<?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-9052511627435287125</id><updated>2012-02-16T10:54:12.128-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Runs With Scissors</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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>49</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-3703126788453662414</id><published>2008-07-02T08:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T08:15:28.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bizzare!</title><content type='html'>I had all but given up my blogging days - thinking that only my best friend, (Props to you Krystina!), reads it and comments upon it. Apparently I am wrong, other people do read it and some of you have even made comments. I haven't visited this page for almost a year - I even had difficulty remembering my password to sign on.&lt;br /&gt;It is a bizarre cultural phenomenon - blogging. You throw your ideas, feelings, criticisms...out into cyberspace and hope that there is someone out there who hears them...a sort of "Are you there God? It's me (Noree)", for the new millennium.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-3703126788453662414?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/3703126788453662414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=3703126788453662414' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3703126788453662414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3703126788453662414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2008/07/bizzare.html' title='Bizzare!'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-3737490453427307328</id><published>2007-07-28T12:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T12:44:49.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do I attract homeless people?</title><content type='html'>Why are the only men I seem to get attention from homeless or just plain creepy?  Seriously!  I know everyone goes through periods of drought where it seems as though they are dead to the opposite sex but I am currently experiencing a different sort of drought.  I don't know if it is my current hairstyle, clothing, or aura that is causing this shift in the cosmos but I don't like it one bit.  I just want to find a nice man with nice pants...who has a mailing address and...ideally a job.  Is this too much to ask?  It is not as though I hang out in tent cities!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-3737490453427307328?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/3737490453427307328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=3737490453427307328' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3737490453427307328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3737490453427307328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2007/07/why-do-i-attract-homeless-people.html' title='Why do I attract homeless people?'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-6723601287029407362</id><published>2007-07-11T16:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T16:46:03.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello Old Friends :O)</title><content type='html'>I forgot about my blog entirely! I completely forgot about you Blog until Garreth (an old friend from high school), referenced my rant about men and nice pants. Yes, Blog I apologize for neglecting you but so many new and time consuming events have been happening in Noreeland.&lt;br /&gt;Today I had an insanely hot Thai curry for lunch. I have come to the conclusion that my Scandinavian ancestry is responsible for a low curry tolerance. The Vikings didn't like to turn up the spice! Traditionally it is only those areas near the equator who have spicy food. I have heard it has something to do with poor refrigeration and hiding the taste of rancid meat. Whatever the case...have you ever heard of curried herring, or pi co de gallo lefse? ... Probably not. Which is why I think I may sweat like a fat kid on the 'Special K Challenge' when I eat anything from the tropics. Food for thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-6723601287029407362?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/6723601287029407362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=6723601287029407362' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/6723601287029407362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/6723601287029407362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2007/07/hello-old-friends-o.html' title='Hello Old Friends :O)'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-6411851548682127259</id><published>2007-06-08T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T09:24:34.637-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who I look like...apparently.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.myheritage.com" title="MyHeritage - share black and white photos with facial recognition technology" alt="MyHeritage - share black and white photos with facial recognition technology" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://storage.myheritagefiles.com/H/storage/site1/files/12/69/01/126901_507236a6189664r0lyvk39.JPG" width="500" height="574" border="0" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-6411851548682127259?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/6411851548682127259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=6411851548682127259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/6411851548682127259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/6411851548682127259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2007/06/who-i-look-likeapparently.html' title='Who I look like...apparently.'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-3663920521310201515</id><published>2007-05-23T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T17:28:45.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh My Goodness</title><content type='html'>Ok, It is official! I'm as good at keeping a blog as I am at keeping a journal. Back in high school, and in university too actually, I used to write in a journal daily. It may not have been profound or entertaining or valuable for posterity's sake but I was consistent. Now, it seems I have nothing to say - What does that say about me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-3663920521310201515?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/3663920521310201515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=3663920521310201515' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3663920521310201515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3663920521310201515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2007/05/oh-my-goodness.html' title='Oh My Goodness'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-4841111981028992691</id><published>2007-04-08T14:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-08T14:47:23.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Self-Righteous!</title><content type='html'>Sorry, I just had to yell that! It isn't directed toward anyone in particular but is rather just a word that has been on the tip of my tongue for a few days. I think I wanted to yell it at a few people...with other words mixed in...but I shouted it at no one just to shout it out now.&lt;br /&gt;I think I might actually be getting wiser as I get older. Things that used to bother me, don't anymore.  They have been replaced with different things, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying I don't get angry, or even that I'm not an angry person...I probably still am...Writing what I did previously proves this perhaps. I just feel that where I am is a better place than where I have been.  I guess that is what growing up is...when you can look back a few days, or months, or years and realise that where you are is a good place.  When I talk about a "place"... I mean emotionally, physically, intellectually.&lt;br /&gt;Jeez...I guess I'm the self-righteous one!...And I don't mind...not today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-4841111981028992691?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/4841111981028992691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=4841111981028992691' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/4841111981028992691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/4841111981028992691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2007/04/self-righteous.html' title='Self-Righteous!'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-845087193813187930</id><published>2007-03-28T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T19:01:56.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Do You Think She Is Thinking?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/Rgqg2EvxAGI/AAAAAAAAABU/RcDXWaNKYe4/s1600-h/hopper16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/Rgqg2EvxAGI/AAAAAAAAABU/RcDXWaNKYe4/s400/hopper16.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047023183269527650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edward Hopper is one of the truly great American painters.  His work is colurful and engaging - full of light and freshness.  Yet, I can not help but feel the sadness and isolation present in his work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-845087193813187930?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/845087193813187930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=845087193813187930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/845087193813187930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/845087193813187930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2007/03/what-do-you-think-she-is-thinking-about.html' title='What Do You Think She Is Thinking?'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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/_3vZtTA6OMHk/Rgqg2EvxAGI/AAAAAAAAABU/RcDXWaNKYe4/s72-c/hopper16.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-7827342970035603196</id><published>2007-03-22T15:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-22T15:59:32.158-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Is What You Shall Do ...</title><content type='html'>"Re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dimiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body."&lt;br /&gt;-Walt Whitman&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-7827342970035603196?