<?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-7415500027308008739</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:56:07.440-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Richard's UberCool Blog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-4630773275691602078</id><published>2011-06-01T07:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T06:56:28.096-05:00</updated><title type='text'>6/1/2011</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Breakfast: 1/2 burger and 2 egg omelette, whole wheat toast, OJ. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lunch: 5 bite salad, Babybel, Trail Mix bar.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Snack: Been a stressful day, forgot to take a pic first.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dinner: 2 BBQ'D chicken tenders, grilled.1/2 ear of corn. No pic, royally pissed by now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dessert: scoop of low fat ice cream and a tiny piece of cake. No pic, going to bed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/-JadYq7WHIrA/TeacTAmKCRI/AAAAAAAAAD0/N1Q-Q2UF-6E/1306958908706.png' /&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-cxsizLztbYg/TeaC-loPjvI/AAAAAAAAADw/eGP9yrjMByQ/1306952412426.png' /&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/-znbwjYpIzj0/TeYt98urquI/AAAAAAAAADs/M_4ix0ap6GY/1306930618323.png' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-4630773275691602078?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/4630773275691602078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2011/06/612011.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/4630773275691602078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/4630773275691602078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2011/06/612011.html' title='6/1/2011'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/-JadYq7WHIrA/TeacTAmKCRI/AAAAAAAAAD0/N1Q-Q2UF-6E/s72-c/1306958908706.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-4070463785872136892</id><published>2011-05-31T11:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T23:05:48.056-05:00</updated><title type='text'>5/31/2011</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Breakfast: 2 eggs over medium, not from concentrate OJ, whole wheat toast with butter.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-1VnNv5wSQ6Q/TeUdPItRtXI/AAAAAAAAADY/4FFqIkPPN8A/1306843502922.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lunch: 5 bite salad with Caesar dressing and Feta Cheese, Babybel and trail mix bar.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-ElZxogE29M4/TeUdPw6VzBI/AAAAAAAAADc/iDYokJWvuL4/1306860845647.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Afternoon Snack: Apple&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-b8LGK77Pseo/TeU7RstPBSI/AAAAAAAAADg/wQp6-wNvwj8/1306868529690.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dinner: 3 Salmon sushi wraps! Thanks Anna!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/--_4riCZ7Fhc/TeVzcfwtnqI/AAAAAAAAADk/CotRg51SJ-g/1306882905140.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dessert: Little bit of Bunny Tracks&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-2JwI_q-1_3A/TeWLifaz6WI/AAAAAAAAADo/HRWwLdeJY7U/1306889074924.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/-1VnNv5wSQ6Q/TeUdPItRtXI/AAAAAAAAADY/4FFqIkPPN8A/1306843502922.png' /&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/-b8LGK77Pseo/TeU7RstPBSI/AAAAAAAAADg/wQp6-wNvwj8/1306868529690.png' /&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-ElZxogE29M4/TeUdPw6VzBI/AAAAAAAAADc/iDYokJWvuL4/1306860845647.png' /&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-2JwI_q-1_3A/TeWLifaz6WI/AAAAAAAAADo/HRWwLdeJY7U/1306889074924.png' /&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/--_4riCZ7Fhc/TeVzcfwtnqI/AAAAAAAAADk/CotRg51SJ-g/1306882905140.png' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-4070463785872136892?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/4070463785872136892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2011/05/5312011.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/4070463785872136892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/4070463785872136892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2011/05/5312011.html' title='5/31/2011'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/-1VnNv5wSQ6Q/TeUdPItRtXI/AAAAAAAAADY/4FFqIkPPN8A/s72-c/1306843502922.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-3045482163380397894</id><published>2011-04-08T07:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-09T16:14:39.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I am an engineer...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, Thursday night my wife and I went out to dinner. We really needed a date since I have been working overtime and that means less time with the family. During the course of dinner, we talked about my job and why I am working overtime.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"I have a bunch of drawings that I need to get done."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Blank stare.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hmmm...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, I asked for a piece of paper and a pen and started to work through a simple air conditioning system for a car. Switches, valves, wiring, fans, etc. The I started to detail what I needed to know/investigate/understand for each of those components, then how they interact with the vehicle...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My wife reached out her hand and touched mine, and with the most honest and sincere look on her face said&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Dude, your job SUCKS!!!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-3045482163380397894?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/3045482163380397894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-am-engineer.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/3045482163380397894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/3045482163380397894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-am-engineer.html' title='I am an engineer...'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-413876453759211284</id><published>2010-08-11T13:34:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T20:46:50.610-05:00</updated><title type='text'>28...</title><content type='html'>I feel like my life has changed a lot this past year...and it has. First time Dad, finished my Master's Degree, bought my first "real" computer game (StarCraft 2), etc... Ok that last one was kind of lame.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought that I'd put together a list of random things I have learned in my vast 28 years on this Earth. Better yet, I thought I'd share it with you. So, here goes...and in no particular order.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) Don't dive into a kiddie swimming pool. No matter how hot it is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) Guys aren't always faster than girls. (Thanks Hannah...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) A toy submarine impeller can get really embedded in your sister's hair. Don't use toy submarines as fans.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) Vehicles are money pits.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5) God will always be there for me. No matter what.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6) Owning a house is a lot of work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7) Everyone is biased.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8) Having a kid shows a person how selfish they really are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9) I can always justify spending money on something I want.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10) I usually regret spending money on something I want.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11) Macs are the bomb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;12) People who are the closest to you can hurt you the most.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13) Forgiving someone does not mean what they did was ok, and doesn't take away consequences.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;14) Peanut butter makes you fat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;15) You won't go to Hell for drinking or reading fantasy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;16) Sushi isn't something to be scared of.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;17) Honesty really is the best policy. Soap doesn't taste good at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;18) People (and that includes me) change.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;19) Just because you CAN finally make out with your girl, doesn't mean you SHOULD at every opportunity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;20) A jar of jelly makes a huge mess when dropped on a tile floor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;21) Guns are cool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;22) Parents are not invincible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;23) Kansas is a lot hotter in the summer and colder in the winter than Pennsylvania. Seriously.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;24) Sports can play an important part in a child's development. They did in mine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;25) I can run more than 3 miles without dying. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;26) Metabolism changes with age. And that sucks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;27) Relationships change over time, but some people will be your friends forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;28) I need a lot of the "wisdom from above" (See James 3:17) Especially the peaceable, gentle, open to reason...ok, the whole verse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-413876453759211284?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/413876453759211284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2010/08/28_11.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/413876453759211284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/413876453759211284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2010/08/28_11.html' title='28...'