without listening to them.  They just released their second album and its just as brilliant as their first. Next weekend I'm going to be front row rocking out with them, and their energetic mix of funk, soul, rock n roll and reggae.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two songs that are my soundtrack at the moment are Sophie's Lullaby and Somebody's Daughter.  I think they resonate because the lyrics are so beautiful and poetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also saw them live last month - love loved the show - they sure know how to rock the party!  Had a smile a mile wide all night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-8145264851977689425?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/8145264851977689425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/09/rocking.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/8145264851977689425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/8145264851977689425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/09/rocking.html' title='Rocking . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-4948744983025031902</id><published>2009-09-27T23:40:00.007+13:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T00:13:18.922+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Snapping . . .</title><content type='html'>I've always been a photo-taker (not a photographer that implies something more professional and artistic than I'll ever claim to be). I love capturing a moment in time and having it to reflect on later. I have many photo albums and I would definitely save them if my house caught on fire (also the cat and my childhood teddy). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Sr9H7GkIhWI/AAAAAAAAACg/iUUUoRk-T2k/s1600-h/SUNRISE2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 118px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Sr9H7GkIhWI/AAAAAAAAACg/iUUUoRk-T2k/s400/SUNRISE2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386102760058422626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend recently picked up one album and I realised I hadn't printed any photos since 2007. I blame technology, the fact that my facebook profile houses hundreds of shots and that I have treated my laptop like a portable album - and yes technology makes it easy to share and show but its just not the same as having 'real' pictures printed, captioned and flicked through. Before my first digital camera, I knew the staff at my local printing lab by name, I probably had shares in the shop, and I definitely spent too much money there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Sr9HNVrRsTI/AAAAAAAAACQ/sMgPadq_Wbw/s1600-h/IMG_4498.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Sr9HNVrRsTI/AAAAAAAAACQ/sMgPadq_Wbw/s400/IMG_4498.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386101973840933170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in the last week, I have relived births, weddings, nights out, days in the sun and times with my family. I have laughed, shed tears and cringed, I have selected, chosen, sorted and printed 596 photos. I am almost up to date however since my printing mission I have taken more... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Sr9IZpvovYI/AAAAAAAAACo/66QJ9dDOu1U/s1600-h/IMG_7139.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Sr9IZpvovYI/AAAAAAAAACo/66QJ9dDOu1U/s400/IMG_7139.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386103284897987970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My photos pay homage to my loved ones, friendships, good times and beautiful places, and now no matter the fate of my computer, they are real, not digital, a tangible memory to treasure for always.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-4948744983025031902?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/4948744983025031902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/09/happy-snapping.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/4948744983025031902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/4948744983025031902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/09/happy-snapping.html' title='Happy Snapping . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Sr9H7GkIhWI/AAAAAAAAACg/iUUUoRk-T2k/s72-c/SUNRISE2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-1814589045012704912</id><published>2009-09-27T23:30:00.003+13:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T00:14:27.315+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Lessons In Life . . .</title><content type='html'>More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The letters T and G are very close to each other on a keyboard. This recently became all too apparent to me and consequently I will never finish a work email with the phrase "Regards" again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it just me, or are 80% of the people in the "people you may know" feature on facebook people that I do know, but I deliberately choose not to be friends with? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you remember when you were a kid; playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in the world did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or faq's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a great need for a sarcasm font. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what was going on when I first saw it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only time I look forward to a red light is when I'm trying to finish a text. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lol has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would happen if I hired two private investigators to follow each other? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad decisions make good stories. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything productive for the rest of the day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't watching this.It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Dammit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my itunes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimated that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fat b@stard before dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey - but I'd bet my ass everyone can find and push the Snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time every time... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if cops ever get p1ssed off at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the freezer deserves a light as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-1814589045012704912?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/1814589045012704912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/09/lessons-in-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/1814589045012704912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/1814589045012704912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/09/lessons-in-life.html' title='Lessons In Life . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-596552792934913462</id><published>2009-08-23T20:43:00.003+12:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T21:22:18.335+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Screaming . . .</title><content type='html'>Can you hear me?&lt;br /&gt;Its been one of those weeks. You know the ones, where you want to crawl into a warm safe place put a pillow over your head, turn off all phones, in fact all technological devices, insert an IV of any mind numbing fluid and ignore reality until its over. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that there are millions around that will have had a worse week but this is my blog and dammit I feel like hosting a pity party. . . I do apologise though, feel free to leave and come back when I have lost this shitty outlook on life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. . . (Ranting commences). A fellow manager at the bar/restaurant where I &lt;s&gt;work&lt;/s&gt; pour my sweat, blood and tears into has had his employment contract terminated due to "serious misconduct" . . . read he is a lying, slimy, lowlife who has been caught with his hands in the till. Prick. I know hate is a useless emotion that is more effort than its worth, but I'm there, I HATE him, in fact I'm seriously considering organising a public stoning. It isn't 'my' business, I have no invested interest in the place, BUT, I have been there since before we opened, I am loyal (possibly too much) to the place, I care about GP's, wage costs, my fellow staff, the owners and the business itself. This thieving low-life has been employed since early in the year, and we think has probably been 'supplementing' his pay since about then. We caught him red handed, after many phone calls, late night meetings, clandestine security measures, and sleepless nights and yet the little chocknob still is not admitting the full extent of his dishonesty. . . even since we have learnt that he has huge debts and a gambling problem. Boofarkenhooo, I have huge debts, and I don't gamble or steal to deal with them. . . I drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anybottleofwine work has been stressful, I had to work for a couple of days with the fallengoldenboy and pretend I didn't want to punch him in the face. The management and staff are all feeling very abused, sad, angry and some of us a little violent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the middle of all this I learnt that one of the guys from The Ex's rugby team passed away suddenly.  Homer was the absolute salt of the earth, a true friend, loving father and husband.  His funeral was testament to how he touched so many lives, and brought many different groups of people together.  There was standing room only, tears flowing freely and many touching tribute, including one from his incredibly brave 9 year old daughter which almost brought me to my knees.  I didn't know Homer that well, only really from the sidelines of the rugby field and the clubroom's afterwards, but I liked what I knew.  I expected to feel sad and cry at the funeral (I am a rent-a-tear) but I expected to also be mainly sad for everyone else that has died in my life, his family and friends, but only in an abstracted, not a close friend way.  Instead I realised I will miss him, even on the periphery of my life, Homer, had impacted in a way I hadn't comprehended.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some people that come into our lives, leave footprints on our hearts and we are never the same again. Rest In Peace Homer, may you have a rod or rifle in one hand a beer in the other and be standing with loved ones on the big rugby field in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all in all this week has sucked.  I want to delete it off my hard drive of life and pretend it never happened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the upside The Ex (hi!) and I confused his former rugby team and friends by going to the funeral and after match function together, generally supporting each other and getting on really well!  It is almost incomprehensible to most how well we get along - although before you think it not in a getting back together way or going back for ex sex way!!. . . if I wasn't living it I wouldn't believe it myself, I've said it before - I'm blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-596552792934913462?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/596552792934913462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/08/screaming.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/596552792934913462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/596552792934913462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/08/screaming.html' title='Screaming . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-8493719748832732585</id><published>2009-08-08T11:28:00.007+12:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T21:51:44.788+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembering . . .</title><content type='html'>OMB 1912-2007 . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As another year rolls around marking my Grandma's death, I am filled with memories, some happy, some sad, all that make me realise how much I miss her. She was the absolute matriarch of our family, stoic, full of 'airs and graces' yet she could (and would) swear like a trooper, and is to this day the only person I know who can say f**k sounding like the queen mother. This post is a tribute to her, although I'm sure she is much more interested in the bottomless G&amp;amp;T she got at the pearly gates than looking at heavenly Internets . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember sitting (wriggling like a wrigglything) on Grandma's knee while she got her hair washed and 'set' on Friday mornings at 9am, insisting that she read me the book "things that go bump in the night".... every Friday I stayed in the holidays from age about 3 onwards. In fact I was about 16 when the book finally had been removed from the toy box... I wish she'd read it to me now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember doing yoga with her in the mornings, her in her girdle me in my pj's, and looking back she was remarkably limber for an 'older lady'. I especially loved the move where we held our knees and 'rocked on our spines' kind of like a cast sheep or turtle gone belly up... I wish I could tell her how impressed I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember Grandma, striding into the pool every morning at the crack of dawn (sometimes almost cracking ice on the surface) to do her 24 lengths... always in her bathing cap (sometimes only in her bathing cap)... sometimes with stray frogs along side her as well. I swam in the mornings with her but only until I was about 5 and then the morning cartoons were a stronger attraction... I wish I could swim more lengths next to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember fighting with Grandma, big nasty horrible full blown rows. She and I were so alike in so many ways that we butted heads relatively *cough* often. I have stormed off in tears more times than I should of. She really knew how to push my buttons as well, and would do so at any opportunity (with a sly wink to whoever else was there), causing me to clam up, chew my lip, and try not to cry...I wish she would wind me up and drive me crazy one more time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember Grandma full off opposites and contradictions. She was tough as nails and had the stiffest upper lip ever and yet loved to hug us, especially towards the end. Grandma spoke the queens English... with liberal dashings of profanities that could have made a mob member blush. She looked like a Grandma, white/grey hair, and a lived in skin, and yet shopped with style and class both for herself and for the family, she wouldn't be seen in pants especially in her later