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/7827342970035603196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=7827342970035603196' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/7827342970035603196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/7827342970035603196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2007/03/this-is-what-you-shall-do.html' title='This Is What You Shall Do ...'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-7063818970176032392</id><published>2007-03-07T17:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-07T18:18:20.589-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Call The Band - Width Police, I'm Breaking The Rules!</title><content type='html'>So, I'm not supposed to blogging from my work computer....sushhhhhh! But I am. The thing is that I don't have a home computer at the moment and I'm typing quickly and not saying anything naughty. :O) Human resources sent a memo out earlier in the week about our company's new IT policies and I've been breaking a couple on a regular basis but none of the major ones! And...well...I didn't know I was until I received the memo. Let's leave it at that, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are the hot men with nice pants?!! A large number of them are at the California Wine Fair tonight. This is where I was supposed to be as well but...now I am working. (This is bordering on a naughty statement as outlined by paragraph three of the company IT policy pertaining to comments about the workplace...so let's just leave it at that, shall we?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah,men with nice pants! As you may have guessed, I like a man who knows how to buy pants. When I broke up with my last boyfriend I made a promise to myself never to date a man with bad pants again!! I have always dated men with poor taste in pants and none of those relationships has been "the one"...time to turn over a new leaf!! But, where are these men with great pants? Surely they exist! It can't only be gay men who know about hemlines and khakis. Or is the Heterosexual man with nice pants like a snuffleupagus?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-7063818970176032392?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/7063818970176032392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=7063818970176032392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/7063818970176032392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/7063818970176032392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2007/03/call-band-width-police-im-breaking.html' title='Call The Band - Width Police, I&apos;m Breaking The Rules!'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-7114794743886801739</id><published>2007-02-28T08:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T08:40:40.869-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Howdy Ho!</title><content type='html'>Ahhhhh. I love moving!  It is an adventure!&lt;br /&gt;I think the lack of sleep is finally starting to get to me.  I woke up this morning deliriously happy.  Not about anything in particular.  In fact, at this point I should be freaking out with stress - pulling my hair out, gnashing my teeth, etc.  I think I have reached that point and surpassed it.  I still need to pack a few things and clean my apartment but the bottomline is that I will be (not)sleeping under a new roof in less than 48 hours. &lt;br /&gt;Also....I get to drive a big truck today!  Hooray!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-7114794743886801739?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/7114794743886801739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=7114794743886801739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/7114794743886801739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/7114794743886801739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2007/02/howdy-ho.html' title='Howdy Ho!'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-3427501270425277220</id><published>2007-02-09T13:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T19:01:56.970-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Actually Working</title><content type='html'>So, I haven't been posting on a regular basis.  This is mostly because at work, as of late, I have actually been working. ???  Imagine that!&lt;br /&gt;I have also been busy preparing for theatre school auditions and packing to move! I'm seriously stressed about these auditions and only moderately stressed about the packing and moving.  Combined, the stress resulting from these two situations is intense enough to make any work related stress I may have moot.  Yay!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah...I like this picture!&lt;br /&gt;Homer is Judas. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RcznqmVDnkI/AAAAAAAAABI/fn51WAgsDMY/s1600-h/gse_multipart42462.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RcznqmVDnkI/AAAAAAAAABI/fn51WAgsDMY/s320/gse_multipart42462.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5029649602895388226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-3427501270425277220?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/3427501270425277220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=3427501270425277220' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3427501270425277220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3427501270425277220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2007/02/actually-working.html' title='Actually Working'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RcznqmVDnkI/AAAAAAAAABI/fn51WAgsDMY/s72-c/gse_multipart42462.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-3780979891418212591</id><published>2007-01-25T09:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T10:13:14.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Have Neglected My Blog!!</title><content type='html'>I didn't mean to hurt you blog. I'm sorry if you feel I no longer love you...it just isn't true. You know you are my one and only. I've been busy.  You know how it gets...please forgive me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for a poem:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could&lt;br /&gt;I would paint a picture of you &lt;br /&gt;and call it &lt;em&gt;Negative Exposure&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Ironical?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey... I didn't say it was a good poem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-3780979891418212591?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/3780979891418212591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=3780979891418212591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3780979891418212591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3780979891418212591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-have-neglected-my-blog.html' title='I Have Neglected My Blog!!'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-8499499692161325814</id><published>2007-01-10T09:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T19:01:57.119-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Did Not Go To University For This!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RaUtxE_RRrI/AAAAAAAAAA8/A9b9J4c449k/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RaUtxE_RRrI/AAAAAAAAAA8/A9b9J4c449k/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018467680950240946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel that if I took a pin and stuck it in my head right now that it would deflate like a balloon...or explode!  I'm seriously contemplating the pin-in-head approach to stress relief.  I doubt it would work though.  I would probably just end up with a pin in my head and a small amount of blood running down my face. &lt;br /&gt;Uggghhhhhh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-8499499692161325814?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/8499499692161325814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=8499499692161325814' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/8499499692161325814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/8499499692161325814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-did-not-go-to-university-to-do-job.html' title='I Did Not Go To University For This!!'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RaUtxE_RRrI/AAAAAAAAAA8/A9b9J4c449k/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-1046316409491319181</id><published>2006-12-29T09:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T19:01:57.270-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Perspective</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RZVZ8B0SCGI/AAAAAAAAAAw/dYra6Fstr8w/s1600-h/positive+attitude.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RZVZ8B0SCGI/AAAAAAAAAAw/dYra6Fstr8w/s320/positive+attitude.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5014012647961659490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read an article on MSN yesterday which discussed the reasons why men marry.  It stated that the number one quality men look for in the women they marry is a positive attitude... Perhaps this is the reason I am still single.  Dating is another story.  The qualities men seek in women &lt;strong&gt;they date&lt;/strong&gt; are the cliche - physical attractiveness, a sense of humour, large pocketbook.&lt;br /&gt;So, perhaps it is time that Noree adopted a more positive perspective.  I'm not saying I am "changing" myself to find a man...just that maybe I could be a more balanced individual if I tipped my scale toward the sunny side of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body..." &lt;br /&gt;- Walt Whitman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes Walt!  Yes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-1046316409491319181?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/1046316409491319181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=1046316409491319181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/1046316409491319181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/1046316409491319181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/12/new-perspective.html' title='A New Perspective'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RZVZ8B0SCGI/AAAAAAAAAAw/dYra6Fstr8w/s72-c/positive+attitude.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-7786411678244567158</id><published>2006-12-27T13:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T19:01:57.