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-7053435174808743113</id><published>2010-07-26T20:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T20:39:53.788-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wink Hartman. Jabberwocky</title><content type='html'>So, we've been watching the first season of Better Off Ted, and there was a part of the show that I thought fit a certain political candidate very well.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First, Jabberwocky!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NH0tCtXwekk&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NH0tCtXwekk&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next, a Wink Hartman ad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vFXFTU-XdV8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vFXFTU-XdV8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Notice anything similar? Perhaps a lack of content, maybe some smoke and mirrors?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wink Hartman. Jabberwocky. 'Nuff said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-7053435174808743113?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/7053435174808743113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2010/07/wink-hartman-jabberwocky.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/7053435174808743113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/7053435174808743113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2010/07/wink-hartman-jabberwocky.html' title='Wink Hartman. Jabberwocky'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-7705373941125551591</id><published>2010-04-14T17:32:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T17:36:55.475-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More Bathroom Etiquette...</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in;mso-outline-level:1"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;This was forwarded to me, and I couldn't help reposting it. I laughed until I cried when I read this. Enjoy!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in;mso-outline-level:1"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial;font-size:7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 32px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in;mso-outline-level:1"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:24.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:9.0pt;font-family: Arial;color:black;mso-font-kerning:18.0pt"&gt;How to Poop at Work&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;We've all been there but don't like to admit it. We've all kicked back in our cubicles and suddenly felt something brew down below. As much as we try to convince ourselves otherwise, the WORK POOP is inevitable. For those who hate pooping at work, following is the Survival Guide for taking a dump at work. Memorize these definitions and pooping at work will become a pure pleasure.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;ESCAPEE&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definition: a fart that slips out while taking a leak at the urinal or forcing a poop in a stall. This is usually accompanied by a sudden wave of panic embarrassment. This is similar to the hot flash you receive when passing an unseen police car and speeding. If you release an escapee, do not acknowledge it. Pretend it did not happen. If you are standing next to the farter in the urinal, pretend you did not hear it. No one likes an escapee, it is uncomfortable for all involved. Making a joke or laughing makes both parties feel uneasy.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;JAILBREAK&lt;/b&gt; (Used in conjunction with ESCAPEE)&lt;br /&gt;Definition: When forcing poop, several farts slip out at a machine gun pace. This is usually a side effect of diarrhea or a hangover. If this should happen, do not panic. Remain in the stall until everyone has left the bathroom so to spare everyone the awkwardness of what just occurred.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;COURTESY FLUSH&lt;br /&gt;Definition: The act of flushing the toilet the instant the nose cone of the poop log hits the water and the poop is whisked away to an undisclosed location. This reduces the amount of air time the poop has to stink up the bathroom. This can help you avoid being caught doing the WALK OF SHAME.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;WALK OF SHAME&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definition: Walking from the stall, to the sink, to the door after you have just stunk up the bathroom. This can be a very uncomfortable moment if someone walks in and busts you. As with all farts, it is best to pretend that the smell does not exist. Can be avoided with the use of the COURTESY FLUSH.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;OUT OF THE CLOSET POOPER&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definition: A colleague who poops at work and damn proud of it. You will often see an Out Of The Closet Pooper enter the bathroom with a newspaper or magazine under their arm. Always look around the office for the Out Of The Closet Pooper before entering the bathroom.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;THE POOPING FRIENDS NETWORK (PFN)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definition: A group of coworkers who band together to ensure emergency pooping goes off without incident. This group can help you to monitor the whereabouts of Out Of The Closet Poopers, and identify SAFE HAVENS.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;SAFE HAVENS&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definition: A seldom used bathroom somewhere in the building where you can least expect visitors. Try floors that are predominantly of the opposite sex. This will reduce the odds of a pooper of your sex entering the bathroom.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;TURD BURGLAR&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definition: A pooper who does not realize that you are in the stall and tries to force the door open. This is one of the most shocking and vulnerable moments that can occur when taking a dump at work. If this occurs, remain in the stall until the Turd Burglar leaves. This way you will avoid all uncomfortable eye contact.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;CAMO-COUGH&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definition: A phony cough that alerts all new entrants into the bathroom that you are in a stall. This can be used to cover-up a WATERMELON, or to alert potential Turd Burglars. Very effective when used in conjunction with an ASTAIRE.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;ASTAIRE&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definition: A subtle toe-tap that is used to alert potential Turd Burglars that you are occupying a stall. This will remove all doubt that the stall is occupied. If you hear an Astaire, leave the bathroom immediately so the pooper can poop in peace.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;WATERMELON&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definition: A turd that creates a loud splash when hitting the toilet water. This is also an embarrassing incident. If you feel a Watermelon coming on, create a diversion. See CAMO-COUGH.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;HAVANA OMELET&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definition: A load of diarrhea that creates a series of loud splashes in the toilet water. Often accompanied by an Escapee. Try using a Camo-Cough with an Astaire.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;UNCLE TED&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definition: A bathroom user who seems to linger around forever. Could spend extended lengths of time in front of the mirror or sitting on the pot. An Uncle Ted makes it difficult to relax while on the crapper, as you should always wait to drop your load when the bathroom is empty. This benefits you as well as the other bathroom attendees.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:.1pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:.1pt; margin-left:0in;mso-para-margin-top:.01gd;mso-para-margin-right:0in;mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd;mso-para-margin-left:0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:9.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;b&gt;FLY BY&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definition: The act of scouting out a bathroom before pooping. Walk in and check for other poopers. If there are others in the bathroom, leave and come back again. Be careful not to become a FREQUENT FLYER. People may become suspicious if they catch you constantly going into the bathroom.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-7705373941125551591?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/7705373941125551591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2010/04/more-bathroom-etiquette.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/7705373941125551591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/7705373941125551591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2010/04/more-bathroom-etiquette.html' title='More Bathroom Etiquette...'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-5627293060237850837</id><published>2010-04-11T10:39:00.015-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T20:35:33.563-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Agitators...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Today I am doing tech at church and we are starting a new series on the book of James. James is a very practical book of the Bible, and today part of what we are learning about is being ok with hard times in our lives, knowing that God will take care of us. He'll use it to Grow us in faith so we trust Him even more. Another part is about financial security.