<?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-372356485006377003</id><updated>2012-02-16T07:00:33.153-05:00</updated><category term='Life'/><category term='Elevators'/><category term='Toilet'/><category term='mishaps'/><category term='dress'/><category term='wedding'/><title type='text'>Flip flop girl in a high heel world...</title><subtitle type='html'>Things that annoy me, amaze me, irritate me, uplift me, mesmorize me and just plain interest me.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/372356485006377003/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14708920483070983588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-372356485006377003.post-2787173663239165399</id><published>2009-06-11T13:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T13:21:54.679-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Potty Breaks...</title><content type='html'>So C0lby and I have started a weight loss competition in our house.  Along with that comes drinking water...I feel like I drink about an ocean's worth every day.  Along with drinking water comes...PEEING.  Oh...my...goodness.   I feel like it's all I do.  By the time I walk to the bathroom and walk back, I feel like I have to go again.  I have started using alternating bathrooms (one in the front and one in the back) of my office, so the receptionist doesn't start to wonder if I have a little drug problem or something!  I know it's good for me, and I know it helps in losing...but come on!  It's taking over my life...too bad I can't just move my computer in there.  Sorry for the visual.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/372356485006377003-2787173663239165399?l=stephaniechesser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/feeds/2787173663239165399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=372356485006377003&amp;postID=2787173663239165399' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/372356485006377003/posts/default/2787173663239165399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/372356485006377003/posts/default/2787173663239165399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/2009/06/potty-breaks.html' title='Potty Breaks...'/><author><name>Stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14708920483070983588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-372356485006377003.post-8025037956142698601</id><published>2009-03-18T12:56:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T13:06:21.438-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Readin'...</title><content type='html'>Some of the books you'll be finding on my coffee table, should you ever visit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314573758431741522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 209px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jrdRzQy1ce8/ScEorOvvxlI/AAAAAAAAADQ/qIoRThW9z6w/s320/book+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Summary:&lt;/strong&gt; You've got bad news to deliver? Let these super-cute animals do it instead. Just imagine a fuzzy bunny telling someone that dreams don't come true - it literally softens the blow! Perforated postcards make life even easier, allowing you to break the news as non-confrontationally as possible. Made in the USA. Wipe clean.* Authors: Amanda McCall and Ben Schwartz; Publisher: Collins* Soft cover, 88 pages* 7.6"w, 4.7"h&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314574274598857858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 209px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jrdRzQy1ce8/ScEpJRnk7II/AAAAAAAAADY/XVITQSQp7XA/s320/book+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Summary:&lt;/strong&gt; A tell-all tribute that demystifies the digestive tract, once and for all. Complete with trivia, case histories and yes, illustrations.* Authors: Josh Richman &amp;amp; Dr. Anish Sheth, Publisher: Chronicle Books* Hardcover, 96 pages* 6.25"l, 4.75"l&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314574782492769026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 209px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jrdRzQy1ce8/ScEpm1q6-wI/AAAAAAAAADg/QDmDM61dpxc/s320/book+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Summary:&lt;/strong&gt; If your misery wants some company, this book is bound to be your new (super-funny) best friend! A list of everything that can tend to go wrong, rendered in flip-book style - from potholes to overly perky people and the nightly news to the daily grind, this collection of pet peeves is sure to make you smile - if only because it illustrates that somewhere, someone has it worse! Made in the USA. * Author: Jason Kaplan; Publisher: Independent* Soft cover, 128 pages* 5"w, 7.1"h&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And you think I'm kidding...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;**For these and other awesome books like them, visit: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.urbanoutfitters.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;www.urbanoutfitters.com&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;**&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jrdRzQy1ce8/ScEoP-A98OI/AAAAAAAAADA/Y-mhASNVFeA/s1600-h/book+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br 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/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/372356485006377003-8025037956142698601?l=stephaniechesser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/feeds/8025037956142698601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=372356485006377003&amp;postID=8025037956142698601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/372356485006377003/posts/default/8025037956142698601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/372356485006377003/posts/default/8025037956142698601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/2009/03/good-readin.html' title='Good Readin&apos;...'