years (my entire lifetime) and looked glamorous even doing the gardening. Grandma clutched the steering wheel of her jeep/car as if she was terrified it was going to take off on her... yet she drove in the middle of the road at top speed with no regard for other motorists (after all she'd been on the road since before they were born)... I want to hear her hurl abuse at someone again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember Grandma's infectious laugh and wonderful (sometimes dirty) sense of humor. When Grandma got the giggles - which she did frequently - it was contagious, everyone laughed with her. Her laughing fits exasperated my Grandfather, especially when she'd laugh so much she'd wet herself, which then just made her laugh more, never showing a hint of embarrassment... I want to laugh with her again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember Grandma's crelbow. It was the best most comforting crelbow ever, giving my infant self much comfort... I want to roll her crelbow skin again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember my last weekend with Grandma, our last snuggle lying in her bed with her, our last conversations, I remember seeing my Grandma look frail and small, I remember her clutching my hand, I remember her listening to her transistor radio in the middle of the night, I remember never wanting to say goodbye, struggling to say I love you in person for the last time, I remember my photo propped up on her bedside lamp so I could watch over her when I left, I remember that walk down the hall being the longest and most painful walk, I remember she loved me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of all I want to keep remembering her, understanding her strengths, her weaknesses, the things that brought her joy. I want her strength to be part of me. I want her to know, even though I was a Grandpa's little girl through and through, there will always be a part of me that only Grandma will understand. I want to thank her, she impacted upon my life in so many ways, some big, some small, all treasured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Sn6bCuPDw8I/AAAAAAAAACI/vgdER4Mp_fg/s1600-h/Grandma.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367898276945445826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Sn6bCuPDw8I/AAAAAAAAACI/vgdER4Mp_fg/s400/Grandma.JPG" 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/2613046872372555001-8493719748832732585?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/8493719748832732585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/08/remembering.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/8493719748832732585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/8493719748832732585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/08/remembering.html' title='Remembering . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Sn6bCuPDw8I/AAAAAAAAACI/vgdER4Mp_fg/s72-c/Grandma.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-4894436128026618019</id><published>2009-08-08T11:11:00.001+12:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T11:22:31.511+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Double Drabbling . . .</title><content type='html'>At &lt;a href="http://peterdewolf.wordpress.com/"&gt;Peter's&lt;/a&gt; blog that I have been &lt;s&gt;reading&lt;/s&gt; devouring he is &lt;em&gt;still&lt;/em&gt; holding a contest, a &lt;a href="http://peterdewolf.wordpress.com/2009/08/04/contest-ish/"&gt;Drabble&lt;/a&gt; contest no less. I'm excited, two of my favourite things together... contests and writing oh my!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hinted there might have been another dabble up my sleeve in my first entry... and this one fell out later on ... enjoy, or not, but I enjoyed dabbling it so there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devil in Disguise&lt;br /&gt;I taunt you&lt;br /&gt;With all my cruel jokes&lt;br /&gt;I play deep inside&lt;br /&gt;...your mind&lt;br /&gt;One minute&lt;br /&gt;I tell you that I love you&lt;br /&gt;The next breath I tell you that I lied&lt;br /&gt;I bring you gifts&lt;br /&gt;And tokens from my heart&lt;br /&gt;I weave our futures so we’ll never be apart&lt;br /&gt;I crush your heart beneath my boot&lt;br /&gt;Yet the tears that are welling inside I hide&lt;br /&gt;I’m a devil with a conscience&lt;br /&gt;In you I do confide&lt;br /&gt;You tell me I’m your angel&lt;br /&gt;You tell me to decide&lt;br /&gt;But I’m a fallen angel&lt;br /&gt;A devil in disguise&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-4894436128026618019?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/4894436128026618019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/08/double-drabbling.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/4894436128026618019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/4894436128026618019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/08/double-drabbling.html' title='Double Drabbling . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-8093987909192691684</id><published>2009-08-06T23:50:00.004+12:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T00:20:24.565+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Drabbling . . .</title><content type='html'>At &lt;a href="http://peterdewolf.wordpress.com/"&gt;Peter's&lt;/a&gt; blog that I have been &lt;s&gt;reading&lt;/S&gt; devouring he is holding a contest, a &lt;a href="http://peterdewolf.wordpress.com/2009/08/04/contest-ish/"&gt;Drabble&lt;/a&gt; contest no less.  I'm excited, two of my favourite things together... contests and writing oh my!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyrandomdrabbler.... here goes entry number one (possibly of one, however there may be more be more drabbles up my sleve)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sit and watch the sunset sinking in the sky&lt;br /&gt;All my thoughts drift back to you &lt;br /&gt;Although I can’t think why&lt;br /&gt;You cheated and you hurt me with all those things you said&lt;br /&gt;I believed you as you whispered you love me &lt;br /&gt;Apparently it was it all in my head&lt;br /&gt;Someday I will forgive you and time will heal my heart&lt;br /&gt;Although I thought we’d be together &lt;br /&gt;And that we’d never be apart&lt;br /&gt;So as I watch the last rays sinking upon the tranquil sea&lt;br /&gt;I’ll lift my head and show you&lt;br /&gt;Just how strong I can be&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-8093987909192691684?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/8093987909192691684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/08/drabbling.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/8093987909192691684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/8093987909192691684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/08/drabbling.html' title='Drabbling . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-2538932976875652830</id><published>2009-08-03T22:24:00.003+12:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T22:45:06.641+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing with fire . . .</title><content type='html'>I'm bad, but it feels so bloody good.  I've been flirting my little arse off with a man who I shouldn't be flirting with . . . &lt;br /&gt;But he flirts too so it's not really so bad huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyflirthag its all good because I'm only going to end up hurting myself in the long run and what are hopes and dreams for if not for trampling in the dirt and destroying??  