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is all very applicable to me since I am dealing with both of those areas in my life right now. Yesterday I had a long list of things to do, but first I went to throw a load of laundry in. Since Anna is very close to delivery, it's hard for her to go up and down the stairs with the laundry basket, so I've taken on that responsibility. So, I turned on the washing machine and saw a blue flash. Ooooh...not cool. Well, it filled up with water, then stopped. It just stopped. No movement, no agitation. (By the way, I think it's cool that washing machines have agitators...I was always told that being an agitator was a bad thing.) Turns out, the timer was broken as well, so it actually did spin out, then promptly went to the next cycle and filled up with water again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I let it spin out then I unplugged it before it went to the next cycle. Both the washer and dryer are old, and the timer on the dryer is broken as well, so it was time for new ones for sure. I just hadn't planned on it JUST NOW. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, as we are learning from James, these things are ok and God is in control, even when things don't fit in MY plans. Plus, there are always good things that come out of bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) This didn't happen AFTER Tigger was born when we have TONS of laundry to do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) This was our second set of used appliances, so it really was time for new ones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) We got to hang out with Dale and Sarah some more. They've been sick and we've missed them a lot. They provided the transportation for the new washer and dryer and Dale helped me get them set up. Mostly. I have the the rest to do today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) The set was on sale, and the store honored another store's offer for 10% off. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5) The new ones are MUCH more efficient, so hopefully our bills will go down. Or at least stay the same since we WILL be doing more laundry very soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6) The new washer doesn't have an agitator. I guess that's a good thing (?).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So yeah, it's a good thing. And the finances will iron out, God's in control.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Always.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Loading the new ones into the van...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/S8J33rAvpTI/AAAAAAAAACs/chUceiDeKlE/s320/DSCN4035.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459057496648820018" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They work!! Both of them!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/S8J4PLepoQI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Y88f6duJ3_Q/s320/DSCN4041.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459057900501180674" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;The old couple sitting in the garage...anyone want them?!?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/S8J4ffkiGoI/AAAAAAAAAC8/nPmfTgTdsXM/s320/DSCN4039.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459058180772469378" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/7415500027308008739-5627293060237850837?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/5627293060237850837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2010/04/of-agitators.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/5627293060237850837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/5627293060237850837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2010/04/of-agitators.html' title='Of Agitators...'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/S8J33rAvpTI/AAAAAAAAACs/chUceiDeKlE/s72-c/DSCN4035.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-2054539393057346115</id><published>2010-03-27T20:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T20:10:11.789-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Shower Help</title><content type='html'>So, today (rather, yesterday) I was asked to help with a baby shower for Anna. The ladies were going to be playing a game where Anna had to guess what my responses would be to some questions pertaining to the baby and our life after the birth. Lindsay Frasier and I came up with this video to help with the sharing of my thoughts at the baby shower.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NO_80Csg9hA"&gt;&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NO_80Csg9hA&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NO_80Csg9hA&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-2054539393057346115?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/2054539393057346115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2010/03/baby-shower-help.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/2054539393057346115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/2054539393057346115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2010/03/baby-shower-help.html' title='Baby Shower Help'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-8918117159699916871</id><published>2010-02-09T13:39:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T14:05:45.141-06:00</updated><title type='text'>FAIL</title><content type='html'>Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was (and still am) pumped about starting this running program. Problem is, I need a watch so I can time my intervals when running outside. We are trying to do the Dave Ramsey Cash Envelope system, and it works pretty well. Except that I (the spender) routinely run out of money while my wife (the saver) socks hers away in an undisclosed location and has enough for a car downpayment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I told myself I would force myself to wait to buy a watch until I got the next two weeks worth of spending money instead of just busting out the debit card like I usually do. The day came, I grabbed my cash Friday morning and was Walmart bound directly after work. I was hoping to find a watch on clearance (had to be a Timex, don't ask me why because I don't know).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And find one I did. It was $15 off the original price and $10 cheaper than similar "non-clearance" models. I was PUMPED!!! There was another that I liked better, but since I paid in cash my dollars were precious to me and I refused to pay more. I was so excited about this little spending victory that I called my wife on the 3 minute drive home from Walmart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got home, opened the box, and put the watch on. To my surprise and horror, the band was barely long enough to wrap around my wrist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, my friends, I had purchased a women's sports watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've tried for three days to be ok with wearing it. "It's just when you work out!" "No one will notice, you didn't when you bought it." (I'm an engineer, so that's probably not a valid argument.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't do it. I'm returning the watch tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-8918117159699916871?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/8918117159699916871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2010/02/fail.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/8918117159699916871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/8918117159699916871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2010/02/fail.html' title='FAIL'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-2718257626866490636</id><published>2010-02-07T10:37:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T11:45:08.768-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Done with School!!</title><content type='html'>YEAH!!!! Finally done with my Master's Degree!! Yes, this probably means that I won't be posting every Wednesday evening (not that I was before) but oh well. It's pretty weird to not have to be thinking about school all of the time, but it's nice. Not that I have much time to miss school with trying to get the house ready for baby Tigger. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now that school is over, it is time to focus on other things. Like &lt;a href="http://modernwarfare2.infinityward.com/agegate.php"&gt;Modern Warfare 2&lt;/a&gt;. Yup, I'm a gamer (Xbox) and this is probably the most fun and addictive game I have played to date. The hard part of gaming for me is not giving it a place higher than it should have. (Notice however that it's the first thing I listed.) ;-) So often I tend to want to just get through my day so I can play, but I need to remember that I need to enjoy everything I do, not set up gaming as the end goal of the day. Besides, it really bums me out when I don't do very well. Amazing how that affects my attitudes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So let's see, what else is there for me to do? Got to get the house ready. It is defying me pretty much at every step. Seriously. I think our house is haunted, and not by any ordinary ghost. We couldn't get a normal one that just groans and rattles chains in the attic. No, we had to get the ghost of some dude who tried to cross the Sahara without water, and died of dehydration. Every chance he gets he causes water leaks. Everywhere. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first year we lived in the house he was content with routinely breaking the water heater. We replaced that, but I think in the process he somehow escaped from living in there and has proceeded to wreak havoc throughout the rest of the house. The tub started leaking into the nursery, the dishwasher shutoff valve (which some genius installed in the ceiling of the basement and covered it up with drywall) started dripping, and water started coming into various parts of the basement when it rained. So I'm working on those, and most of the problems have been fixed. If it ever stops snowing I can fix the rest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Other than that I am going to try to lose some college weight and start working out again. I'm trying something new this time. I want to start running so both myself and Kelso can benefit from exercise. Tomorrow I plan on starting the &lt;a href="http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml"&gt;Couch to 5k&lt;/a&gt; running plan. Only problem is that we are supposed to get another 15 feet of snow by tomorrow night. Ok, so only 5-6 inches but that might delay my start a bit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-2718257626866490636?