<?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-33846086</id><updated>2011-08-09T11:25:26.186-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Chronicle of a Middle Child</title><subtitle type='html'>This Could Get Dangerous</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-7580534388603897735</id><published>2007-04-08T20:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-08T20:57:51.633-05:00</updated><title type='text'>For My Writing Pleasure</title><content type='html'>So I'm writing whatever comes to mind in this post here. I've never done that on here before, but it's one of my favorite ways to write. It makes for random comments and shows you a little bit of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bazaar&lt;/span&gt; thought pattern. Or, rather, lack of a thought pattern. We went to church today. Both services were very excellent. My cousins came just for the day. We had a grand old time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;playin&lt;/span&gt;' games, chatting, and in my case, trying not to fall asleep on my lunch. I did &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;purty&lt;/span&gt; good and didn't drown in my soup. It's a good thing we weren't having soup anyway. When we have a big family meal at Grandma's I tend to wait and have my dessert as my supper. I do that for two reasons. Number one is because I'm normally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;purty&lt;/span&gt; full after lunch, and number two because I normally don't have supper on Sunday nights. Normally I have have a small bite of something before church and another small bite of something after church. Today I had pumpkin pie for before church supper and then for second supper I had some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;cinnamon&lt;/span&gt; toast. Actually, I think I'll end up having more than that because my tummy is kinda telling me that it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;wants&lt;/span&gt; more in it. We'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyes are real tired, and I feel like I couldn't smile if I wanted to. Not that I'm sad or mad, it's just that that would require the use of muscles. You'd think that I would always be warmed up for such events. I guess I need to learn to do some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;stretching&lt;/span&gt; before times when I know I'll &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;smile&lt;/span&gt; and laugh a lot. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;---ow, that one hurt. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hands are getting dry, I should put some lotion on. But I tell you that it would be hard right now because I would have to stop typing and that is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;against&lt;/span&gt; the rules in this game. See, I have to type even when I can't think of anything to type. So if things start making less sense than they already are, you'll know what. So I'm starting to get to that point were I'm thinking too much about what I'm going to write. That makes it hard to actually come up with something worth not only writing, but reading. Oops, just about stopped there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little cousin Ethan was at my Grandma's today. That kid...boy oh boy. He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;purty&lt;/span&gt; much thought he owned the place. And he decided that I was no longer his cousin. See here, I didn't know that that was all it took. A almost four year old to just say it. I guess it's official now. I'm surprised there wasn't more paper work involved there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I am just writing this for my pleasure and since no one is required nor expected to read all this, I'm just going to keep going here. Actually, I'm not because I'm getting called into the other room. I think I won the game!!! :) :) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-7580534388603897735?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/7580534388603897735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=7580534388603897735' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/7580534388603897735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/7580534388603897735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2007/04/for-my-writing-pleasure.html' title='For My Writing Pleasure'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-8724228778075271371</id><published>2007-02-26T22:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T22:18:44.943-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Events Having To do with Ice</title><content type='html'>On Saturday there was the huge ice storm. I was at work around 8:15am and that was before it started. Things were getting worser* and different people were coming in and saying that we were one of the few buildings left in the area that still had power. The lights were flickering now and again, and we suspected that we would soon lose power too. The first thing to go was the heater. I didn't realize how loud that thing is until it turned off. Before you didn't really have to be quiet in the library, but when it was off you could have heard a pin drop (except of course the fact that you can't really hear a pin drop on carpet and why would you drop something that might get stepped on and hurt the person who did the stepping anyway) Anyhoo, at that point the upper boss people decided to close early; by that time it was about 2:45 pm. We got everyone out of the building and 15 min later we lost power completely. The library is kinda creepy in the dark. But we made it out and I was able to get my car scraped off. Since I live 25 min out of town I made my way to my aunt's house which is about 7 min away on good days. It took about 15 min to get there this time. I had to dodge downed branches and trees. I had to make amazing stops at street light that were dead. You would have been very impressed. Oh, plus I had a cop following me for a good part of my journey. Well, I made it to the dark and getting colder house in one piece and ended up spending the night. It was a very enjoyable evening, scented candles, thick blankets, ice cream...best eaten when it's cold outside.&lt;br /&gt;       On Sunday morning I slept through my aunt and a friend of hers going in and out the door right near my head (I was on the couch in the living room). When I finally did wake up, I ate a bowl of cereal and headed home (after my aunt made sure I was really truly awake). I headed home because the ice had melted off the roads and they were just wet. It was, however, snowing on my way home, but it was nothing to panic about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'm using that non-word because I feel like it. It doesn't detract from the meaning of my story, so it stays!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-8724228778075271371?