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When I Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RZLj5B0SCFI/AAAAAAAAAAk/4SXeGv-0cHU/s1600-h/Chagall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RZLj5B0SCFI/AAAAAAAAAAk/4SXeGv-0cHU/s320/Chagall.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5013319904096553042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A painting by Marc Chagall, one of my favourite artists because in his paintings man can fly and horses play the violin.  I wish every dream could be like a painting by Chagall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-7786411678244567158?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/7786411678244567158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=7786411678244567158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/7786411678244567158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/7786411678244567158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/12/when-i-dream.html' title='When I Dream'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RZLj5B0SCFI/AAAAAAAAAAk/4SXeGv-0cHU/s72-c/Chagall.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-8634380209124277822</id><published>2006-12-27T12:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-27T13:08:36.591-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year</title><content type='html'>I love the Holiday Gap Week - These little days of heaven between Christmas and New Year's are my favourite days of the year perhaps! Sure I have to work this year but it is quiet... and almost fun. I am looking forward to New Year's Eve but not as much as I am looking forward to a brand new year and a brand new day-timer. So many pages to fill with events and appointments.&lt;br /&gt;I had sort of crumby Christmas full of relatives asking stupid questions and parents humming and hawing but I survived. I enjoyed playing Chutes and Ladders, Battleship, Uno, and hockey with my nephews. Without them I probably would have tried to impale myself on some sort of tacky, holiday lawn ornament.  Don't get me wrong, I love the rest of my family but there is a reason why I no longer live with them...or in the same city. :O)&lt;br /&gt;I have a feeling the 2007 is going to be a big year for Noree!  Let's hope so anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-8634380209124277822?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/8634380209124277822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=8634380209124277822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/8634380209124277822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/8634380209124277822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/12/most-wonderful-time-of-year.html' title='The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-5371287034558358553</id><published>2006-12-20T12:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T19:01:57.999-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Burnout</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RYmj0x0SCEI/AAAAAAAAAAY/KU5tZkYKMBw/s1600-h/holiday+burnout.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RYmj0x0SCEI/AAAAAAAAAAY/KU5tZkYKMBw/s320/holiday+burnout.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5010716187547535426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Santa, I know how you feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wit makes fun of other persons; the satirist makes fun of the world; the humorist makes fun of himself. &lt;br /&gt;James Thurber, in Edward R. Murrow television interview&lt;br /&gt;US author, cartoonist, humorist, &amp; satirist (1894 - 1961)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-5371287034558358553?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/5371287034558358553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=5371287034558358553' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/5371287034558358553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/5371287034558358553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/12/holiday-burnout.html' title='Holiday Burnout'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RYmj0x0SCEI/AAAAAAAAAAY/KU5tZkYKMBw/s72-c/holiday+burnout.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-480574078971398226</id><published>2006-12-14T17:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T19:01:58.174-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What I Said Before....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RYH7HFQIlNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/yjS7m1d5K6k/s1600-h/Tuttle%2520Taakoa%2520Island%2520Cook%2520Islands%2520South%2520Pacific%252096x4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RYH7HFQIlNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/yjS7m1d5K6k/s320/Tuttle%2520Taakoa%2520Island%2520Cook%2520Islands%2520South%2520Pacific%252096x4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5008560359700206802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SERENITY NOW !!!!&lt;br /&gt;I can not wait for the new year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-480574078971398226?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/480574078971398226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=480574078971398226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/480574078971398226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/480574078971398226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/12/what-i-said-before.html' title='What I Said Before....'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3vZtTA6OMHk/RYH7HFQIlNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/yjS7m1d5K6k/s72-c/Tuttle%2520Taakoa%2520Island%2520Cook%2520Islands%2520South%2520Pacific%252096x4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-7528455254639287904</id><published>2006-12-12T19:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-12T20:04:22.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"I Have Enough Character, Thanks"</title><content type='html'>And thank you, Sarah, for that lovely quote.  I like it too.&lt;br /&gt;I have decided that I am leaving all of my crap in 2006.  Any bad feelings, any unrequieted love, any extra pounds will magically turn into a pumpkin at 11:59pm Dec 31st, 2006.  I will then take that pumpkin and throw it at Laird's house...(just metaphorically).  I just like the idea of smashed pumpkin on his house.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, 2007 will be a better year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-7528455254639287904?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/7528455254639287904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=7528455254639287904' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/7528455254639287904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/7528455254639287904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-have-enough-character-thanks.html' title='&quot;I Have Enough Character, Thanks&quot;'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-7873297870043388370</id><published>2006-12-08T15:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-08T15:44:08.804-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Does This Video Suck?</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HJgUOCHiVjU"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HJgUOCHiVjU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Chris Martin,(and Cold Play)and all but why is this video so dull?  It is a great song...one of my favourites...listen to it's goodness.  :O)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-7873297870043388370?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/7873297870043388370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=7873297870043388370' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/7873297870043388370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/7873297870043388370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/12/why-does-this-video-suck.html' title='Why Does This Video Suck?'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-1548478334132243963</id><published>2006-12-08T00:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-08T00:40:52.655-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The heart has it's reasons that reason knows nothing of. - Pascal</title><content type='html'>Life never ceases to surprise me.  I try to prepare myself for the worst case scenario,(or the best case scenario), but without fail life presents the "out-of-left-field-never-would-have-conjured-it-in-a-million-bad-acid-trips" scenario.&lt;br /&gt;I am a strong believer in things happening for a reason, but I'm also a strong complainer about things happening to teach lessons.  It seems that character is not doled out in equal shares.  Some people tend to get more lesson situations than they need...&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe it is the wise person who learns from every situation?  (I prefer to think this is true.)&lt;br /&gt;"Immortality will come to such as are fit for it; and [s]he who would be a great soul in the future must be a great soul now."  - Ralph Waldo Emerson&lt;br /&gt;I hope you find some solace in Ralph's words my red-haired goddess friend!  Your soul kicks ass!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-1548478334132243963?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/1548478334132243963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=1548478334132243963' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/1548478334132243963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/1548478334132243963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/12/heart-has-its-reasons-that-reason-knows.html' title='The heart has it&apos;s reasons that reason knows nothing of. - Pascal'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-2272591867726188252</id><published>2006-12-01T17:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T17:57:42.590-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Avoid Falling Into Anything</title><content type='html'>The title of this blog is evidently what the title of my first (or last) book will be.  It is advice which I would give to anyone wishing to avoid pain in this lifetime.  To love someone who doesn't know you are alive is painful.  To love someone who knows you exist but still does not return your love is pure torture.  If I were a smarter bean I would not be in this predicament but alas...  There is no "Painting" without "Pain".  