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/2718257626866490636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2010/02/done-with-school.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/2718257626866490636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/2718257626866490636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2010/02/done-with-school.html' title='Done with School!!'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-1313916794417978981</id><published>2009-12-09T12:21:00.015-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T22:17:32.617-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rock Bottom</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;As most of you know, we spent the week of Thanksgiving in the hospital. The purpose of this post is not to discuss the time at the hospital, but for my story you need to understand a basic timeline of events.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Monday evening we went to the ER in Newton as Anna had severe abdominal pain. They transported us to Wesley in Wichita so that her OB/GYN could look after her. She ended up having laproscopic surgery (where they put a little camera in your abdomen and look around) and had her appendix out around 3AM Tuesday morning. We hoped that it would get better, but she still had a blockage in her intestines, and instead of getting better, she actually got worse. By Thursday the pain meds were not helping anymore. She had to have an NG tube put in to relieve the pressure inside at about 1AM Friday morning. Saturday morning she was able to pass the blockage, and from then on we saw rapid improvement. We were able to leave the hospital early Sunday afternoon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In and through all of this I was trying my best to be there for Anna, 24/7. Thankfully we had wonderful support, and there was a second bed in the room so I was able to catch some sleep here and there when the pain meds would first kick in and Anna could doze fitfully. However, as I am sure you can imagine, my strength was fading as the week went on. By Thursday, I was completely spent and as Anna's pain intensified that evening, I hit rock bottom. This wasn't rock bottom like I needed to catch my breath, or get my second wind. This was something I had never experienced before. I simply had nothing left to give. Anna was screaming in pain and staring into my eyes and I had nothing left to give to her. I could not shine hope through my eyes anymore. I couldn't bear to see her in so much pain for another second. I wanted to run away, to hide my face from her pain and her cries for help. I had nothing left to give.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anna's cousin Sarah and my sister Rebekah both told me that it was ok if I didn't have answers, I needed to tell Anna that I was there to go through this with her. I entered the room and Anna was crying out in pain. I walked over to her and she grabbed hold of me saying through her cries "I can't do this anymore. This has to be the end" she moaned. I knew what she meant by the end...she was in so much pain she wanted to die. She had been in pain for nearly a week and it was only getting worse. Her eyes searched mine for some sign of hope.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I don't have any answers; I am at the end of my rope. I can't help you, but I am here with you and I will go through this WITH you" I answered with tears streaming down my face. I held on to her and prayed aloud to God for strength. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot explain to you what happened next, but I can describe it. I felt strength ripple through my body. I felt hope surge in my soul. I didn't have any answers, but I knew we were going to get through this. I had hope shining in my eyes again, and I had more to give. So much more. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eventually, after about 2 hours of intense "screaming" pain, the hospital was able to get a doctor to her and get her some relief. (Wesley had trauma victims and all of the Doctors at the hospital were in the OR at the time this was happening.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had been reading Romans for my devotions prior to all of this, and the words I took into the hospital with me on Monday were from Romans 8:26 "Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words." Those words were running through my mind all week as I continually cried out to God with fear, with anger and frustration, with questions...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It wasn't a magic prayer I prayed. It wasn't that God was busy and finally heard me. God allowed me to come to the end of myself so that His strength could be shown through me. 2 Corinthians 12: 10 says in part "For when I am weak, then I am strong." I knew those words, I had known them for a long time, but those few days in the hospital I actually LIVED them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hit rock bottom, and God was there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-1313916794417978981?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/1313916794417978981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/12/rock-bottom.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/1313916794417978981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/1313916794417978981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/12/rock-bottom.html' title='Rock Bottom'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-5133564930258378228</id><published>2009-11-11T18:13:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T19:16:11.272-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Engineers...</title><content type='html'>SWEET!!! Tonight is the last session of this class. Our last class comes next, which is essentially our final project. We won't be attending class except for January 27th when we present our final projects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 21 chapters in the book, and for our homework we had to go back through and summarize each chapter. So what does the teacher plan for tonight, you may ask? Why, he is going to go through every chapter and summarize it. Again. Gee thanks, I was wanting you to reiterate and regurgitate not only what you've said, but what I've said as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Engineers are funny people, we just have a different sense of humor. I totally get this joke, as in it is the kind of joke I could see one engineer playing on another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/e0FULHGwPkw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/e0FULHGwPkw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is freaking HILARIOUS!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week my co-worker has been off to take care of his wife and new baby boy, so I've had more work to stay on top of. It's been fun and challenging, but I'll certainly be happy for him to be back! :-) He and his wife decided that if they were going to have a baby, they were going to do it right and get all the stages from newborn to the "terrible twos" out of the way before he even was born. He weighed in at &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10 lbs, 13 oz &lt;/span&gt;and was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;21 in &lt;/span&gt;long!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since he has been gone, I've been trying to think of some practical joke to play on him when he gets back. I can't say yet if I have because he might read this, and that would totally ruin it, if there is anything. Unfortunately we don't have glass walls and big long formulas written out for me to change the "-" to a "+" in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should probably be nice to him because chances are he will be able to get me back even worse when we have our baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of funny engineers, someone on my floor posts quotes and jokes on his cube wall. It's great because his cube is right outside the break room so it gives us something to read while we heat up our leftovers. Here are a couple of gems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's only unethical if you get caught." (That was up when we were all taking our corporate ethics training...who says engineers don't have a sense of humor?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-5133564930258378228?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/5133564930258378228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/11/funny-engineers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/5133564930258378228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/5133564930258378228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/11/funny-engineers.html' title='Funny Engineers...'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-1809903307756064120</id><published>2009-11-04T18:40:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T19:47:12.986-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Engineers are normal people too...</title><content type='html'>Soooo annoyed with this class. Our teacher seriously has a god complex. Plus, that's not diet Mountain Dew he's drinking...that's the REAL stuff. Crap. Probably be here until 10PM. At least we only have one more class with him after tonight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been analyzing TV shows over the last week and have come to the conclusion that Engineering is a dying profession. No kid in their right mind who watches TV is going to want to be an Engineer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are all of these super cool shows on TV about detectives shooting criminals, cops shooting criminals, criminals shooting criminals, criminals trying to shoot cops...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About as close as engineers come to being on TV is on the &lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/big_bang_theory/"&gt;Big Bang Theory&lt;/a&gt; where four ubergeeks struggle to to understand how normal human beings operate. It's hilarious, but I don't know of any teenager who will watch that and think, "Wow, I want to go to college to I can be as maladjusted and socially inept as those nerds!