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/8724228778075271371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=8724228778075271371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/8724228778075271371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/8724228778075271371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2007/02/events-having-to-do-with-ice.html' title='Events Having To do with Ice'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-8182711417342568086</id><published>2007-01-25T21:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T22:27:45.425-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Those Summer Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Woohoo&lt;/span&gt;! We went sledding today. Some friends of ours have this amazing hill, so we try to keep on their good side at all times ;) Actually, we were there for world view studies. But when the book work was done and thrown out the window we wrapped up on our winter-wear and prepared for an adventure. My appearance had improved from last times sports pants, cowboy boots, and corduroy coat. This time I had my black coat and boots and jeans on, so you can rest at ease. Anyway, so we arrive at the top of this hill. Really the hill is the whole front yard. The center of the front yard is the bottom of the hill that encircles a huge tree. Having a tree at the bottom makes things just plain exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We chose to start from the driveway. They had installed their own ramp half way down the slope. At first, I opted to avoid that extra bit of air. But the hill wouldn't have it that way. About my third time down, I realized my sled was headed toward that little ramp--but from an angle. I bailed. After I shook the snow out of my shirt, I firmly decided that I should just get if over with because I knew I was going to do it eventually. So I wrote my will and said a teary goodbye on my parent's answering machine. Then I tightened my boots and placed myself in the red sled (I thought it would be better if I used a sled that was already red--don't want to ruin someone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt; sled). I inched forward, I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;purty&lt;/span&gt; sure my life was in slow motion there for a sec, but that could have been because I was on gravel and sleds don't go very fast on gravel. Once I got past the gravel, I began my swift descent toward a sure &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;destructive&lt;/span&gt; end. I should pause to tell you that I was wearing my new scarf and hat, so I was feeling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;purty&lt;/span&gt; super--but you should know that that has nothing to do with the story and I'm only putting that info in there because it adds to the drama because you are probably wanting me to get on with my tale. Well, guess what, I might not finish. How would you like that? We're getting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;purty&lt;/span&gt; far off subject here and here's where the choose your own adventure comes in. If you want to hear what happened read the section marked "A". If you don't care and you think that this story is dumb and that you would rather waste your time elsewhere read the part marked "B". Thank you for playing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A) I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;purty&lt;/span&gt; sure my mouth was open because it ended up full of dirty snow. Let me tell you how that happened. About three feet from the ramp I started screaming. But NO! I wouldn't bail again! The tip of the sled started up the ramp, the middle and then the back! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Purty&lt;/span&gt; soon I didn't have anything under me, except that red sled. And little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt;' me decides to let go of that. *slaps &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;forehead&lt;/span&gt;* Now that my sled wasn't below me, I was just excepting the inevitable pain that would come next. However, just beyond the shoot there was a pile of fall's leaves covered in snow. My knees were soon plowing through those leaves--let me tell you they didn't smell so hot. The snow that was being flung back at my face was going &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;straight&lt;/span&gt; into my mouth. Icky! When I finally came to a stop, I heard only silence. No, that wasn't silence that was the distinct sound of laughter. And it was mine. You know, it's hard to laugh with dirty snow in your mouth! I tried that ramp several times more. I finally got the hang of not letting go of that sled. Then then then!!! Mister came home from work and he pulled us around on the huge innertube with the fourwheeler. IT WAS GREATNESS!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B) Well, your lose I guess. You go continue your life, forever &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;subconsciously&lt;/span&gt; wondering what happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La la la la la la la la la la....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-8182711417342568086?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/8182711417342568086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=8182711417342568086' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/8182711417342568086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/8182711417342568086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2007/01/those-summer-days.html' title='Those Summer Days'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-803285932610158668</id><published>2007-01-06T20:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-06T20:38:15.091-06:00</updated><title type='text'>This Here Title Has Nothing To Do With The Entry Below</title><content type='html'>When one is really tired, one should not be the first to pray during family worship. Not only will one miss the rest of the prayers, but one's family will talk about one while one is sleeping. And when one wakes up, one will feel really embarrassed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just plain worn out. Some of you know some reasons that contribute to this fatigue. For those of you that don't, all I can say now is that it involves some shoulders, a helicopter, a tall stranger of a male, a question, and a rejection. Wow, I could write the backs of novels!! Or a Lemony Snicket book (so sad). Also, a contributing factor could be working twelve extra hours this week, but that's not even worth mentioning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight is my last night of vacation, I'm going to enjoy it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-803285932610158668?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/803285932610158668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=803285932610158668' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/803285932610158668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/803285932610158668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2007/01/this-here-title-has-nothing-to-do-with.html' title='This Here Title Has Nothing To Do With The Entry Below'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-9039704097231971177</id><published>2006-12-12T11:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-12T13:00:48.418-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Important Information (or aye aye!)</title><content type='html'>I shall now attempt to inform you of my excitings.