Here are some other platitudes which might make you feel worse:&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. &lt;br /&gt;Leo Tolstoy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it is harder to deprive oneself of a pain than of a pleasure. &lt;br /&gt;F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night&lt;br /&gt;US novelist (1896 - 1940) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you greatly desire something, have the guts to stake everything on obtaining it. &lt;br /&gt;Brendan Francis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two tragedies in life. One is not to get your heart's desire. The other is to get it. &lt;br /&gt;George Bernard Shaw, "Man and Superman" (1903), act 4&lt;br /&gt;Irish dramatist &amp; socialist (1856 - 1950) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness. &lt;br /&gt;Friedrich Nietzsche, "On Reading and Writing"&lt;br /&gt;German philosopher (1844 - 1900) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no remedy for love but to love more. &lt;br /&gt;Henry David Thoreau, Journal, July 25, 1839&lt;br /&gt;US Transcendentalist author (1817 - 1862) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot think well of a man who sports with any woman's feelings; and there may often be a great deal more suffered than a stander-by can judge of. &lt;br /&gt;Jane Austen, Mansfield Park&lt;br /&gt;English novelist (1775 - 1817)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-2272591867726188252?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/2272591867726188252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=2272591867726188252' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/2272591867726188252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/2272591867726188252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/12/avoid-falling-into-anything.html' title='Avoid Falling Into Anything'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-4285115048069122279</id><published>2006-12-01T07:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T07:55:25.303-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life's Gonna Suck ( a slideshow)</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3OjnwxhL72o"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3OjnwxhL72o" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been my mantra as of late.  It is a catchy tune...there is no denying that.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I would do without Youtube.com.  I would probably get more accomplished in life.&lt;br /&gt;I surveyed all of the videos for this song and this was the only one without anime or dead people.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-4285115048069122279?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/4285115048069122279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=4285115048069122279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/4285115048069122279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/4285115048069122279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/12/lifes-gonna-suck-slideshow.html' title='Life&apos;s Gonna Suck ( a slideshow)'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-6394058150470076155</id><published>2006-11-25T14:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-25T14:53:17.571-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nuff Said</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1-YSFH_qhDM"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1-YSFH_qhDM" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-6394058150470076155?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/6394058150470076155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=6394058150470076155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/6394058150470076155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/6394058150470076155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/11/nuff-said.html' title='Nuff Said'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-789237156318466383</id><published>2006-11-25T13:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T07:32:12.502-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pourquoi?</title><content type='html'>What is the world coming to? I called someone on their cell phone the other day and that person answered her phone while taking a pee. Why? Why would someone answer her phone while taking a pee? I don't want to hear the trickle of urine in the background while trying to conduct a conversation. Nor do I wish to hear the ominous flush at the end of the trickle!! Seriously People! If you are peeing and someone calls you, let the call go to voice-mail!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also....Yesterday when I awoke I looked out my window and saw nothing but white. This often occurs at our latitude but it is particularly discouraging when the sun does not show itself for days. I go to work in the dark and I come home in the dark. I do my hair in the morning and put a toque on. I put on sunscreen daily, (because this is what I'm told to do by the dermatologists) and never feel the sun on my skin or see it from our windowless office. The only contact I have with the outside world on these bitterly cold days is my trek from my apartment to the bus stop and from the bus stop to work. In those few brief minutes I can feel the icy wind try to penetrate my skin like a million tiny snowmen with hypothermic(sic) needles. Where are you Spring? I long to feel your warm breath on my neck and the embrace of a zephyr!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-789237156318466383?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/789237156318466383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=789237156318466383' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/789237156318466383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/789237156318466383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/11/pourquoi.html' title='Pourquoi?'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-4718368284278894298</id><published>2006-11-18T12:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-18T12:30:14.632-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful Words</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Remember, body...&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Body, remember not only how much you were loved,&lt;br /&gt;not only the beds on which you lay,&lt;br /&gt;but also those desires which for you&lt;br /&gt;plainly glowed in the eyes,&lt;br /&gt;and trembled in the voice -- and some&lt;br /&gt;chance obstacle made them futile.&lt;br /&gt;Now that all belongs to the past,&lt;br /&gt;it is almost as if you had yielded&lt;br /&gt;to those desires too -- remember,&lt;br /&gt;how they glowed, in the eyes looking at you;&lt;br /&gt;how they trembled in the voice, for you, remember, body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Constantine P. Cavafy (1918)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Cinnamon Peeler &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were a cinnamon peeler&lt;br /&gt;I would ride your bed&lt;br /&gt;and leave the yellow bark dust&lt;br /&gt;on your pillow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your breasts and shoulders would reek&lt;br /&gt;you could never walk through markets&lt;br /&gt;without the profession of my fingers&lt;br /&gt;floating over you.  The blind would&lt;br /&gt;stumble certain of whom they approached&lt;br /&gt;though you might bathe&lt;br /&gt;under the rain gutters, monsoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here on the upper thigh&lt;br /&gt;at this smooth pasture&lt;br /&gt;neighbour to your hair&lt;br /&gt;or the crease&lt;br /&gt;that cuts your back.  This ankle.&lt;br /&gt;You will be known among strangers&lt;br /&gt;as the cinnamon peeler's wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could hardly glance at you&lt;br /&gt;before marriage&lt;br /&gt;never touch you&lt;br /&gt;- your keen nosed mother, your rough brothers.&lt;br /&gt;I buried my hands&lt;br /&gt;in saffron, disguised them&lt;br /&gt;over smoking tar,&lt;br /&gt;helped the honey gatherers...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we swam once&lt;br /&gt;I touched you in the water&lt;br /&gt;and our bodies remained free,&lt;br /&gt;you could hold me and be blind of smell.&lt;br /&gt;You climbed the bank and said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         this is how you touch other women&lt;br /&gt;the grass cutter's wife, the lime burner's daughter.&lt;br /&gt;And you searched your arms&lt;br /&gt;for the missing perfume&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                     and knew&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           what good is it&lt;br /&gt;to be the lime burner's daughter&lt;br /&gt;left with no trace&lt;br /&gt;as if not spoken to in the act of love&lt;br /&gt;as if wounded without the pleasure of a scar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You touched&lt;br /&gt;your belly to my hands&lt;br /&gt;in the dry air and said&lt;br /&gt;I am the cinnamon&lt;br /&gt;peeler's wife.  Smell me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; -- Michael Ondaatje&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-4718368284278894298?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/4718368284278894298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=4718368284278894298' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/4718368284278894298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/4718368284278894298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/11/beautiful-words.html' title='Beautiful Words'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-2532031595032694789</id><published>2006-11-18T12:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-18T12:22:30.893-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mad World :O)</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DD0n8xnUWf8"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DD0n8xnUWf8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-2532031595032694789?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/2532031595032694789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=2532031595032694789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/2532031595032694789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/2532031595032694789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/11/mad-world-o.html' title='Mad World :O)'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-133099715230340776</id><published>2006-11-16T14:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-16T14:35:10.485-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Wants Kevin Federline Now?