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weird Al doesn't help my cause either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q42tEnt9GWg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q42tEnt9GWg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I should create a TV show with engineers shooting stuff. &lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/numb3rs/"&gt;Numb3rs&lt;/a&gt; kind of has the right idea, but Charlie Epps doesn't shoot stuff and without his older brother being an FBI agent, the show would tank. You have to mix in the geeks with people who shoot stuff and kick ass. Oh, and the smart people better not be all pimply and look like they live in their mom's basement. They have to look HOTT, have six pack abs, and have sexy girlfriends who are willing to put up with the geek to get the goods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I would be the star of the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But seriously, we need something that makes kids want to be engineers. We have to trick them into thinking that they will get to do really cool stuff, makes tons of money, and get all the hot girls. Plus occasionally they get to chase criminals, shoot guns, and blow stuff up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can end each show with the tagline "Be an Engineer. We are normal people too."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-1809903307756064120?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/1809903307756064120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/11/engineers-are-normal-people-too.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/1809903307756064120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/1809903307756064120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/11/engineers-are-normal-people-too.html' title='Engineers are normal people too...'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-5824794236686550882</id><published>2009-10-28T18:15:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T19:06:10.798-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Men's Favorite Store</title><content type='html'>Another "fun" Wednesday night is here, yeah!! (NOT)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Home Depot? Lowes? Gander Mountain? Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Victoria Secret!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife and I went there last week since she's pregnant and well, you should be able to surmise our reason for needing to shop there. It cracks me up to go there because there are always guys in there sheepishly following their women around. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us guys go in there and it's like being a kid in a candy store, but we can't touch anything. We make eye contact with each other and flash each other these pathetic little embarrassed grins as we tag behind the women and hope that somehow we'll "get some" for spending $50 on a piece of lace and string.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's the awkward silence as you stand outside the dressing room with the other guys. It's the worst place to be. You can't compliment the other guy's woman, you stare too long at the posters of the models and you start feeling like a perv, and hunting, fishing, or work sure aren't at the forefront of the mind for casual conversations. So you stand around staring at the floor shuffling your feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I have my own oddities to cap all of this off. While my wife was in the dressing room I saw the sports bra section at the OTHER side of the store and though to myself that I would be helpful and go get some of her sizes to see if they might be more comfortable for her to wear. I made a beeline over there and started rummaging through the drawers and hangers to find her size.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/SujW_55PzLI/AAAAAAAAACY/1aQd3OiOG7w/s1600-h/DSCN3469.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/SujW_55PzLI/AAAAAAAAACY/1aQd3OiOG7w/s320/DSCN3469.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397800546764573874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, this probably would have been fine if she had been right there with me, but I had to be THAT guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy in the dark jacket, alone on one side of the store, going through bras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy who unabashedly gathers an armful of them, marches right past all of the people waiting in line to check out, reaches the dressing room and hollers out to his woman that he has more for her to try on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really didn't occur to me that this might appear odd until I went and completed the entire process a second time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably wouldn't have been as bad if the dang things would stay on the hangers; I swear they are spring loaded to jump off when you touch them. Reaching for one in the middle or back of the rack means at least one in front and one behind would fall half off the hanger, and putting it back on means you have to touch the others and of course they fall off too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So not only was I THAT guy sorting through bras by himself, I was THAT guy looking like a perv as it appeared I was determined to touch as many as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I wasn't stuck staring at the floor shuffling my feet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-5824794236686550882?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/5824794236686550882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/10/mens-favorite-store.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/5824794236686550882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/5824794236686550882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/10/mens-favorite-store.html' title='Men&apos;s Favorite Store'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/SujW_55PzLI/AAAAAAAAACY/1aQd3OiOG7w/s72-c/DSCN3469.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-219593359995865456</id><published>2009-10-21T18:24:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T19:01:22.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bathroom Etiquette</title><content type='html'>You know, I am glad I created a blog over my furlough earlier this year. It is giving me something to do on these Wednesday nights when I don't have anything else to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about another funny engineering story? Well, maybe this happens not just with engineers but it makes sense since engineers are focused on efficiency and time management. And oh yeah, a complete disregard of social etiquette rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;What rule in particular you may a&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/St-ezPZLCuI/AAAAAAAAACI/KQ8Al7E1HzE/s1600-h/stall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 190px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/St-ezPZLCuI/AAAAAAAAACI/KQ8Al7E1HzE/s320/stall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395205481755773666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;sk? The rule which clearly states "Thou shalt not use a public restroom stall as thine office for either personal or private voice communications."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="file:///Users/richardbrown/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot-2.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was in the middle of completing my "daily download" (if you don't know what that is don't ask), and I heard the voice in the stall next to mine gruffly say "Hello?" At first I thought maybe he was talking to me (for what purpose I had no idea), but the one-sided conversation that followed took care of that question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you want?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? Just take him to school!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* more animated *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just take him to school!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep in mind that this is a busy morning, all stalls are full, and yet you could hear a pin drop. The only sound was this voice steadily growing louder and more impatient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, give him the phone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man now begins shouting into his phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"BOBBY, GO TO SCHOOL!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"BOBBY, GO TO SCHOOL!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"BOBBY, IF YOU DON'T GO TO SCHOOL I AM GOING TO HAVE TO COME HOME AND TAKE CARE OF YOU MYSELF!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"JUST GO TO SCHOOL!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"BOBBY, GO TO SCHOOL!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if you have ever found yourself in the position where the person next to you is talking on the phone, and you had tacos the night before, you understand the predicament I was in. It would be rude to just "let 'er rip!" when this guy is talking on his phone, wouldn't it? But what are you supposed to do? Isn't the bathroom the ONE place where it is acceptable to let all of that out? And sometimes...you just can't help it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, myself and the other 3 dudes trapped in their stalls formed a silent coalition to take the high road and keep completely quiet until he finished his yelling match with his son, finish, and leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awkward.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-219593359995865456?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/219593359995865456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/10/bathroom-etiquette.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/219593359995865456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/219593359995865456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/10/bathroom-etiquette.html' title='Bathroom Etiquette'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/St-ezPZLCuI/AAAAAAAAACI/KQ8Al7E1HzE/s72-c/stall.