&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I had my first driving experience in the snowing snow. It was pretty easy in town, and it stayed that way for about two miles out of town. But right when I got past the last lane of a friend's house (my last chance for a safe place), the car in front of me disappeared. Now I don't mean to imply that they ceased to exist, they were just suddenly out of my line of sight. Naturally, I wasn't comfortable with that, so my eyes scanned for possible escape options. You know those blue signs that have people's house number things on them. Maybe those are only in the country, I don't know, but anyway, through the swirling snow I glimpsed a blue sign. I pulled into that drive and turned around. I then made my way to my friend's house. They weren't home! Thankfully I had got a call from Miss Mona (yes, this is the same family that we pranked) had called me earlier so I knew that she didn't have her cell phone and that she had her son's. So I called and she was on her way home, so I wasn't all alone. I put on a brave face when they got there, but they knew I had been crying. However, the night ended up being pretty fun. I got hot chocolate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, we went sledding two days ago! After church we had a quick lunch and then went to the say afor mentioned friends to go with them to a farewell party for some other friends. We didn't plan on staying there long, but ended up staying the whole time. When we finally got back to their house we put on different shoes (some people might call them boots) and bundled up a bit (it wasn't really that cold) and we hiked out to their sledding hill. Let me tell you, it's a good hill. I couldn't be steeper, but who am I to complain. We tried races and standing up! And the dog only got in the way twice--poor guy. He was so delirious with all the fun. We went back in after dark so that makes it a little after five. Then while our jeans dried in the dryer we put on nice pj pants and ate pizza and had cocoa. Unfortunately, that snow is pretty much melted now. I can't wait for the next round!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toe nail color update: Red. I gots to keep up with the season and green would look like mold or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There now you have read nearly every detail of two stories without much detail. I hope you enjoyed this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-9039704097231971177?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/9039704097231971177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=9039704097231971177' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/9039704097231971177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/9039704097231971177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2006/12/important-information-or-aye-aye.html' title='Important Information (or aye aye!)'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-322912245264150434</id><published>2006-12-05T21:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T22:00:16.864-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Food Experiments</title><content type='html'>Right now I am eating leftover spaghetti with shredded cheddar cheese on it. It is SO good! I recommend it. However, I don't have any measurements for you. You know, ratios and the like, so I will have to leave it up to your judgement. I say that because I know that you will try it now that I've told you about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a little bit I shall have dessert: Cool Whip. All by itself. I know, you're all jealous. I would share, but you know me and Cool Whip. And if you don't, look out, I know how to run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should tell you now that milk is the ideal drink to drink with cookies. You probably haven't heard of doing that before so, out of the kindness of my heart, I share this new discovery with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corn chips on turkey sandwiches. Yum! Cheese Doritos are the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cinnamon sugar toast for breakfast. It's what I have for most breakfasts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that concludes my ramblings for now. Fear not, I shall return to give more insight into my world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and when in doubt at a restaurant order the chicken strips. Every place has them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-322912245264150434?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/322912245264150434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=322912245264150434' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/322912245264150434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/322912245264150434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2006/12/food-experiments.html' title='Food Experiments'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-7959821838938217012</id><published>2006-12-02T21:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-02T21:48:42.140-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, I have a cell phone</title><content type='html'>Now you may think that I am going to use this post to tell you all about the cell phone that my parents gave me as an early &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt; present, but you're wrong, I'm not even going to talk about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall now talk about the important things going on. We have moved into the new library building and people are already treating it poorly. It makes me somewhat upset and not a little confused, but people will remain people. Big surprise there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, I would like to address the fact that there is snow on the ground. In saying this, I mean that is snowed the other day and it hasn't melted yet. This is my first experience with snow. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, not so, but it is my first experience with driving on snow. I can't say that anything has different has happened. I also desire to go sledding. I haven't done that in far too long. I must need &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;remedy&lt;/span&gt; that this season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;conclusion&lt;/span&gt;, I would like to thank you all for coming and sharing this happy event with me. I can't think of better people I would want to remember being here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-7959821838938217012?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/7959821838938217012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=7959821838938217012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/7959821838938217012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/7959821838938217012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2006/12/yes-i-have-cell-phone.html' title='Yes, I have a cell phone'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-3333190468466586193</id><published>2006-10-07T21:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-07T21:15:27.748-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yay!</title><content type='html'>Hats off to the person who invented high, swishing pony tails :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-3333190468466586193?