</title><content type='html'>Honestly, who does this guy think he is?  Does he really think that he will get laid ever again?  The sad thing is he probably will.  He may even pro-create again...God help us all.  &lt;br /&gt;I truely feel bad for Britney.  Yes, she chose a bad husband and a bad father for her children but she probably thought that he would grow up eventually.  Sadly, Britney, he hasn't done so yet.  Her career and personal life both seem to be in the toilet but I think dumping K-Fed is a good move in both arenas.  I am hoping for big comeback for Britney.  Not because she is super talented but because she seems like a genuinely kind person...just not that bright.  I'm sick of hearing about successful women being taken advantage of by deadbeat jack asses. What a skeez!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-133099715230340776?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/133099715230340776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=133099715230340776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/133099715230340776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/133099715230340776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/11/who-wants-kevin-federline-now.html' title='Who Wants Kevin Federline Now?'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-2598470230793839428</id><published>2006-11-09T07:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T07:34:51.457-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Disturbing Trend</title><content type='html'>I realise that the Blog genre was almost entirely created as an outlet for teenage/middleage angst but I find my recent trend of depressing entries shameful.  I used to be a good writer...honestly...one may say an above-average writer at the very least. Now it seems that all I do is whine.&lt;br /&gt;I am not a whiner.  I don't think even my older siblings would label me as such.  I am able to put up with a variety of shit without complaint usually.  What has changed?  Am I truly unhappy?  I don't think I am...on the contrary...I'm probably happier now than I have been for the past 5-6 years.  Perhaps I need a hobby.  Or maybe it is that whole "dream deferred" thing.  Something inside of me is drying "like a raisin in the sun" and I need to rehydrate.&lt;br /&gt;To the four people who read my blog,(yes, and to you the Phantom Post-er who removed your comments before I had a chance to read them!), I make a pledge to cheer the hell up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:O)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-2598470230793839428?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/2598470230793839428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=2598470230793839428' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/2598470230793839428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/2598470230793839428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/11/disturbing-trend.html' title='A Disturbing Trend'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-3674384004069844709</id><published>2006-11-09T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T07:14:16.954-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Attempt</title><content type='html'>This is the aforementioned Hip Hopera...Chapter 1...I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/y8IVlfyIc8g"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/y8IVlfyIc8g" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-3674384004069844709?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/3674384004069844709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=3674384004069844709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3674384004069844709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3674384004069844709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/11/another-attempt.html' title='Another Attempt'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-1786996211454130208</id><published>2006-11-07T16:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T17:12:24.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hope This Is A Joke</title><content type='html'>Have you seen R. Kelly's Hip Hopera, "Trapped In The Closet"? I truly hope that it is all a joke. I am afraid it is not though. I wasn't able to post the opera itself, I tried but my posting skills are lacking. You should check it out though, all 11 Chapters. It is awfully disturbing...I hope you don't turn to stone:&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ms3WabNFWnc &lt;br /&gt;There is also a great parody by Mad TV:&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LkRF9sUzCSo &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God speed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-1786996211454130208?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/1786996211454130208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=1786996211454130208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/1786996211454130208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/1786996211454130208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-hope-this-is-joke.html' title='I Hope This Is A Joke'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-4986041699770682735</id><published>2006-11-06T11:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T11:54:34.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Favourite Goblins</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/597/1105042923270909/1600/get-attachment.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/597/1105042923270909/320/get-attachment.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; These are my nephews trying to look tough after a hard evening of trick-or-treating. The oldest three are wearing false, gnarly teeth so don't write to me about encouraging better dental hygiene. Also, Spencer, (Jack-Jack Incredible) looks dazed and confused because he likely is...dazed and confused. He is less than 7 months old and is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;thoroughly&lt;/span&gt; in awe of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Halloween&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;phenomenon&lt;/span&gt;. The lumberjack in the back is my older brother Paul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/597/1105042923270909/1600/the%20nephews.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px" height="257" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/597/1105042923270909/320/the%20nephews.jpg" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not sure if Carter (Superman) has padded muscles or if that is a snowsuit underneath his costume. Or, maybe he really is that buff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It wouldn't be Alberta if the kids didn't make their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Halloween&lt;/span&gt; costumes big enough to fit over a full snowsuit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ryan and Grant are pirates of the Carribean with exceptionally clean clothes and no visable tatoos or piercings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think they are all adorable but I'm their Auntie and likely biased.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-4986041699770682735?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/4986041699770682735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=4986041699770682735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/4986041699770682735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/4986041699770682735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/11/my-favourite-goblins.html' title='My Favourite Goblins'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-6392413915927337303</id><published>2006-10-31T17:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T16:11:00.651-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life's Gonna' Suck</title><content type='html'>Life's Gonna Suck - By Dennis Leary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life's gonna suck when you grow up, when you grow up, when you grow up&lt;br /&gt;Life's gonna suck when you grow up, it sucks pretty bad right now&lt;br /&gt;Hey, if you know the words, sing along&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna have to mow the lawn, do the dishes, make your bed&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna have to go to school until you're seventeen&lt;br /&gt;It's gonna seem about three times as long as that&lt;br /&gt;You might have to go to war, shoot a gun, kill a nun&lt;br /&gt;You might have to go to war when you get out of school&lt;br /&gt;Hey cheer up kids, it gets a lot worse&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna have to deal with stress, deal with stress, deal with stress&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna be a giant mess when you get back from the war&lt;br /&gt;Santa Claus does not exist, and there is no Easter Bunny&lt;br /&gt;You'll find out when you grow up that Big Bird isn't funny&lt;br /&gt;Life's gonna suck when you grow up, when you grow up, when you grow up&lt;br /&gt;Life's gonna suck when you grow up, it sucks pretty bad right now&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna end up smoking crack, on you're back, face the fact&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna end up hooked on smack and then you're gonna die&lt;br /&gt;And then you're gonna die&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-6392413915927337303?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/6392413915927337303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=6392413915927337303' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/6392413915927337303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/6392413915927337303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/10/lifes-gonna-suck.html' title='Life&apos;s Gonna&apos; Suck'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-1396834379369718627</id><published>2006-10-24T17:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T17:39:25.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There is no "I" in Win!! - Steve Holt</title><content type='html'>No Steve, there is an "I" in win...if you write it in English. (Unless you spell it phonetically, in which case it doesn't, but only a linguist would do that.  