/><author><name>Stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14708920483070983588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jrdRzQy1ce8/ScEorOvvxlI/AAAAAAAAADQ/qIoRThW9z6w/s72-c/book+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-372356485006377003.post-1654298912105661794</id><published>2009-02-27T12:57:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T13:20:07.334-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elevators'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>The awkwardness of an Elevator...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I ride in elevators probably 5-6 times a day when I am at work. It is not something I look forward to (although it beats climbing 11 flights of stairs each way!), but it's one of those things you have to do in life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My question is: When did riding an elevator become so &lt;em&gt;awkward?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;First of all, without fault whenever I am getting in the elevator I see (or hear) someone coming toward the elevator. The dilemna? Do I try to hold the door at the risk of loosing a limb in the closing of the doors? Do I try to find the button that keeps the door open for them but get confused and hit the alarm button on accident because I only have a few seconds of reaction time? Do I act like I don't see/hear them and just let the door shut? CHECK! I'll take option 3, please. The one that's really bad - when I ACT like I am looking for the button but I miss it and the door shuts. As the door is shutting I give them that "awww, man, I SO gave it my best shot for you!" look. I really didn't, but what do they know? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As if the whole "catching" the elevator isn't awkward enough, even worse, is when they MAKE the elevator before the doors shut. If there are more than two people on the elevator, forget it. In an elevator, you can't stand RIGHT next to the person, that's just weird. So everyone usually takes a corner with the lone person standing in the middle. At this point, you try to avoid eye contact with everyone in the elevator because you really have nothing to say to people you don't know. But how many places can you actually look in an elevator? You have the door and the walls...nice. You can scroll through your cell phone as if you are reading something, but generally just looking at the calendar...or your address book. But looking as if that is the most interesting wall you have EVER seen is far better than the next one... No fear, probably once a day I get "that" guy (or gal) who just HAS to say something..."Nice weather out..." (Ummm, it's Florida...), "Is it Friday yet?" (no jerkface, it's TUESDAY which is why I'm not in jeans)...or if you actually work with the person but don't know them that well, you talk about that ONE thing you worked on together...whether it was 6 years ago or yesterday. Weird. As people start getting off, corners start to become clear and that poor person in the middle finally claims his overdue corner. It's just such a weird and awkward situation that takes place in a matter of seconds. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The one nice thing about elevators? Everyone is equal. Executives can park in seperate garages and can have their big corner offices, but when trying to get to said places...they are just the same as the rest of us - crammed into an uncomfortably silent elevator. Ahhh, sweet justice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like this picture below....everyone does it...as if you might miss your floor...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jrdRzQy1ce8/SagujIkW4tI/AAAAAAAAACw/Spqb2gjWJYU/s1600-h/elevator.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307543341986407122" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 201px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jrdRzQy1ce8/SagujIkW4tI/AAAAAAAAACw/Spqb2gjWJYU/s320/elevator.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just food for thought. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/372356485006377003-1654298912105661794?l=stephaniechesser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/feeds/1654298912105661794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=372356485006377003&amp;postID=1654298912105661794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/372356485006377003/posts/default/1654298912105661794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/372356485006377003/posts/default/1654298912105661794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/2009/02/awkwardness-of-elevator.html' title='The awkwardness of an Elevator...'/><author><name>Stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14708920483070983588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jrdRzQy1ce8/SagujIkW4tI/AAAAAAAAACw/Spqb2gjWJYU/s72-c/elevator.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-372356485006377003.post-2195481441539197903</id><published>2009-02-15T23:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T23:40:52.746-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toilet'/><title type='text'>TWODALOO</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In making every effort to please Jeanette, Mona and Jodie - I will try to be a more faithful blogger. Sometimes it may be serious, sometimes it may be funny and sometimes it may just be random...we'll see where this goes! :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I found something interesting online that I wanted to share. Drum roll please...it's the TWODALOO!!!! The twodaloo? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Please see below...(do it without laughing and I'll give you a nickel). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jrdRzQy1ce8/SZjqstnlGqI/AAAAAAAAACA/VpVztldwvNk/s1600-h/TwoDaLoo.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303246615109507746" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jrdRzQy1ce8/SZjqstnlGqI/AAAAAAAAACA/VpVztldwvNk/s320/TwoDaLoo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Who'd have thought something like this could exsist?  The even better part is the description that is given of the "product&lt;em&gt;"....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"The TwoDaLoo is billed as the world's first toilet two people can use ... at the exact same time. It brings couples closer together and conserves our water supply all with one flush. The TwoDaLoo features two side-by-side toilet seats with a modest privacy wall in between. An upgraded version includes a seven inch LCD television and iPod docking station."&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Well you didn't mention it can come equipped with an LCD television and an IPOD docking station.  Sign me up!  No, please don't.  First of all, why someone wants to sit in the bathroom long enough to watch TV is beyond me.  In my opinion, it's a do-your-business-and-get-out-as-soon-as-possible type place.  So TV and IPOD docking station - not really a selling point to me.  The more obvious question still awaits...who wants to use the bathroom with someone else that close by?  Public bathrooms are bad enough...with just a metal stall between you.  But right next to each other?  No thanks.  Other than the occassional lack of toilet paper moment, I don't understand the need or want for this product.   I read in one review they are calling this contraption a "marriage saver".  Are you kidding me?  Can you imagine the next fad in marriage counseling is to suggest a Twodaloo?  Or the infomercial that would follow?  "My marriage was all but over...until we got the Twodaloo!  Now are closer than ever and don't have to spend a single second away from each other."  Just crazy.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;No thanks, Twodaloo...I think I'll be a Onedaloo girl for now.&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/372356485006377003-2195481441539197903?l=stephaniechesser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/feeds/2195481441539197903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=372356485006377003&amp;postID=2195481441539197903' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/372356485006377003/posts/default/2195481441539197903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/372356485006377003/posts/default/2195481441539197903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/2009/02/twodaloo.html' title='TWODALOO'/><author><name>Stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14708920483070983588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jrdRzQy1ce8/SZjqstnlGqI/AAAAAAAAACA/VpVztldwvNk/s72-c/TwoDaLoo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-372356485006377003.post-2159976863853095202</id><published>2008-10-28T15:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T15:22:01.821-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How NOT to dial the wrong number...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;So I am sitting at work the other day, when a "561" number pops up on my cell phone.  That's my home area code, so I figured it was someone I knew.  I let it go to voicemail (being the good lil' employee that I am!) and then checked my voicemail once it popped up (good lil' employee, right out the window!).  Here is what the voicemail said...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;(In a shakey grandma voice)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;"Herb, it's Ellen.  John died this morning.  I'll follow up with you this week on details for the funeral".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Hmmmm...well, obviously I'm not Herb, and I don't know Ellen or John (may he rest in peace).  So I sit there for a minute and assess the situation.  I feel bad that Ellen's shakey fingers probably dialed the wrong number and now Herb won't know about his dear friend (brother, etc).  So I do the only thing I can think of.  I call Ellen back.  I explained who I was and that she must have dialed the wrong number.  She laughed and laughed...the said she must have dialed the wrong number and apologized.  She didn't sound very sad.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Moral of my story....either Ellen didn't like John very much, OR John had a pretty hefty life insurance policy with Ellen's name on it! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;RIP John.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/372356485006377003-2159976863853095202?l=stephaniechesser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/feeds/2159976863853095202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=372356485006377003&amp;postID=2159976863853095202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/372356485006377003/posts/default/2159976863853095202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/372356485006377003/posts/default/2159976863853095202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/2008/10/how-not-to-dial-wrong-number.html' title='How NOT to dial the wrong number...'/><author><name>Stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14708920483070983588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-372356485006377003.post-4596654524660823470</id><published>2008-10-15T20:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T20:37:32.644-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyone knows one...</title><content type='html'>I've been in a seminar the past few days, and I have come to realize that every class or seminar I take, there is one of &lt;em&gt;them&lt;/em&gt;.  