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-3346556187908690761</id><published>2009-10-14T19:40:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T19:58:30.937-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Heartbeat!!</title><content type='html'>Second session for tonight, and we are now in a slap-happy mood. I found a funny cat video and I can't even watch 15 seconds of it (without sound) without struggling to keep my laughter hidden behind my laptop. Here it is...maybe you guys can watch it and won't get in trouble for laughing in class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SUNmLuNdiL8&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SUNmLuNdiL8&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anna just sent me an IM that it is set to a jazzed up classical piece, so it might be funnier without the music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About the heartbeat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anna and baby Tigger had their second prenatal today, and we got to hear the heartbeat!! Yeah!! It wasn't quite as life changing as maybe I was expecting, but it was comforting to hear it. YES, there is a baby in there and YES, to all accounts, Anna and Baby are doing well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that right now, I am feeling relieved. Relieved that we heard the heartbeat. Relieved that the Dr. is ok with no immunizations. Relieved that Anna is doing well and her nausea is going away. I know that all of this is more real for Anna in some ways because it is her body that is actually changing. I'm sure it will become VERY real to me when I am handed a screaming baby in about 6-7 months. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-3346556187908690761?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/3346556187908690761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/10/heartbeat.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/3346556187908690761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/3346556187908690761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/10/heartbeat.html' title='Heartbeat!!'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-466835968403983962</id><published>2009-10-14T18:06:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T18:28:53.375-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Acceleration of a Mouse...</title><content type='html'>So it's Wednesday night and again I find myself sitting in a class where the teacher is reading AT us instead of teaching us. Right now he is reading notes that he took while reading the textbook himself. LOL, the class next to us just started watching a video, and the sound is coming through the wall. It is too muffled to really be understood, but it is joining with my teacher's voice into a monotonous monologue that seems to be grabbing my eyelids and pulling them shut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what about the acceleration of a mouse?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Engineers can be comical people, but they often don't know it. For instance, a discussion that I overheard last week was entirely serious, and yet I found it hilarious. Three engineers were discussing speed, and one engineer was arguing about how fast he could run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/StZdtjD6_VI/AAAAAAAAACA/Lr_IEewN0Sc/s1600-h/ani-mouse.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 255px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/StZdtjD6_VI/AAAAAAAAACA/Lr_IEewN0Sc/s320/ani-mouse.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392600640909933906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, but you can't catch a mouse."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well of course I can catch a mouse. I'm faster than a mouse!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Being faster doesn't have anything to do with it. The mouse accelerates faster than you..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the "discussion" is heating up with the second engineer exclaiming heatedly "It DOES TOO have to do with me being faster than a mouse. If you lined than mouse and I up in a 100 yard dash I would most definitely win!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///Users/richardbrown/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///Users/richardbrown/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot-1.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not talking about a race, I'm talking about acceleration. It takes an animal 6 to 8 strides to reach full speed and the mouse can take those 6 to 8 strides much more quickly than a human can."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time my fellow engineer friend and I who were eavesdropping were hiding our doubled over laughter behind our computer monitors. Who in a WORLD argues about the "acceleration of a mouse"!?!? You can't PAY for entertainment like this!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad thing is I understood and agree that a mouse accelerates faster than a human. Relatively.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-466835968403983962?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/466835968403983962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/10/acceleration-of-mouse.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/466835968403983962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/466835968403983962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/10/acceleration-of-mouse.html' title='The Acceleration of a Mouse...'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/StZdtjD6_VI/AAAAAAAAACA/Lr_IEewN0Sc/s72-c/ani-mouse.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-6958530688511945068</id><published>2009-10-07T19:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T20:40:50.954-05:00</updated><title type='text'>5 more classes...</title><content type='html'>Yeah. 5 more meetings of this class left, and then my last official class will be on January 27th, 2010. NONE TOO SOON!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am blogging in class. I'm sorry, if you have already read the chapter, why does the teacher think he has to sit here for 3 1/2 hrs and talk at you about the chapter!?!? Needless to say I have lost interest and have about surfed as much of the internet as is practical. So, I turn to writing, and I don't know what about yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a new video game for my birthday, Halo 3: ODST which stands for Orbital Drop Shock Troopers. It started out as an expansion pack for Halo 3 but morphed into its own game. So far it has been a lot of fun. Anna and I are playing co-op through the Legendary campaign (the hardest level). She's a great partner and it is fun to play with her. It's a cool reminder for me too when we get into the tough spots how we need to work together. There are definite rewards to sticking together and working as a team in the game, and that certainly holds true for life as well. Especially now that we are on the road to be a family of 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops, brain fart. I had to actually pay attention and answer a question for a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole thing of becoming a parent has me confused, excited, and feeling like I should be as selfish as possible now because my life will end in 7 months. Ok, not really, but this is such a huge responsibility that sometimes it boggles my mind. I know I can't see the full picture right now, but I know there are lots of changes down the road...and they've already started. Anna and I are learning more about each other and how to work together and not leave the other behind (remember the video game?). Truth be told, though, I am looking forward to the school years, helping with homework, being involved with them in sports and activities. I want to be that dad who is my kid's coach, goes to his/her games, events, etc. Some of the most fun years I remember as a kid were the couple of years I got to play baseball and my Dad was one of the coaches. I want to be the dad who his kids can look up to, but who can also meet them on their level. I know I'm going to mess up, and maybe that scares me most of all. I don't ever want to stunt them or give them problems because of my own failures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I really old enough to have a child? I'm 27, but good grief I sure don't feel like I am getting closer to 30 than 20. There still is too much to learn, too much to do, too much to mature in. I guess nobody feels like they are "ready" so I know I'm not the only one who feels like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another brain fart. Had to engage the teacher on hedging in the financial markets. This teacher is so boring that it feels like what I actually learned from reading is being sucked out and replaced with "duh..." He probably think we are a bunch of retards because every time he asks a questions everyone looks at him with a blank expression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah!! Break time!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-6958530688511945068?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/6958530688511945068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/10/5-more-classes.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/6958530688511945068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/6958530688511945068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/10/5-more-classes.html' title='5 more classes...'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-300369890989982418</id><published>2009-07-29T17:21:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T17:50:58.256-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday Nights</title><content type='html'>So, I had a dentist appointment Monday after work. What does that have to do with Wednesday nights? Well, other than having pearly whites to display in class presentations, it reminded me that I will be out of school (relatively) soon!!! The reason for the reminder was that she scheduled my 6 month checkup, and I was able to make it for WEDNESDAY in February, because I'll be DONE WITH SCHOOL!