Geeks!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost got hit by a car today.  It was my own fault.  I tried to cross the street after the little hand started to flash red.&lt;br /&gt;I won't lie...I wouldn't have minded getting hit by the car too much.  I really need a holiday and well, two broken legs would be a good excuse to stay in bed and watch movies for a few weeks.  If I had been hit by a car at least I would have an excuse for feeling crappy and depressed.  I might as well have a gaping head wound or semi-detached limb of some sort...my heart feels like it has been through a blender.&lt;br /&gt;Woe is Me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-1396834379369718627?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/1396834379369718627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=1396834379369718627' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/1396834379369718627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/1396834379369718627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/10/there-is-no-i-in-win-steve-holt.html' title='There is no &quot;I&quot; in Win!! - Steve Holt'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-284202711116254896</id><published>2006-10-20T10:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-20T11:31:54.598-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bus Of Thought</title><content type='html'>We talk about trains of thought, well this is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Noree's&lt;/span&gt; "bus" of thought from this morning...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I took the bus to work in the dark.  This happens at this time of year around this latitude - going to work before the sun comes up and then returning home after the sun has gone down.  On the bus were two students discussing music theory which somehow led to a discussion of Jim Croce and the song "If I Could Put Time In a Bottle".  I was listening-in because theirs was the only conversation on the bus.  Their talking led me to think of Kermit the Frog and the following poem:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[IF]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can keep your head when all about you&lt;br /&gt;Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,&lt;br /&gt;If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you&lt;br /&gt;But make allowance for their doubting too,&lt;br /&gt;If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,&lt;br /&gt;Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,&lt;br /&gt;Or being hated, don't give way to hating,&lt;br /&gt;And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,&lt;br /&gt;If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;&lt;br /&gt;If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster&lt;br /&gt;And treat those two impostors just the same;&lt;br /&gt;If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken&lt;br /&gt;Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,&lt;br /&gt;Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,&lt;br /&gt;And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can make one heap of all your winnings&lt;br /&gt;And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,&lt;br /&gt;And lose, and start again at your beginnings&lt;br /&gt;And never breath a word about your loss;&lt;br /&gt;If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew&lt;br /&gt;To serve your turn long after they are gone,&lt;br /&gt;And so hold on when there is nothing in you&lt;br /&gt;Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,&lt;br /&gt;Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,&lt;br /&gt;If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;&lt;br /&gt;If all men count with you, but none too much,&lt;br /&gt;If you can fill the unforgiving minute&lt;br /&gt;With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,&lt;br /&gt;Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,&lt;br /&gt;And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Rudyard Kipling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The poem reminds me of Bridget Jones: The Edge Of Reason...the 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; book not the second movie...When Bridget is in the Thai jail and she repeats this to herself to keep from breaking down.  In 2001 this poem was always in my wallet on a small scrap of yellow paper.  It stayed there until it became shreds of pulp and lint.  I rediscovered it today and it is above my computer at work.  It is placed just high enough that if I lift my head to look at it any tears that may be welling in my eyes will go away. &lt;br /&gt;I'm kind of sensitive this week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-284202711116254896?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/284202711116254896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=284202711116254896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/284202711116254896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/284202711116254896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/10/bus-of-thought.html' title='Bus Of Thought'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-5625719939904007619</id><published>2006-10-19T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T21:35:52.811-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When Life Goes To Shit....</title><content type='html'>Make shit-aid. (Like Lemon-aid.)&lt;br /&gt;I can't think, or talk, or write right now. So, as I often do, I am going to borrow someone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt; words. Leo Tolstoy, "A Calendar of Wisdom" :&lt;br /&gt;The meaning of life is revealed to those who are ready to accept the things which will be revealed. And it is he who has already decided that he will accept the truth as it is, and not the truth itself, which will change the way of life he has been accustomed to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who am I? What should I do? What should I believe in and what should I hope for?&lt;/em&gt; All of philosophy is in these questions, said the philosopher &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Lichtenberg&lt;/span&gt;. But among all these questions, the most important one is that which is in the middle. If a person knows what he should do, he will understand everything which he should know.&lt;br /&gt;The real meaning of life is not possible to embrace, if you are looking for the universal meaning of life. And at the same time it is so simple that it can be explained to fools and to infants when what to know is what you should do as an individual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Yeah...Thanks a lot Leo! There's more...)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most important knowledge is that which guides the way you lead your life.&lt;br /&gt;It is harmful to eat when you are not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hungry&lt;/span&gt;. It is even worse to have sex if you lack desire. But even more harmful is to try to think when you do not wish to, or to be engaged in meaningless intellectual activity. Many people do so when they want to improve their position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(And my personal favorite for today...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;The more urgently you want to speak, the more likely it is that you will say something foolish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Touche.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-5625719939904007619?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/5625719939904007619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=5625719939904007619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/5625719939904007619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/5625719939904007619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/10/when-life-goes-to-shit.html' title='When Life Goes To Shit....'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-5349811985435293131</id><published>2006-10-17T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T18:55:33.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Elimination Dance</title><content type='html'>So, I think if you've read this blog thingy of mine before you will know that I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cuckoo&lt;/span&gt; for poetry. I love the shit - but only the shit that is the shit if you know what I mean. (Yes, I am blogging under the influence right now but rightfully so.) Tomorrow is my birthday and as far as birthdays go I imagine it will neither be the worst nor the best. I am very grateful to my friend(s) who are making a solid effort to ensure that it is not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;sucktastic&lt;/span&gt; , but it is a daunting task. I myself have resigned to the fact that the special boy is not going to remember and my family is likely to forget as well. I'll probably have a bad hair day and a family of mice will eat the cake I baked for myself. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Pouty&lt;/span&gt; Pout Pout!! As I sit here arms folded, my lower lip protruding, I am reminded of some brilliant poetry by Michael &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Ondaatje&lt;/span&gt; - "The Time Around Scars", "The Cinnamon Peeler", pretty much anything by him. However the most fitting to my mood is a series of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;statements&lt;/span&gt; he has entitled "Elimination Dance." Lawrence Ferlinghetti did something similar with his "I am waiting..." sentences. Basically &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Ondaatje&lt;/span&gt; eliminates the people, or actions he finds pretentious or annoying. I adore them all but here are some of my favorite. I hope you you feel some angst or something toward them...or maybe chuckle. If not read the first two poems I mentioned they are sure to make you cry or sigh in awe. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Anyhoo&lt;/span&gt;...as promised these are some of the people to be eliminated:&lt;br /&gt;"Those who (while visiting a foreign country) have lost the end of a Q tip in their ear and have been unable to explain their problem"&lt;br /&gt;"All the actors and poets who spit into the first row while they perform"&lt;br /&gt;"Men who fear to use an electric lawn-mower feeling they could drowse off and be dragged by it into a swimming pool"&lt;br /&gt;" Any dinner guest who has consumed the host's missing contact lens along with the dessert"&lt;br /&gt;"Any person who has lost a urine sample in the mail"&lt;br /&gt;"Those who have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;accidentally&lt;/span&gt; stapled themselves"&lt;br /&gt;"Women who gave up the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;accordion&lt;/span&gt; because of pinched breasts"&lt;br /&gt;"Anyone whose knees have been ruined as a result of performing sexual acts in elevators"&lt;br /&gt;"Any lover who has gone into a flower shop on Valentine's Day and asked for clitoris when he meant clematis"&lt;br /&gt;"Anyone who has testified as a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;character&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;witness&lt;/span&gt; for a dog in a court of law"&lt;br /&gt;" Any writer who has been photographed for the jacket of a book in one of the following poses: sitting in a 1956 Dodge with two roosters; in a tuxedo with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Sydney&lt;/span&gt; Opera House in the distance; studying the vanishing point on a jar of Dutch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Cleanser&lt;/span&gt;; against a gravestone with back lighting; with a false nose on; in the vicinity of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Macchu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Pichu&lt;/span&gt;; or sitting in a study and looking intensely at one's own book"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That last one is my favorite I think. If you have any to add please let me know I'd love to hear them. I feel less &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;pouty&lt;/span&gt; already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-5349811985435293131?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/5349811985435293131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=5349811985435293131' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/5349811985435293131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/5349811985435293131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/10/elimination-dance.html' title='Elimination Dance'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9052511627435287125.post-1420091353519822495</id><published>2006-10-12T22:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T22:41:45.932-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe I am 10!</title><content type='html'>I have new mittens.  They are practical in the sense that they are well constructed with polar fleece lining etc...but they also have fins.  Essentially they are shark puppets.  I love them.  Does this make me immature?  Sometimes I like being ridiculous and the shark mittens make me smile.  Why do some adults feel that they have to leave this sort of simple joy behind after age ten?  I hope to have crazy tea pots when I'm 80!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-1420091353519822495?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/1420091353519822495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=1420091353519822495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/1420091353519822495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/1420091353519822495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/10/maybe-i-am-10.html' title='Maybe I am 10!'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-7076538486051163176</id><published>2006-10-03T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-03T17:06:12.507-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Angst Aside</title><content type='html'>Things are not that bad...really.  I just get over-dramatic sometimes and angsty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-7076538486051163176?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/7076538486051163176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=7076538486051163176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/7076538486051163176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/7076538486051163176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/10/angst-aside.html' title='Angst Aside'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-6441738205503829235</id><published>2006-10-02T23:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-03T00:03:51.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dealio</title><content type='html'>Ok, so here's the deal.  I don't know what the heck I am doing with my life.  I'm scared shitless about what I should be doing next...as if what I do next means everything!  What does making a huge mistake at this point in my life mean?  It means nothing.  I should not be so afraid to create, to fail, to disappoint.  Back in the days when I was creative and articulate, back when I could write and speak with a certain amount of aptitude - I had ideas.  I must write more and read more and not censor myself or worry about failure or my feelings of inadequacy.  I should not allow punctuation and grammar to hold me back from dreaming big and being bold in my actions.  Baby steps toward sanity, job fulfilment, and life enjoyment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-6441738205503829235?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/6441738205503829235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=6441738205503829235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/6441738205503829235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/6441738205503829235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/10/dealio.html' title='The Dealio'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-6177460611160783907</id><published>2006-10-02T23:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T23:36:35.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretty Words</title><content type='html'>If the sea could dream, and if the sea&lt;br /&gt;were dreaming now, the dream&lt;br /&gt;would be the usual one: Of the Flesh.&lt;br /&gt;The letter written in the dream would go&lt;br /&gt;something like:  &lt;em&gt;Forgive me - love, Blue&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;- Carl Phillips&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-6177460611160783907?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/6177460611160783907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=6177460611160783907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/6177460611160783907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/6177460611160783907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/10/pretty-words.html' title='Pretty Words'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-2519868795950598815</id><published>2006-09-27T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T21:02:34.737-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to apologise</title><content type='html'>I would like to apologise to the homeless man who scared the crap out of me tonight, I didn't mean to be rude by closing my door in your face.  You just scared me.  Let me explain.  A coworker kindly offered me a ride home tonight.  And when we saw you and your friends sitting together in the dark parking lot we were not afraid.  You were just hanging out...that's cool.   and when we offered you our left over pizza you seemed cool with that.  It was only when you sneaked up behind me while my butt was in the air that I freaked and slammed the door.  It may be that you just wanted to thank us for the pizza but I was startled.  I feel terrible that I may have offended you.  Please accept my apology, I did not mean to be impolite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;Noree&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-2519868795950598815?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/2519868795950598815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=2519868795950598815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/2519868795950598815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/2519868795950598815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-want-to-apologise.html' title='I want to apologise'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-8026720591693241932</id><published>2006-09-25T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T19:30:31.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happier Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/597/1105042923270909/1600/harlem.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/597/1105042923270909/1600/harlem.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/597/1105042923270909/320/harlem.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Poetry is what he thought, but did not say." - Heather &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;McHugh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm making an effort to think positive thoughts today. Positive thoughts don't lend themselves to poetry as easily as brooding, melancholy thoughts. We think so many things that never come to fruition. The mind is a great &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;incubator&lt;/span&gt;. What happens to these "dreams deferred," these poems?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With me, today, it is letters unwritten that consume me.  I compose a dozen in my head but they never make it to paper.  To different people...old friends, old loves, new loves, people I've never met before.  I'd like to have all of these letters sent out some day.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like to think that I am brave sometimes.  "Live Out Loud," used to be my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;credo&lt;/span&gt; - before Roger's wireless adopted it as their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;corporate&lt;/span&gt; slogan.  (How could they do that?)  But I'm not really brave, maybe I'm foolish, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;naive&lt;/span&gt;, arrogant, reckless.  I can't put my finger on it exactly.  It's my heart...you're right J, it is huge...and my mind...I'm tirelessly curious...And my love of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ellipsis&lt;/span&gt;!!  I feel like I'm ten again running through a vast field or tumbling down a grassy hill in white pants!! I want to do it all, see it all, be it all.  These poems in my head are going to explode if they don't find an outlet soon!    &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/9052511627435287125-8026720591693241932?