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/3333190468466586193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=3333190468466586193' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/3333190468466586193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/3333190468466586193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2006/10/yay.html' title='Yay!'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-586226474668971112</id><published>2006-10-05T21:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-05T21:34:38.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Worthless Post</title><content type='html'>Here are a few random things that I have been doing:&lt;br /&gt;1) Corning my friends houses.&lt;br /&gt;2) Struggling through Algebra 1.&lt;br /&gt;3) Not posting on my blog.&lt;br /&gt;4) Joining Facebook&lt;br /&gt;5) Posting this just because Joel is making me.&lt;br /&gt;6) Playing touch football at the park.&lt;br /&gt;7) Working very hard at the library (I got blisters. A word of advice, don't wear flip-flops at a job where you have to walk alot)&lt;br /&gt;8) Organising my scrap booking stuff.&lt;br /&gt;9) Closing my research paper without saving it!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;10) Jumping 4 Fun :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that you've learned all that about me, you can go about your regular lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-586226474668971112?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/586226474668971112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=586226474668971112' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/586226474668971112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/586226474668971112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2006/10/worthless-post.html' title='A Worthless Post'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-4845912790817676720</id><published>2006-09-22T18:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-22T19:20:01.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spelunking</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;What is it about facing fears that makes you feel stronger?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we went spelunking at a local cave. As some of you know, I am pretty claustrophobic. We have been to this cave many times and I have normally waited outside. Mister helped me go in two times before; I would get a little further every time. This time I made it to the back! TA went with me, and talked me through the several stops I made in order to turn back. I couldn't have made it that far without him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mister was talking to me before I went in and he reminded me that my fears were all mental. It is phenomenal what I could do when I gave those fears to the Lord. Granted, there was still that feeling of...well, that anxiety over being closed in. That physical tenseness was eased with my trusted friend near.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends clapped when I made it out...I love them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How come having friends who believe you can do it make you believe that you can do it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-4845912790817676720?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/4845912790817676720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=4845912790817676720' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/4845912790817676720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/4845912790817676720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2006/09/spelunking.html' title='Spelunking'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-115879877434719795</id><published>2006-09-20T18:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-20T19:49:43.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Success</title><content type='html'>Pranks properly carried out result in resounding success (and laughs).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The morning of the 18th dawned with extreme normality. So I will not venture to explain the morning further. I fear I would bore you before I even begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The afternoon of the 18th was a bit out of the ordinary as my sister and I went to B-- to pick up a friend in order to have a girls afternoon/evening/night out. We had a rough draft of our plans mapped out in our heads and we were soon off to the mall. Our main purpose for going on a Monday afternoon was that there wouldn't be anyone else around. This was very true. We were pretty much the only ones about the place. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Frivolous "shopping" came first and we tried on some fun prom-type dresses and laughed at how girls wore them with all seriousness (how they pull straight faces while wearing the things I'll never know). Then went about our serious shopping and in that was the first success of the day. We all found something we liked! At the same store! I got a dress and some suspenders. EP got a lovely skirt for an even lovelier price. SG got a sweet black jacket and red shoe laces for her Chucks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;On our way out of Penney's we walked by the mall theater. Seeing a movie we thought we might like to see, we looked at times. The next showing was in half an hour. We then discussed whether or not to call JW and get him to buy us spray paint. I finally just said that we should just go find out for sure whether there was an age limit on buying the stuff. We went and I went in alone (we thought it would look a little less suspicious if just one giggling girl went in as opposed to three). There is no age limit on who can buy spray paint (I hope you're all taking notes).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We then buzzed back to the theater, got our tickets, and watched the movie. Not much to report in that department, except right when the credits started rolling I got a phone call. I thought that was a perfect example of good timing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;**Time passed**&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;**I got very hungry**&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;**SG and EP decided they wanted to eat at Subway**&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When we finished eating it was still growing dark. Not dark enough to pull this prank. We went to the library to change into all our dark clothes. By the time we got back across town it was dark enough.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As you well know, we couldn't just drive up and park at the A's house without their notice. So we parked at their neighbor's house. EP and I went up and knocked asking if we could park here while we pulled a prank on their neighbor--I feel I should interrupt myself for a moment here and explain that we knew these people before hand and it was fully ok with them that we prank the A's.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;At this point we put on our grease paint. Then, with hoods up, we crept towards the A's house with all the proper technique of a blind hippo. To our advantage, the tv was on quite loud. They didn't hear a bit of our blundering about. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Out came the neon pink spray paint. Literally, all over the grass. We wrote all kinds of little things on both the front and back lawns. Then we shaving creamed Mister's truck windows. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now, this is where it gets exciting. The house is somewhat on a hill which makes the garage roof low enough to climb up on. This is what we did. There are three windows that look out over the garage. Two are bedrooms and the third is the bathroom. Earlier that day we had picked SG up from their house and while she was there she had unlocked the bathroom window and opened the screen enough for a small finger to slip under. We opened both screen and window (by the way, there was no one in the bathroom and the lights were off). It was too much of a jump to get up and into the small window on our own legs so we used one of their own chairs from inside the garage. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;With some difficulty we made it into the bathroom. There we stood giggles getting louder and louder (yes, JW you were right :). We wanted to come out of the bathroom and ask something like, "Where do you keep your extra toilet paper?" but we couldn't so much as say, "boo"! So we ended up just screaming while we ran down the short flight of stairs to the living room. Mister just stared at us and [he told us later] tried to remember if we had been there the whole time. TA didn't even turn around from the computer, but I was so excited about just pulling it all off that it didn't matter so much.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I must have been extremely giddy because I laughed and bounced all over the place. They loved the grease paint.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am still riding on that thrill high.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-115879877434719795?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/115879877434719795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=115879877434719795' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115879877434719795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115879877434719795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2006/09/success.html' title='Success'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-115828523736698767</id><published>2006-09-14T20:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-14T20:56:07.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pink: What I Didn't Know About It</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I painted my toe nails a bright, almost Barbie, pink the other night. I couldn't believe it when it made me giggle in the morning. Telling my sister to "Look at my toes!" was the first thing I said to her that morning. Since I don't normally paint them pink, every time I saw them today I smiled and got all silly. It is a complete mystery as to why it makes me feel like that. *befuddled* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Saturday is the air show. I'm very excited! Last year a remarkable show was displayed and I hope to see it's equal or better this year. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Here is a link to a funny site: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.homestarrunner.com"&gt;www.homestarrunner.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Here is one to a completely pointless site: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.iloveegg.com/index.htm"&gt;www.iloveegg.com/index.htm&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;(If you go there, you'll have to click the "English" button)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Here is a great radio station: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://radioy.com"&gt;http://radioy.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Since the color of my toe nails has made me happy I have decided to share the joy and use this nice pink font :) Be happy everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-115828523736698767?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/115828523736698767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=115828523736698767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115828523736698767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115828523736698767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2006/09/pink-what-i-didnt-know-about-it.html' title='Pink: What I Didn&apos;t Know About It'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-115802842702996222</id><published>2006-09-11T21:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T21:33:47.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What I learned today</title><content type='html'>I learned something very interesting today. Tomato horn worms don't just eat tomato plants. We have some lovely flowers that only bloom at night (not surprisingly, they are called Moon Flowers). THWs like them too. Mom and I found 6 or so of those fat, tender little bugs on those plants and we smashed them. Well, Mom did the smashing, I did the pointing out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a really cool animal paw today while I was mowing! Mom thinks it belonged to an opossum. It still has the skin on it! I also found half of it's jaw bone. When I told Dad I had found a paw, he asked how I knew it wasn't a ma ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a more serious note, today is the 5th year after the 9/11 attacks on America. I heard a nice tribute song on the radio today and it really struck me how many people were affected by that event. I was 12 when they happened and I didn't fully grasp it (I guess not many truly did). Because I was so young I honestly didn't give it much thought. Now that I'm a bit older it's more devastating than my young mind thought. So &lt;em&gt;many&lt;/em&gt; people...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-115802842702996222?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/115802842702996222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=115802842702996222' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115802842702996222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115802842702996222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-i-learned-today.html' title='What I learned today'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-115785669852152815</id><published>2006-09-09T21:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T22:06:56.516-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Picnics and People</title><content type='html'>Tonight was the church Sunday School picnic. We played a game called Corn Hole or something like that. You would try to throw a bean bag through a hole. It was two teams verses each other. JW and I won one out of the four games I played. I was with my sister for the first two--we were smashed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to work today was was able to tell my co-worker that I am a Christian. It was interesting. She didn't really respond. It was more like just another religion to her. I'm trying to live my life like Jesus would. And now that I've told her I'm a Christian I need to watch my actions more closely. Prayers for this selfish brat would be welcome (meaning myself).