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a positive note I'm scarily excited about returning to work tomorrow - I still don't feel 100% but I have been working on my arse groove on the couch for well to long now, I'm worried about &lt;s&gt;bedsores&lt;/s&gt; couchsores.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess its sad but work is largely how I define myself; I'm good at the two jobs I do (completely different career fields) and miss working with people and fake smiling at crap jokes and customers, hell I even miss being talked to like I'm a lower than the germs on the dogshit stuck to your shoe...  Ahhh it'll be good to be back.  Also sick to death of people telling me to look after myself, yes I was a dumbshit for getting sick but it wasn't entirely my fault, just plain old fashioned bad luck...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blah blah blah eat healthy, get some sleep, blah blah have you taking your meds, blah blah bladdy farken blah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a bollywood party for Loo's Dads 60th on the weekend which was almost as awesome as it could be, the only thing that would have made it better would be if Loo had got her crazy butt back from the bigwideworld and come home for it but no... instead I had organised a surprise video birthday message from her for her Pa which we played on the big screen. Was awesome seeing the looks on her parentals faces as they watched it, however, being the massive sook I am I bloody &lt;s&gt;cried&lt;/s&gt; sobbed like a small child lost in the supermarket AND I had already watched it about 40trillion times to harden up... tear duct fail!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was a great night, a perfect re-entry for me into civilisation, and wearing sparkly jingly clothes that make you sound like a windchime in a cyclone with pretty bindi's and sparkling eyelashes rocked... In fact when I grow up I want to be indian now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-2538932976875652830?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/2538932976875652830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/08/playing-with-fire.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/2538932976875652830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/2538932976875652830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/08/playing-with-fire.html' title='Playing with fire . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-7022983631052196458</id><published>2009-07-27T21:25:00.002+12:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T22:05:11.069+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Ticking . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Things that make me tick . . .&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Sm17r9ZKTDI/AAAAAAAAABU/3C6uRQyJXE0/s1600-h/Tick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363078726412815410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Sm17r9ZKTDI/AAAAAAAAABU/3C6uRQyJXE0/s400/Tick.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-7022983631052196458?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/7022983631052196458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/07/ticking.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/7022983631052196458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/7022983631052196458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/07/ticking.html' title='Ticking . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Sm17r9ZKTDI/AAAAAAAAABU/3C6uRQyJXE0/s72-c/Tick.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-4238150065661699175</id><published>2009-07-26T18:18:00.004+12:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T19:03:42.497+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Good &amp; Bad . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Dear &lt;s&gt;Readers&lt;/s&gt;People Who Stumbled Upon This Blog,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I have been absent (can you be absent when you haven't really got into a regular habbit yet?). There are both good and bad reasons for my silence. . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The Good:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A vacation was had, enjoyed and relaxed on. 7 Days of heaven in Samoa, reading plenty of books, melting from my lounger into the sea, and I found Nemo!!!, hung out with Mamakat, and generally got absorbed into the culture and warmth of the islands. . . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362656999980010082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Smv8IQASCmI/AAAAAAAAAA0/bra7miI6hnc/s320/IMG_4868.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Smv8IoiM_iI/AAAAAAAAAA8/vHaUhOTB1mY/s1600-h/IMG_3830.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362657006564736546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Smv8IoiM_iI/AAAAAAAAAA8/vHaUhOTB1mY/s320/IMG_3830.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The Bad:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Post vacation I had a stay in hospital... no I didn't catch anything nasty from drinking the water or from any large (or small) Samoan men. The hemaglobin and iron bottomed out of my bloodstream and I was left running on empty. Big time, I had zero energy, I couldn't walk more than a few meters without feeling light-headed or dizzy and my motivation had reached an all time low. In hindsight, this wasn't a new problem, and I had been feeling run down for a while, however me being me I refused to stop and listen to my body so it stopped me...bugger! Thanks to the anonymous donors, who have since topped me up with some red stuff! I am feeling healthier already and getting back on track slowly. . . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I have to say I felt a little bit like a vampire or Sookie Stackhouse, my transfusion started at 1am and I was wheeled (in bed) through the hospital from ED to ward largely in the dark. . . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Smv_Z6wm-SI/AAAAAAAAABE/MJ1kpItdySE/s1600-h/P220709_23.34.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362660602049657122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Smv_Z6wm-SI/AAAAAAAAABE/MJ1kpItdySE/s320/P220709_23.34.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Needless to say I have returned (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-4238150065661699175?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/4238150065661699175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/07/good-bad.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/4238150065661699175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/4238150065661699175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/07/good-bad.html' title='Good &amp; Bad . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/Smv8IQASCmI/AAAAAAAAAA0/bra7miI6hnc/s72-c/IMG_4868.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-5356924421386790483</id><published>2009-06-20T09:49:00.002+12:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T10:01:44.568+12:00</updated><title type='text'>A Horrible Person . . .</title><content type='html'>I think I am a horrible person, the worst of the worst - I am practically the beggar on the street corner with a pile of starving puppies that I will drown and use the money you give me to buy beer. . .  