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, here I am THIS Wednesday night sitting with some classmates waiting for 6PM to roll around. Not looking forward to the next 8 week class that begins tonight. From what we have heard, our teacher is a Russian lady who has no sense of humor, loves giving out busy work, and will keep us until 10PM every class. Blech. Already I've had to do 2 homework assignments for this class and turn them in...and it hasn't even officially started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hey, it won't last forever and I hope that International Business holds some interesting concepts for me to learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH. The book. I've read the first two chapters of this book, and while it is an interesting read (for a textbook) I was shocked and disappointed to say the least when in the very first chapter he referenced (as actual footnote references) a previous work he had written, and Wikipedia. WTC!?!?! So, if he says it twice, in two different places, it must be true? I thought chapter 2 would be better, but 1 out of every 6 references were to books/papers the author had previously written. I think for this class I'm going to reference papers that I've already written.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun Times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-300369890989982418?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/300369890989982418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/07/wednesday-nights.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/300369890989982418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/300369890989982418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/07/wednesday-nights.html' title='Wednesday Nights'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-7689515523115744686</id><published>2009-07-21T21:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T21:30:37.821-05:00</updated><title type='text'>End of Furlough</title><content type='html'>So, the furlough is over. Bad news is that I can't say that I met all of my ambitious goals I set at the beginning. The good news is that I met some that I should have had but didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cancun was GREAT!!! We had a lot of fun, and seeing the ocean was so nice. I miss the ocean. I seriously can't think of a better place to retire than somewhere I can smell that ocean smell, feel that ocean breeze. I'm sure all of the people who have been through hurricanes will probably disagree with me...but there have to be storms in life so we really enjoy the good parts, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the descent back into Wichita, my right ear wouldn't pop despite chewing gum vigorously and drinking tomato juice (my drink of choice on an airplane, I'm not quite sure why). That set off a chain of events that included a bad sinus cold that I of course graciously shared with my wife. So we spent most of the week after Cancun recovering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I started attacking my list of things to do. Didn't get nearly as far as I wanted to, but I did get the storage room cleared out and an entire car load of stuff taken to the Salvation Army.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I'm typing this on Anna's macbook because mine is in the shop. :-( The superdrive wouldn't read data CD's so I had to take it in. Advice for anyone who buys a Mac...get the AppleCare!!! It's so nice to get it fixed for "free", but it sucks not having it. I am definitely attached to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably the most important thing during this time is that I was able to de-stress. It is truly amazing to me how low it takes to truly relax and let things go. The challenges of this economy and worrying about job security thankfully melted into the background during these four weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I am going to really like retirement. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I've been back to work for a few days, and I need to remember that my life is in God's hands, and I need to trust Him no matter what.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-7689515523115744686?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/7689515523115744686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/07/end-of-furlough.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/7689515523115744686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/7689515523115744686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/07/end-of-furlough.html' title='End of Furlough'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-4713335731861017167</id><published>2009-06-29T19:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T20:09:48.647-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday</title><content type='html'>I need another Margarita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm right now right at that happy stage...tired, but feeling pretty good. This is a Mexican all-inclusive, but they are playing Michael Buble in the bar here. "Sway with me..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I did work out this morning. My wife kicked me out of bed and told me to go work on "bringing sexy back". Just kidding, she's too sweet for that, but she did get me motivated and I lifted and did elliptical. Plus, we got to play some beach volleyball in the afternoon. Boy, didn't realize what hard work that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah for Anna...she just brought me a lime margarita on the rocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip to Chichen Itza yesterday was awesome. Anna had always wanted to go see some ruins, and we did. I am in complete awe at the mathematical precision of the observatory and the temple. Small details, like the number of stairs, the number of sunken panels...the temple was literally their calendar. How did they figure all of that out? Would I be able to if I were alive back then? Could I have built a building that formed the body of a snake in shadows at the exact time of the solstices? With all of our technology, are we really that much smarter, or do we just think we are? Here's a question that bothers me...what worth would I be on an desert island? Seriously? How much knowledge to I have stored, what could I build, what would I remember...and what would I have forgotten?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lol, you are probably wondering how much the Margarita's have affected me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One interesting, yet sad thing, that I noticed was the inherent bias that our tour guide had against Christianity. Now, 75%-80% of Mayan descendants are now Catholics, but I get the feeling that they are still more loyal to their original Mayan religion than Catholicism. Well, there is a very good reason for that. The Franciscan Missionaries who were the first Christians the Mayans came in contact with, destroyed the Mayan's early writing and therefore, much of their history. They tore down some of the buildings, and used the stones, including the snake stones that the Mayans worshiped, in the construction of their churches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That spoke volumes to me. Here, nearly a millennia later, a culture is still biased against Christians because they attempted to "Christianize" them rather than see what Jesus would look like in their cultural context. Mind you, I am not advocating integrating a culture's religion in with Christianity; polytheism and Christianity can never be one and the same. But, to destroy a culture, their writings, their history in the name of Jesus does not seem correct to me, especially still seeing the fruits of that poor decision so many years later. Not to say the Franciscan's were terrible people, but we should be able to learn from their mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Totally off subject, just throwing this in to make Anna wonder, but I think I know the perfect Christmas gift for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And speaking of, I should probably go push her around the dance floor to this music. Or take her upstairs and rub Aloe Vera on her back...she thinks she doesn't need sun-tan lotion here. Today it bit her in the ass. Or, more appropriately, in the shoulders and back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-4713335731861017167?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/4713335731861017167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/06/monday.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/4713335731861017167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/4713335731861017167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/06/monday.html' title='Monday'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-8894862501954593165</id><published>2009-06-27T20:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T20:17:41.021-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday</title><content type='html'>So, we are here in Cancun...and I am TIRED. The last 2 days have been great, just trying to relax. Yesterday was perfect for swimming, and yes, of course, I got burnt. See facebook for pics. :-) The story behind that is we thought we would be smart and only take carry-on luggage. Actually t worked out very well, except for one tiny detail. You have to have everything in small clear plastic containers...including suntan lotion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we brought plenty of sunscreen, but yesterday I thought I was applying 70 SPF...when actually it was 30 SPF. So yeah, I'm a nice lobster today. I've had lots worse though, this honestly isn't too bad. I can still wear a shirt comfortably. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today it rained, so we had some bigger waves and I really wanted a boogie board to go ride them but they wouldn't give me one, rats. Oh well, probably for the best since the undertow was pretty strong. Hope it isn't raining tomorrow, we are supposed to go touring some ruins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went shopping yesterday too, that's a trip...everyone lies and tries to get you to buy their stuff. Needed a beach bag and ended up paying $20 USD, about $240 pesos. The guy started out wanting $400 pesos. I still think I could have done better, but I am not the world's best bargainer. It's still fun though. :-) Everyone who comes down here will certainly get a lesson in learning "No". Jim Carrey would go broke in a New York minute down here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hardest part for me is trying to de-stress. I am finding that you get in the "mode of stress" and even on vacation you can find things to stress about. Even though they are small, I find myself blowing them out of proportion and worrying entirely too much. I think I need to just sit for a while, no conversation, no books, no tv, and just stare at the ocean and or the stars..."finding my center" sounds so new age, but there is something to it that connects to "Be still and know that I am God" that resonates in all humans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far I have done pretty well in food choices, and not going back for seconds. I am allowing myself some dessert, but by no means more than half a serving. The drinks are nice though and kind of serve as my dessert. :-) The red wine is super strong (had that with my New York Strip tonight) but after a few glasses doesn't seem too bad. :-P Actually haven't worked out yet...but I have been keeping busy and active, that is for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I am sitting in the bar listening to the music...it's a girl on the radio singing "YMCA". It's cracking me up...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-8894862501954593165?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/8894862501954593165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/06/saturday.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/8894862501954593165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/8894862501954593165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/06/saturday.html' title='Saturday'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-5667107666054579168</id><published>2009-06-24T09:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T10:12:22.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Three</title><content type='html'>Results from yesterday: Weights (core) 45 minutes, Bike 4 miles, Treadmill 3 miles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also happy to report that I am noticing a difference, even after just 2 1/2 days. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I have a HUGE roadblock in front of me...leaving for vacation to Cancun and going to an all-inclusive resort. Yeah, all you can eat free food, free beer, free margaritas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They do have a workout facility there and I plan on making daily use of it, as well as making healthy food choices while I'm there. Lots of fish, lean meats, veggies, and fruits. Wish I could take my protein powder with me. :-(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see, projects yesterday. Cleaning up the house for the trip (love coming home to a clean house...so refreshing), trimmed Kelso's nails and gave him his tick/flea treatment, laundry, and dinner. Yum, grilled salmon and steamed broccoli. Oh, and I got a new entertainment rack for the basement so I can organize my audio/visual equipment better. It was on sale for $30, originally $99. Will have to wait until after the trip to put it all together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I do not know how my wife keeps up with everything AND have a part time job. Taking care of a house and the dog and keeping up with laundry, cleaning, and dishes...holy cow!!! I will no longer silently complain when I come home and there are dishes in the sink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pain. Working through pain right now...gosh, I've never been so sore it's woken me up several times at night before. Bleh. Hope that won't last long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I have a ton to do today, and class tonight. I'm not going to have time to work out after class tonight, so mowing the lawn today will have to suffice for my cardio workout.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-5667107666054579168?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/5667107666054579168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-three.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/5667107666054579168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/5667107666054579168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-three.html' title='Day Three'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-1098122386536884663</id><published>2009-06-23T10:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T11:17:10.445-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Two</title><content type='html'>Results from Yesterday: Elliptical 3.5 miles, Bike 4 miles, lift weights 45 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For projects, yesterday's big one that I didn't think would consume most of the day was Kelso. I figured he needed a haircut. Here he is before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/SkD4u720icI/AAAAAAAAABA/xJjeb3_jmIg/s1600-h/DSCN2861.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/SkD4u720icI/AAAAAAAAABA/xJjeb3_jmIg/s320/DSCN2861.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350549842541447618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/SkD4uhKpBxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/WYJb-t2V3-c/s1600-h/DSCN2859.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/SkD4uhKpBxI/AAAAAAAAAA4/WYJb-t2V3-c/s320/DSCN2859.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350549835376822034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here he is in the middle...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/SkD7fpvn1OI/AAAAAAAAABY/5hHhW9QBttA/s1600-h/DSCN2869.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/SkD7fpvn1OI/AAAAAAAAABY/5hHhW9QBttA/s320/DSCN2869.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350552878516262114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here he is after. He went from being a West Highland Terrier to being an Albino Jack Russel Terrier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/SkD7gHQUCpI/AAAAAAAAABo/Ee2KC1yWjT0/s1600-h/DSCN2876.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/SkD7gHQUCpI/AAAAAAAAABo/Ee2KC1yWjT0/s320/DSCN2876.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350552886438005394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/SkD-3Eq36vI/AAAAAAAAAB4/LthZB1WurnE/s1600-h/DSCN2872.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/SkD-3Eq36vI/AAAAAAAAAB4/LthZB1WurnE/s320/DSCN2872.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350556579415976690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went for a walk in the evening and met up with Lindsay and her black lab. Kelso was so excited to see Finley...he actually followed him into the water, twice!! And by follow, I mean jump off the ledge and start swimming to the middle of the pond. So, he got another bath at the very end of yesterday so he didn't smell like pond scum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-1098122386536884663?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/1098122386536884663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-two.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/1098122386536884663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/1098122386536884663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-two.html' title='Day Two'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/SkD4u720icI/AAAAAAAAABA/xJjeb3_jmIg/s72-c/DSCN2861.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415500027308008739.post-1809452335629731737</id><published>2009-06-22T09:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T09:49:13.591-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First Post (Duh, that's retarded)</title><content type='html'>I am fat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, not like super fat, but I've got some of that spare tire stuff going on, and I want to get rid of it. I can blame it on school and work and the associated stress of not knowing from month-to-month if I will have a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I do have a job, but I'm furloughed. Basically, I get four weeks off unpaid (I haven't been there long enough to have vacation to cover it) but the great state of Kansas is going to help me through this time. Speaking of which, does everyone realize that unemployment benefits are considered taxable income? WTC!?!!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the fat. Gotta work on that. That's one of my goals during my break. I'm going to try two-a-day workouts, eating uber-healthy, and getting enough sleep for a change. I also have sundry projects that I want to work on, and I want to have devotions every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goals. Need them or I will come to the end of four weeks and look back and wonder what the heck I did for two weeks. Thus the purpose of this blog, to catalog my activities and keep track of my progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fitness Goal: Lose 10 pounds by July 20th. Bench more than 175 lbs. Lose inches off my waist (not sure what a reasonable goal there is but I want my pants to fit comfortably again.)&lt;br /&gt;Starting Measurements: Weight, 179.2 lbs. Waist, 37 in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spiritual Goal: Memorize Psalm 18. I love that Psalm because it talks all about how we can do the impossible with God's help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for now. I'm going to start tackling my list.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7415500027308008739-1809452335629731737?l=flierbrown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/feeds/1809452335629731737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/06/june-22-2009.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/1809452335629731737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7415500027308008739/posts/default/1809452335629731737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://flierbrown.blogspot.com/2009/06/june-22-2009.html' title='First Post (Duh, that&apos;s retarded)'/><author><name>Richard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00686284537213317846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8rKwKz2TSk/Sj-bnghIc7I/AAAAAAAAAAY/fvsEIKwDyOI/S220/RichardBike.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