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd better take a look at the Psalms for tomorrow. My aunt thinks I should lead the singing tomorrow. That is still up in the air. Far up there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-115785669852152815?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/115785669852152815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=115785669852152815' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115785669852152815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115785669852152815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2006/09/picnics-and-people.html' title='Picnics and People'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-115776880054483171</id><published>2006-09-08T21:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T21:26:40.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing</title><content type='html'>Since nothing exciting has happened to me in a few days, I recommend Lyn's blog. Something quite interesting happened to him and a few others...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-115776880054483171?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/115776880054483171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=115776880054483171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115776880054483171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115776880054483171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2006/09/nothing.html' title='Nothing'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-115757254868255333</id><published>2006-09-06T14:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T14:55:48.683-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Brother</title><content type='html'>For those of you that know my brother, these next few quotes will be funny. However, for those of you who don't know him I have only one thing to say, I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Today's belts have more metal then belt."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm like an emotional rock, nothing you can say will hurt me, but I will stub your toe."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this one is my favorite!&lt;br /&gt;Dan (with agitation): Whose bread popped [in the toaster]? Hello, whose bread is this?&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Whoever left it in there from lunch.&lt;br /&gt;Dan: *grins sheepishly*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister came up with a great one the other day, and those who know her realize that she really didn't mean to say it this way...But the result is classic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There's too much money infested in these computers!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-115757254868255333?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/115757254868255333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=115757254868255333' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115757254868255333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115757254868255333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-brother.html' title='My Brother'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-115750744728573957</id><published>2006-09-05T20:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T21:42:50.703-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What A Day!</title><content type='html'>This morning at 3am I woke up with a sore throat. This made me quite distressed because there was much to do today. In search of some relief I found a throat lozenge and was able to go back to sleep. At 6:45am I awoke for good (well, for today at least). I was somewhat improved so I showered and got ready to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the first day of CBS (Community Bible Study). There are 10 people in my group. Since it was the first day, we didn't really have a real meeting and spent time getting to know everyone. We were paired up to do interviews. I was paired with one of my best friends and we were able to pretty much fill out eachothers. Perhaps we should have spoken up and told them that we already knew eachother...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I work at our local library. Today I was scheduled to work, so I decided it would be best for me to come in. I have nothing to report on today, but I just thought I would get that info out of the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was driving home from work this dark night and my mind was really wandering. Suddenly it hit me (I think this would be a good time to pause and tell you that it wasn't a car, a person, or a toad that hit me), I was the only one heading...er...um...the direction I was headed! There were plenty of on coming cars. All these circumstances caused me to wonder if everyone was fleeing the city! I'm not sure how to end this tale, I could say, "but there was nothing wrong and we all lived happily ever after" or I could say, "As I passed through the smoking piles of rubble that were once the buildings of my hometown, my numb mind wondered what we would have had for supper tomorrow night." However, the latter is not very true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still figuring this blog thing out it's really rather hard for me. I tried to post on someone else's page and it wouldn't let me :( I'll have to look into that...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-115750744728573957?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/115750744728573957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=115750744728573957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115750744728573957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115750744728573957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-day.html' title='What A Day!'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33846086.post-115738219811619608</id><published>2006-09-04T09:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T10:04:22.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Here I Come...I guess</title><content type='html'>I was thinking about how profound I would like to make my first post but everything of consequence has already been said. So I shall just have to quote something: &lt;em&gt;"Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord, my rock and my Redeemer."&lt;/em&gt; ~Psalm 19:14&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see how things go from here :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33846086-115738219811619608?l=the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/feeds/115738219811619608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33846086&amp;postID=115738219811619608' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115738219811619608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33846086/posts/default/115738219811619608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-chronicle-of-a-middle-child.blogspot.com/2006/09/here-i-comei-guess.html' title='Here I Come...I guess'/><author><name>~molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17868358344918630441</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/344/3721/1600/1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