well not quite I do love puppies (and kittens and chicks and baby most things except baby snakes they are still snakes at the end of the day).  Why am I horrific, a threat to society and possibly certifiable? Well . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a trainee paramedic, I am learning and LOVING it! OK not so bad so far.... Because at the moment my "paramedic" career is still in its very early stages I am a volunteer, so I only do one 12hour shift a week.  Which is enough quite frankly, especially alongside my paid 60 hour week, training and studying.  Still we haven't yet got to the root of my evil ... here goes... I crave, yearn for and hope that people hurt themselves, try to die, maim, injure, crash, slip, trip and fall - but and this is the kicker - I want them to do it only in the 12 hour period when I am working.  Now before you send the men in the white coats to take me away, I don't want them to die - that is messy and too much paperwork but I do want the opportunity to save them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am jealous tonight because a man tried to commit suicide by shooting himself, he succeeded in shooting himself but not in dying... good result - except for the fact he did it on day shift and not my night shift.... does that make me evil????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lights and sirens and blood, guts and gore press my buttons...problem?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-5356924421386790483?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/5356924421386790483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/horrible-person.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/5356924421386790483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/5356924421386790483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/horrible-person.html' title='A Horrible Person . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-3805807911157135603</id><published>2009-06-18T18:59:00.003+12:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T19:43:57.132+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Loving My Family and Friends . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Whilst keeping up the smoke screen, there are people that matter to me that will no doubt make an appearance here in some form. So I thought it was only fair to introduce you to some star players in my life:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;MUMMAKAT&lt;/span&gt;: My Mum, also one of my best friends. She &lt;s&gt;dragged&lt;/s&gt; brought me pretty much single-handedly and bloody well if I do say so myself. She is giver, a lover (not in the family that plays together stays together way), a mentor and an absolute go getter. Mummakat and I have always had plenty of fun together, we drink together, shop together and cry together. She is my inspiration and my rock, and &lt;s&gt;often&lt;/s&gt; some times helps me out financially *grin*!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;THE SPERM DONOR&lt;/span&gt;: Dad, with whom I don't have much of a relationship. No, He wasn't an actual sperm donor - He and Mamakat were married! As a child I spent half of every holidays with him, it was only as I grew up that I realised there wasn't much holding us together apart from DNA. He has made me cry more than any other in my life, and let me down but obviously our expectations of each other are just not on par. We do the birthday and christmas phone call thing but that is about it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;SMACK&lt;/span&gt;: Dads daughter, my &lt;s&gt;half&lt;/s&gt; sister who I have never thought of as a half any thing! Whilst I have never lived with her, we are close and always have been. Six years my junior, she has finally reached the age where we can drink together and when we catch up now it is &lt;s&gt;drunken&lt;/s&gt; fun. She is studying in another city to me right now and I am so proud of her (and her drunken escapades).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;DJTD&lt;/span&gt;: One of my best friends, we have survived living together and are still as tight as anything. She has seen me at my best, my worst, my most liquored and still loves me. She is a superhero, a &lt;s&gt;boring&lt;/s&gt; accountant by day and a sex-pot DJ by night! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;LOO&lt;/span&gt;: Another bestie - we haven't known each other for that long but we clicked the first night we met (over a vodka or twelve) and haven't looked back. She and I are &lt;s&gt;trouble&lt;/s&gt; TROUBLE together, especially with a bottle involved. She is off galavanting around the globe currently as I stay behind missing her plenty and living vicariously through her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;MIDGET&lt;/span&gt;: A great friend, shorter than me &lt;s&gt;by miles&lt;/s&gt; a wee bit which is almost unheard of! She is a party animal always up for fun and antics. A superstar of a woman, determined, driven and absolutly addicted to facebook.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;THE EX&lt;/span&gt;: The man I spoke of in &lt;a href="http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/loved.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; post, now a friend.  We are currently selling the home we brought together and dealing with all the emotions involved with that, not to mention the end of our relationship. Both our families had us pretty much walking down the isle, so it was a bit of a shock for all when we parted. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-3805807911157135603?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/3805807911157135603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/loving-my-family-and-friends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/3805807911157135603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/3805807911157135603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/loving-my-family-and-friends.html' title='Loving My Family and Friends . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-869886932767594081</id><published>2009-06-17T22:39:00.000+12:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T22:40:49.688+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Small Things . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Laughter on a warm summer breeze,&lt;br /&gt;Goosebumps along arms after a sneeze,&lt;br /&gt;A lighthouse blinking on a misty night,&lt;br /&gt;The suns rays sinking slowly from sight,&lt;br /&gt;A flutter of eyelashes upon a cheek,&lt;br /&gt;Children around corners taking a peek,&lt;br /&gt;Making pictures out of a cloud,&lt;br /&gt;Realising you’re thinking aloud,&lt;br /&gt;The soft coos of a wandering dove,&lt;br /&gt;Lying in the arms of the one you love,&lt;br /&gt;Snuggling for a cuddle on Grandpa’s lap,&lt;br /&gt;Retreating to the sun for an afternoon nap,&lt;br /&gt;The coolness of sheets when the night is hot,&lt;br /&gt;The twirling of a mobile over a cot,&lt;br /&gt;Wrinkles on the back of a hand,&lt;br /&gt;Running carefree along white sand,&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight kisses being tucked up in bed,&lt;br /&gt;Songs that get stuck in your head,&lt;br /&gt;Lullabies drifting in from sleep,&lt;br /&gt;Diving into water so clear and deep,&lt;br /&gt;Finishing sentences of someone dear,&lt;br /&gt;Mum rocking away an innocent fear,&lt;br /&gt;Sore stomachs from giggles and laughs,&lt;br /&gt;Finding love along a rocky path,&lt;br /&gt;Receiving letters in the mail,&lt;br /&gt;Feeling the sting of winter’s hail,&lt;br /&gt;Loving people who love you as well,&lt;br /&gt;Catching snowflakes on tongues as they fell,&lt;br /&gt;Picking up the phone and having a long chat,&lt;br /&gt;Sitting cross legged on the classroom mat,&lt;br /&gt;Small things. . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-869886932767594081?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/869886932767594081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/small-things.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/869886932767594081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/869886932767594081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/small-things.html' title='Small Things . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-1959054122022696376</id><published>2009-06-16T19:18:00.003+12:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T19:22:15.198+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Arian . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SjdIDOvCssI/AAAAAAAAAAs/hhr8Ife9-8U/s1600-h/bad+aries.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 232px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SjdIDOvCssI/AAAAAAAAAAs/hhr8Ife9-8U/s320/bad+aries.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347822302857966274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SjdIC5Q9jzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/EB2ZgY09TOI/s1600-h/good+aries.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SjdIC5Q9jzI/AAAAAAAAAAk/EB2ZgY09TOI/s320/good+aries.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347822297094655794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-1959054122022696376?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/1959054122022696376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/arian.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/1959054122022696376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/1959054122022696376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/arian.html' title='Arian . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SjdIDOvCssI/AAAAAAAAAAs/hhr8Ife9-8U/s72-c/bad+aries.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-5190552676941601005</id><published>2009-06-15T23:57:00.002+12:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T00:04:25.838+12:00</updated><title type='text'>So Angry I Could...</title><content type='html'>Why the hell can you not pick your family??  I know lots of really nice people that I would be happy to audition for the job - I'm sure they would not unload vitriolic shit on me, treat me with disrespect, or drive me to drink!  Not to mention filling up my inbox with their smack!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to report them as spam tomorrow, to protect and start proceedings with the lawyer to divorce myself from certian family members (not you Mamakat - you are ok :)).  But as for the rest of the greedy, money hungry, roach infested barstards they are out...... I AM OVER IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr  very grumped up right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bumtittyarseshittyfuckbuggerdamn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-5190552676941601005?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/5190552676941601005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/so-angry-i-could.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/5190552676941601005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/5190552676941601005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/so-angry-i-could.html' title='So Angry I Could...'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-8866983262232928102</id><published>2009-06-09T17:55:00.003+12:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T18:25:04.422+12:00</updated><title type='text'>(Un)Christian . . .</title><content type='html'>I am not Christian in many recognisable ways.&lt;br /&gt;But - In so many ways I believe I am . . . who's to judge, not you or I that is for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was baptised as a young baby, splashed happily in the font and chortled with laughter at the Dean as he performed the ceremony not to mention looking angelic and sweet in my antique christening gown.  Does that make me Christian?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I attended a christian school, went to church weekly, sang in the church choir and got to ring the church bells.  Does that make me Christian? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I no longer go to church expect for weddings, christenings, funerals and the like - I did go to for a thanksgiving service recognising the families and individuals that give their bodies for medical research but that was a one off.  Does that make me (un)Christian?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent hours in churches overseas, lighting candles, soaking up the peace and stunning awe inspiring surrounds.  Does that make me Christian?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a listener, the go to girl that people (friends and strangers alike) come to for advice and support.  I have supported a neighbour as her birth partner, visited and supported people who are incarcerated, been the best (loyal, caring, helpful) friend I can be to those in my life.  I take phone calls in the middle of the night and would never hesitate going to a friend (or friend of a friend) in their time of need.  I am not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, I stuff up as often as the next person, I give the wrong advice, but never for the wrong reason, after all my advice is only my opinion on what could be done.  I care about the world around me, and give to those in need when I can.  I support a number of charities both locally and globally.  Does that make me Christian?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a carer and a giver, I have been told a number of times that I actually need to put my own needs in front of others, I have trouble saying no to someone in need.  Does that make me Christian?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I write this post not to criticize, judge or preach.  I am simply writing this because a number of the blogs I read, and have stumbled across are from Christian families and individuals.  Some have actually made me feel inadequate in my lack of prayer (NOT intentionally I know!!), and I have in the past, hesitated to comment on posts asking for prayers for sick loved ones, to offer my moral support because I wasn't going to 'pray' for them.  However, whilst I am not a prayer, I do think about these families, positively, I wonder how they are and hope they have the strength they need to get through their turmoil.  Does that make me (un)Christian?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It got me thinking - even if I am not a church goer, prayer warrior or preacher, perhaps in my thoughts and actions I am in fact a Christian, in my attitude if not my beliefs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-8866983262232928102?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/8866983262232928102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/unchristian.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/8866983262232928102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/8866983262232928102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/unchristian.html' title='(Un)Christian . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-3801706608358035838</id><published>2009-06-08T21:33:00.003+12:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T22:32:40.390+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Liking . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;MUSIC:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Green Day, Oasis, Falter, Fly My Pretties, GunsNRoses, Bon Jovi, Robbie Williams, Metalica, 2Pac, Kings of Leon, Pearl Jam, Lady Gaga, Pink, Kooks, Dr Hook, Rod Stewart, Eminem, Silverchair, Nina Simone, OE Brasil, Frank Sinatra, Jace Everett, AC/DC, Fat Boy Slim, Bass Hunter, Outkast, Ben Harper, Tiki Taane, Thievery Corporation, Tahuna Breaks, Bjork, Che Fu, Wyclef, Sublime, Fall Out Boy.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;ORGANISING:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Tabbing, Dividing, Highlighting, Fling, Compiling, Colour Co-ordinating, Post-It Noting.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;BABIES/TODDLERS/CHILDREN:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;New Baby Smell, Snuggling, Feeding, Burping, Playing, Chortling, Baby Laughs, Comforting.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;DANCING:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;In the Street, On a Stage, In the Shower, In a Bar, By Myself, With Friends, In the Rain, On my Bed.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;READING:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Old books, New Books, Classics, Shakespeare, Jodi Picoult, Marian Keys, Autobiographies, Biographies, Histories, Chicklit, Bryce Courtenay, Fiction, Non-Fiction, Poetry, Short Stories, Long Stories, Series.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;BEACHES:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; Paradise, Peaceful, Stormy Waves, Surf, Skiing, Swimming, Fishing, Surfing, Sand Between Toes, Skinny-Dipping, Diving, Floating, Summers, Winters.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;WRITING:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Poems, Short Stories, Long-ish Stories, Notes, Love Letters, Postcards, Emails, Text Messages.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;ANIMALS:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Cats, Dogs, Elephants, Fish, Dolphins, Whales, Wild, Domestic, Furry, Fluffy, Cuddly.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;FRIENDS:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The Girls, School Friends, Work Friends, New Friends, Old Friends, Girl Friends, Boy Friends, Family Friends, Family Who are Friends.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;RELAXING:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Reading, Watching TV, Walking, Long Baths, Chatting, Coffees, Mini Breaks, Skiing, Fishing, Loving, Snuggling, Cooking, Blobbing, Lie-Ins, Massages, Drinking.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;WORKING:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;People, Money, Emergencies, Food, Time Limits, Lights and Sirens, Uniforms, Beverages, Health, Adrenalin, Long Hours. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;TRAVELLING:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Short Distances, Long Distances, Cafes in Verona, Beaches in Fiji, Fun in Australia, Skiing Trips, Girls Weekends, Romantic Getaways, Baches, Homes Away from Home, Planes, Boats, Trains.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;ALSO:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Daffodils, Coffee,Lip Gloss, Wine, Gerbras, Mum's Roasts, Pets, Neighbours, Long Distant Friends, Home Cooked Meals, Cloud Watching, Photography, Beer, Sex, Movies, Vodka, Internet Time Wasting, Learning, Loving, Africa, Dreams, Quotes, Thai Food, Swinging, Laughing, Playing, Blankets, Mascara, Hugs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-3801706608358035838?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/3801706608358035838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/liking.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/3801706608358035838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/3801706608358035838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/liking.html' title='Liking . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-8074340881470071877</id><published>2009-06-05T10:53:00.004+12:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T11:09:03.520+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Loved . . .</title><content type='html'>To have loved and lost is better than never being loved at all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man that I spent the best part of 6 years with and I have parted ways, well not completely - I am amazed and honoured that we are still friends, and still working at being friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That may sound &lt;s&gt;impossible&lt;/s&gt; improbable but it has happened and I couldn't be happier. You see whilst we had lost the spark that held us together as a couple, I couldn't deny that he is a wonderful man and I spent years with him because I loved his company, his take on life, his sense of fun and his ability to love. Whilst we are no longer in each others lives as we were, we are both committed to staying in each others lives - we still talk, have coffees, fight, catch up with each other and share our joys/fears but now we do it as friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SihTeQghVvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/bQkvVD8DsIA/s1600-h/110_1016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343612737167644402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SihTeQghVvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/bQkvVD8DsIA/s320/110_1016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am blessed while we don't love each other in 'that' way anymore we both still love each other... you can't ask for more than that. &lt;s&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-8074340881470071877?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/8074340881470071877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/loved.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/8074340881470071877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/8074340881470071877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/loved.html' title='Loved . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SihTeQghVvI/AAAAAAAAAAM/bQkvVD8DsIA/s72-c/110_1016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-7910969568532968746</id><published>2009-06-01T23:10:00.003+12:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T23:24:08.307+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Writing . . .</title><content type='html'>I have written all manner of stories, poems and speeches ever since I could write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoy it even if I am not overly good at it - it is a release and to an extent my personal journal and journey. My poetry especially reads like a diary, my teenage angst is documented, loves, fears and moments of stress and happiness all make an appearance, in saying that I am not sure if it will make much of an appearance on this blog - because it is so personal - it would be like letting strangers loose in my underwear drawer...vaguely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The previous post is a piece I wrote at University - we had to write "500 words on anything". Don't ask where I got the idea to delve into the sex life of animals, your guess is as good as mine. Whoever said the mind works in mysterious ways was 100% correct, maybe 120% in my case.