The ones who know it all, have done everything and no matter the discussion have had the &lt;em&gt;worst&lt;/em&gt; experience pertaining to the topic.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had this person in my class, and luckily...he sat right next to me.  Oh fabulous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love these people, because even thought they have been sent to take this class or chosen to take it on their own, they feel like they are doing the teacher a favor by showing up every day.  Even though in most cases the teacher has obvious distaste for them.   The unusual thing about the one I had this week, was he laughed at everything.  But not a hearty, feel-it-in-my-gut laugh.  It was more of a creepy, yes-I-know-I'm-intelligent way.  He would also imitate all of the hand motions the instructor did.  Yeah, that was weird.  It was like he was practicing to be him.  Strange....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often do a check of myself that I'm not &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; person in a class.  But then I quickly reassure myself, because I don't know enough about any of the topics I attend seminars for (hence the reason I'm at the seminar).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/372356485006377003-4596654524660823470?l=stephaniechesser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/feeds/4596654524660823470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=372356485006377003&amp;postID=4596654524660823470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/372356485006377003/posts/default/4596654524660823470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/372356485006377003/posts/default/4596654524660823470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/2008/10/everyone-knows-one.html' title='Everyone knows one...'/><author><name>Stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14708920483070983588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-372356485006377003.post-5021207329202030694</id><published>2008-10-13T21:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T21:35:48.578-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wedding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mishaps'/><title type='text'>Is there really a difference between IVORY and WHITE? Yes, there is.</title><content type='html'>So, I get the long awaited call this past weekend that my wedding dress has finally arrived and I can come try it on.  I was extremely excited about this because I never tried on my actual dress.  I tried on a dress that had the correct top, and a dress that had the correct bottom, but not both.  So I excitedly trek through the POURING rain to head up there.  We get to the store and Mary* gets out the bag...I am WAY excited by now.  Mary starts to unzip the bag, but stops after an inch or so to tell me something that I don't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;remember&lt;/span&gt; because I REALLY wanted to see my dress.  By this point, it's like Mary has the complete power and knows it...I am being tortured and pretty much anything she says at this point means nothing to me.  So Mary &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;unzips&lt;/span&gt; the bag completely and pulls my dress out proudly displaying it and searching my face for complete and utter happiness.  She fails to find this on my face.  Our conversation that follows is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me:  Is that dress...cream? (I say this in a way that anyone would have picked up the fact that there is a problem...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary: Oh no! (me, breathing a big sigh of relief because my eyes MUST be playing tricks on me...) It's &lt;em&gt;IVORY&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: Oh...I ordered &lt;em&gt;white&lt;/em&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ohhhh&lt;/span&gt;....(the light bulb coming on...) We'll have to re-order then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Sooo&lt;/span&gt;, they have now given me a delivery date of Mid-December which completely sucks, because my wedding is January 10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;.  Nothing like cutting it short, right?  Oh well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between this and my wedding planner lady pregnant and OUT ON MATERNITY LEAVE during my wedding (are they even &lt;em&gt;allowed&lt;/em&gt; to &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;have&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; babies???) I have been tested all I care to be tested.  So I know the other stuff will go perfectly! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I promise this blog will NOT be all about weddings...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*Names have been changed to protect the innocent wedding dress ladies...but I think this might be her real name, I really don't remember.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/372356485006377003-5021207329202030694?l=stephaniechesser.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/feeds/5021207329202030694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=372356485006377003&amp;postID=5021207329202030694' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/372356485006377003/posts/default/5021207329202030694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/372356485006377003/posts/default/5021207329202030694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephaniechesser.blogspot.com/2008/10/is-there-really-difference-between.html' title='Is there really a difference between IVORY and WHITE? Yes, there is.'/><author><name>Stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14708920483070983588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