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/8026720591693241932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=8026720591693241932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/8026720591693241932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/8026720591693241932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/09/happier-things.html' title='Happier Things'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-1605742449553853971</id><published>2006-09-24T19:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-24T19:20:02.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Great Philosopher Jager</title><content type='html'>"You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you just might find you get what you need." - M. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Jager&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, not a philosopher per say but a wise man none the less.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe getting what I want would be terrible. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Buddha&lt;/span&gt; says that all desire is suffering, we experience suffering because we experience desire. But isn't it worth it? Each moment of suffering is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;reminder&lt;/span&gt; of how wonderful not suffering is. Oh whatever &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Noree&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;everyone&lt;/span&gt; has heard this crap before. Blah blah, "Tears are a miracle!", blah blah, "There is no 'Painting' without 'Pain'." Wanting something you can't have is just...annoying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-1605742449553853971?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/1605742449553853971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=1605742449553853971' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/1605742449553853971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/1605742449553853971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/09/great-philosopher-jager.html' title='The Great Philosopher Jager'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-6088258319715382432</id><published>2006-09-20T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-20T20:05:09.047-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poetry Corner</title><content type='html'>'One Art', It is a great poem by Elizabeth Bishop from my Handbook of Heartbreak - edited by Robert Pinsky.  ( Some of you may recall that Robert Pinsky is a former Poet Laureate of the United States and Simpson's guest star.)  Ok, I realise it is pretentious to use one's blog to share adventures in Post-Modern poetry but I have few people to talk with about this sort of thing now that I am out of school.   So, I might post poems I like on here from time to time.  Be thankful, I could spend entire entries voicing my disgust with crappy academic labels like"Post Modern."&lt;br /&gt;It is an art... losing.  I think we are in error when we call unfortunate people "Losers".  One must posses something first in order to lose it.  Most so called "losers" never "have".  It takes courage to embrace failure, accept rejection, endure embarrassment. As Leo Tolstoy once said, "The most common and the most widely used deceit is the wish to deceive not other people, but yourself.  And this kind of life is the most harmful."  Perhaps those who have learned to lose are the most fortunate. &lt;br /&gt;Put that in your pot and spank it! (Just Kidding!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-6088258319715382432?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/6088258319715382432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=6088258319715382432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/6088258319715382432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/6088258319715382432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/09/poetry-corner.html' title='Poetry Corner'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-1916427520236796732</id><published>2006-09-20T19:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-20T19:39:42.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Art</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/597/1105042923270909/1600/one%20art.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/597/1105042923270909/320/one%20art.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-1916427520236796732?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/1916427520236796732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=1916427520236796732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/1916427520236796732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/1916427520236796732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/09/blog-post.html' title='One Art'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-3955928620251048825</id><published>2006-09-14T22:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-14T23:07:31.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today Is A Bad Day</title><content type='html'>I am really not happy today.  McDonald's has decided to discontinue my favourite kind of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;McNugget&lt;/span&gt; dipping sauce.  Sure, in the grand scheme of things this is fairly minor.  As a good friend pointed out, I "don't have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;syphilis&lt;/span&gt; or cancer or something really bad."  But that is not the point.  To add insult to injury the inside of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;McNugget&lt;/span&gt; container said "change is good."  Change is not always good!!!  Change is just different, and sometimes what we value about bad food like McDonald's is that it is always the same.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;McNuggets&lt;/span&gt; are comfort food not, "Hey let's try something exciting and different" food.  I thought I knew where I stood with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;McNuggets&lt;/span&gt; yesterday.  Now I just don't know.&lt;br /&gt;I can try to tell myself that I don't need the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;McNuggets&lt;/span&gt;, that I'm too good for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;McNuggets&lt;/span&gt; anyway, or that everything happens for a reason and that maybe this is all for the best.  The fact of the matter is that I want hot mustard dipping sauce and it's not available and that sucks!  Oh, who am I kidding...this isn't just about dipping sauce.  I'm tired of constantly losing the few battles that I choose to fight!  Nice girls sometimes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;finish&lt;/span&gt; last, without hot mustard sauce while some "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;fillies&lt;/span&gt;" trot through life blissfully unaware of just how fortunate they are.  Just once I'd like to get what I want.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-3955928620251048825?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/3955928620251048825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=3955928620251048825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3955928620251048825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3955928620251048825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/09/today-is-bad-day.html' title='Today Is A Bad Day'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-3583494841951635942</id><published>2006-09-10T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-10T17:51:08.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't We All Just Get Along!</title><content type='html'>Many moons ago I signed up for internet service with AOL Canada.  I knew many people at the time who were also subscribers and it was easier to keep in contact with them on AOL.  Now everyone I know has MSN messenger and I too am trying to jump on that band wagon.  AOL and MSN do not like each other apparently and I am having a difficult time signing onto MSN using AOL.  :O(  Now Noree is out of the loop because of the stupid rivalry between two mega corporations!!  I am peeved!  Can't we all just get along for the sake of the children (aka Me!).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-3583494841951635942?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/3583494841951635942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=3583494841951635942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3583494841951635942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/3583494841951635942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/09/cant-we-all-just-get-along.html' title='Can&apos;t We All Just Get Along!'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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-9052511627435287125.post-624073824120396313</id><published>2006-09-09T17:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T17:29:46.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The premiere of "Runs With Scissors"</title><content type='html'>Blogging is hip!  So I've heard anyhoo.  I have been reluctant to start a blog, thinking that perhaps I haven't anything interesting to say.  There is, however, something cathartic about speaking mindlessly to an unknown audience.  It is like having a conversation with the universe.  Not the people of the universe but rather the universe itself.  Is that pretentious?  Definitely.  Do I care?  Not enough to stop the dialogue...or monologue.  If the universe does not respond I'm okay with that.  I'm just putting the words out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9052511627435287125-624073824120396313?l=noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/feeds/624073824120396313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9052511627435287125&amp;postID=624073824120396313' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/624073824120396313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9052511627435287125/posts/default/624073824120396313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noree-runswithscissors.blogspot.com/2006/09/premiere-of-runs-with-scissors.html' title='The premiere of &quot;Runs With Scissors&quot;'/><author><name>Noree</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15697404692203326178</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>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