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-7910969568532968746?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/7910969568532968746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/writing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/7910969568532968746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/7910969568532968746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/writing.html' title='Writing . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-594159259992918159</id><published>2009-06-01T22:59:00.002+12:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T23:24:30.335+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Intrigued . . .</title><content type='html'>I remember hearing a rumour that dolphins are the only animal other than humans that have sex for pleasure….no wonder they always look like they’re smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rumour is in fact a fact, although, in saying that, I’m not sure how we really know? Marine biologists have studied dolphin behaviour, noting that these frisky dolphins have sex often enough and frequently enough without it resulting in a pregnancy. Therefore they have concluded that dolphins are enjoying it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it that strange that dolphin’s indulge in this pleasure like humans? There is only one other species that scientists have concluded ‘engage’ for fun, the bonobo or pygmy chimpanzee. This primate is human’s closest genetic match, so maybe the reason this cheeky chimp enjoys it is because they are almost human – with a little more hair and bigger mouth than most of our species.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it isn’t that humans, dolphins and bonobo’s are the only species ‘doing it’ for fun and other animals would enjoy it more if it wasn’t for some physical constraints – it is entirely possible that with a little sex therapy many more species will be able to discover the joys of sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let’s look at the giraffe. Spotty, extremely tall and gangly, I can only imagine the restrictions those legs place on intercourse. I mean if you had to balance precariously on legs a couple of meters tall it would be pretty terrifying to have to take your dearly beloveds weight as well, especially with all those elbows and knees jabbing at you. I propose that with a little experimentation, sexual therapists could work out a more accommodating position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arguably the horniest animal of all is the rhinoceros, but it must be a touch intimidating to be confronted with that piercing appendage. I mean seriously, how do they snuggle without it getting in the way? These African beasts need to sit down and talk about how they are feeling, running up and just going for the deed is not enough. There are feelings and needs involved, the female rhino definitely has concerns – she’s big, hairy and kind of out of proportion, these need to be addressed. If a deeper more spiritual connection can be made I am certain that rhino coupling will be more enjoyable for both parties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there are animals with intimacy issues and some that are just doing it wrong but perhaps the species that is in most need of help is the praying mantis. If you haven’t heard, the female mantis has an intolerable habit of biting the head off her male partner at the end of copulation – I am positive this is the reason that researchers haven’t discovered that the praying mantises enjoy intercourse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a little patience I believe we can help the animal kingdom to discover their wilder side, and stop the bonobo’s and dolphins from feeling like outcasts. It may take some time but we can ensure that all species are at it like rabbits.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-594159259992918159?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/594159259992918159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/intrigued.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/594159259992918159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/594159259992918159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/06/intrigued.html' title='Intrigued . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-8162013147099140780</id><published>2009-01-27T20:36:00.004+13:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T23:23:47.897+12:00</updated><title type='text'>Anonymous . . .</title><content type='html'>I'm anonymous and I think I'll keep the smoke screen up and active.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is something to be said for being able to write without reservations about what people think, or will think. In saying that I have never had a problem with other peoples opinions - after all that is all they are opinions. I don't expect to like everyone I meet and likewise, I don't expect everyone to like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am ambitious, fun, introspective and a little quirky at times. I am not squeamish - in fact perhaps the opposite?! (unsqueamish?). I love stationary and organisation; friends call it OCD. I am relatively unencumbered other than beautiful friendships and family, a cat and part time custody of a BIG hairy dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-8162013147099140780?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/8162013147099140780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/01/anonymous.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/8162013147099140780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/8162013147099140780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/01/anonymous.html' title='Anonymous . . .'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2613046872372555001.post-9022376880052024651</id><published>2009-01-27T19:41:00.002+13:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T20:11:16.464+13:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have been thinking, contemplating, procrastinating and fiddling around with the idea of writing my own blog for a while, however, I am unsure if I have anything worth &lt;s&gt;saying&lt;/s&gt; writing or &lt;s&gt;reading&lt;/s&gt; posting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;We shall see I guess...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2613046872372555001-9022376880052024651?l=emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/feeds/9022376880052024651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/01/ive-been-thinking.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/9022376880052024651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2613046872372555001/posts/default/9022376880052024651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmzbeenthinking.blogspot.com/2009/01/ive-been-thinking.html' title='Thinking ...'/><author><name>EmMz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02353853595622281398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_J7mov3-ADOQ/SnpUebsfDmI/AAAAAAAAABo/xMTwANtoOWc/S220/IMG_3830.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
