<?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-2224792271471858628</id><updated>2011-12-27T14:20:15.577-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MicGruber</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2224792271471858628/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Micaela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02981832031241292892</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>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2224792271471858628.post-8726965385785895258</id><published>2009-11-22T15:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T16:01:51.030-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When I grow up.......</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I think we've all said this  numerous time throughout our lives..... Well, what do you want to be. . . . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I am pretty sure I want to be a little bit of everything. . . . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I use to want to be a teacher, but that ended once I was in High School and Math became hard and I suddenly became uninterested.  And you can tell by my writing that my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;grammar&lt;/span&gt;  wasn't the greatest either. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Then It was a Vet!   Why, because I love animals and I thought what a better way to spend my day than with animals..... I didn't take in to account the 8 yrs of schooling.....  So I now have 2 cats that I spend every day with.  ( no i am not the cat lady! trust me!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;could've&lt;/span&gt; been a Hair dresser like my mom and my sister....  But &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I do my friends hair for them, It's always exciting the first 5 &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt;, Anything over that I am kinda over it.  Thus, I would never hold up in a salon. Unless people only wanted half of there hair done......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;In 11&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade (01-03 school yr) I decided....... I was going to be a chef! Le Cordon &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bleu&lt;/span&gt; here I come.  How this really came about, I am not sure... But  I really liked stirring things.  When I would help my mom cook all i really wanted to do was stir, then she could do the rest.   So this was a pretty sure thing. I was all set to start in July of 03 just 2 months after I graduated High School. !!!!!!  I even told them in my interview that I didn't mind getting fat ( because according to them chefs tend to gain weight)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Then one morning I woke up and changed my mind. Writing Le Cordon &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bleu&lt;/span&gt; a letter explaining that it wasn't in my heart to go to school to be a chef and they could give up my spot at the school.     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;So what was in my heart?......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;California, Hollywood, Acting, Performing, Entertaining! Something I had done my whole life.  So on Oct. 3rd I found myself in Sherman Oaks, CA..... nervous, sad, lonely, scared and excited all at the same time.   But determined to make things happen. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Here in the City of Angels everyone I met practically had the dreams I had.  Which makes things interesting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;6 yrs later I am still out here. And have had my share of  jobs: Grocery store Manager, Waitress, Bartender, Sorting panties at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Victoria's&lt;/span&gt; Secret, Catering jobs, and personal trainer!   If you ask me now what I wanna be when I grow up. I'd probably tell you I just want to be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;successful&lt;/span&gt; at whatever I do and be happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;So ..... As I sit at the stop light of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Sepulveda&lt;/span&gt; and National blvd, I watch a sign twirler. Wearing a pizza hut shirt and his sign reading something about special on pizza.  At first I thought, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hhhhmmm&lt;/span&gt; wow, I would hate that job. Then I continued to watch... And this younger  man was really enjoying himself. He had an I-pod in and was rocking out.  It seemed to me he didn't have a care in the world. As he did a dance move that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;involved&lt;/span&gt; a twirl and throwing the sign in the air, I found myself wondering What song he was listening to? It had to be good, so good to make him close his eyes and bust a move.   Moral of this little story..... He was Happy, He was getting paid and he had a smile on his face. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;So who cares what your wanted to be, or if you are what you want to be when you grow up. Just ask yourself..... Are you Happy? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;And if you find yourself to not be happy.... do something about it..... because your the only one who can fix that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Cheers!!! And pay attention to those sign twirlers....... they might make you smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2224792271471858628-8726965385785895258?l=micgruber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/feeds/8726965385785895258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/2009/11/when-i-grow-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2224792271471858628/posts/default/8726965385785895258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2224792271471858628/posts/default/8726965385785895258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/2009/11/when-i-grow-up.html' title='When I grow up.......'/><author><name>Micaela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02981832031241292892</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-2224792271471858628.post-8972374192707486325</id><published>2009-11-04T21:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T22:19:37.980-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SOMETIMES</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;These are a bunch of random thoughts or things I do sometimes.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes,&lt;/strong&gt; I think everyone is much nicer when they have there Halloween costumes on. Then the next day we all put on our "normal people" clothes and everyone sticks there nose up in the air and can't remember how to be friendly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes,&lt;/strong&gt; I pretend that my shifter in my car is really a stick shift and I pretend to change gears, which makes me feel like I am going much faster. Then I turn up a rock song and sing really loud and pretend my car is a really bad ass car. It seems to get me to my destination much faster and I feel pretty cool. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes,&lt;/strong&gt; when I go to Starbucks I don't use my real name because the employees are always confused and want me to spell it..... I might be a Betty, or a Beth, or a Kelly.... and then I laugh inside when I pick up my tasty drink.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes,&lt;/strong&gt; I let my hair dry natural and put a Shakira song on and pretend I am her. But I haven't gotten the sexy part down...... But my hair looks like hers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes,&lt;/strong&gt; I lose track of how many reps my client has done and then I make it up..... And when they call me out on it I act like I've been counting the whole time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes,&lt;/strong&gt; When I am on the phone I look in the mirror and make funny faces, or act like I am really shocked about something  the other person said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes,&lt;/strong&gt; Ok, maybe more than sometimes I have a dance party in my apartment with myself.!! and maybe the creepy neighbor across the way can see me, but i don't care. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes,&lt;/strong&gt; I really like running errands and it makes me feel super important.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes&lt;/strong&gt;, I pretend that I don't know what movie I got in the mail from Netflix, even though I got an email telling me which one they are shipping. I like surprises!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes&lt;/strong&gt;, When I am home I just put on the TV for some company.... and no this doesn't mean I am lonely, it just means i like noise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;OK, I think this might be enough Sometimes for now. Enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2224792271471858628-8972374192707486325?l=micgruber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/feeds/8972374192707486325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/2009/11/sometimes.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2224792271471858628/posts/default/8972374192707486325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2224792271471858628/posts/default/8972374192707486325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/2009/11/sometimes.html' title='SOMETIMES'/><author><name>Micaela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02981832031241292892</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-2224792271471858628.post-8346923157682260828</id><published>2009-10-20T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T21:16:59.735-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's about time.</title><content type='html'>Since the last entry I had a birthday. A BIG birthday.... I am 25 yrs. old! And I am not one to say one year old feels so different. But. . .&lt;br /&gt;As of Oct. 17th... I feel different, different about my life, my job, my goals.  I feel as though i may have a new outlook on things.&lt;br /&gt;When I was 24 I definitely freaked out about the small stuff, I felt like I've lived the whole last year trying to be someone i maybe wasn't, and trying to make everyone else happy around me. And i was exhausted and done with that whole feeling.&lt;br /&gt;Mind you I've been 25 for 3 days. I have a mission and i am not stopping until I've completed it. I will not be focusing on things that are not in my control. And i am going to roll with whatever comes my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And keep following because there will be many more blogs now. I promise.&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2224792271471858628-8346923157682260828?l=micgruber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/feeds/8346923157682260828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-about-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2224792271471858628/posts/default/8346923157682260828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2224792271471858628/posts/default/8346923157682260828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-about-time.html' title='It&apos;s about time.'/><author><name>Micaela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02981832031241292892</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-2224792271471858628.post-5395185827897674803</id><published>2009-08-20T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T10:56:21.395-07:00</updated><title type='text'>STRESS</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Stress......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;We all know it, live it , breath it and deal with it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;How we all deal with it is different.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Some eat their stress away..... others workout... and  some take it out on the ones they love the most. Or you may be one of the people who yells out the window at the people driving bad in there car, or blows up on the girl in the supermarket line. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Now when you eat your stress away..... does it really make things disappear? No.  But for  a few minutes you feel ease you feel that you have no worries in life. And then you look over next to you and see the bag of Peanut M &amp;amp; M's, empty can of Mt. Dew,  a slice of Pizza and a coupon that was calling your name for Yogurtland...... which all equals a not so good feeling. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;When you workout... it's more like you are getting out your aggression. You can run for an hour, or  maybe do yoga and feel better. Yes, this may help you deal with your stress but the stress won't go away. It's still waiting there for you when you get back home.  The good thing about squeezing in a workout is that it may prevent you from blowing up at someone you don't want to or crying when  a little something goes wrong  that at that moment seems like it's the end of the world. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;As for the other methods..... of how we each deal with stress..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Taking it out on the one you love.  Now most people just say that comes with the territory. But if you think about it. It's only going to make your special someone angry or stress, which then in turn will make you more stressed because you will feel guilty for being rude or unkind to them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;For the innocent bystander who get's  you (a big ball of stress) in line at the supermarket, or behind them  driving down the road.  Nine times out of ten, they don't know you, they have problems of there own to deal with  and yet you unload on them.   Mind you it's not there problem, that you didn't get enough sleep , or your special someone and you got in a fight, or that you didn't get that promotion that you wanted at work. It's not even there problem that you are stress. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;I know we are all stressed for different reasons, and some more than others.  Some handle it, some breakdown when it get's to be to much. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;So take a deep breath, punch a pillow, dance it off, sing at the top of your lungs, do whatever will make you smile.   And think  just a second before you unload your stress on someones shoulder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2224792271471858628-5395185827897674803?l=micgruber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/feeds/5395185827897674803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/2009/08/stress.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2224792271471858628/posts/default/5395185827897674803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2224792271471858628/posts/default/5395185827897674803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/2009/08/stress.html' title='STRESS'/><author><name>Micaela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02981832031241292892</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-2224792271471858628.post-1792237717936248092</id><published>2009-08-09T19:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T16:02:01.829-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today I've decided to start writing a blog. Mind you this is a pretty big decision. And with that said, My first blog to you is a Warning.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#33ccff;"&gt;If you choose to subscribe to this amazing little diddy of a blog you must be ok with a spelling error here and there.  Maybe even  not so proper grammar or weird phrases.  I must say this isn't due to the fact that I attended a small school back in Minnesota, this is just because i tend to not proofread things or spell check things for no reason really. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#33ccff;"&gt;I write emails, letters, and now blogs pretty much how I talk in everyday life. Which could be interesting or could be a little odd. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#33ccff;"&gt;This blog for me is to talk about things i find interesting, or things going on around the world or my life. I have no limits so if you would like to have me write something shoot me an email. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#33ccff;"&gt;I  hope you laugh, giggle, and pee a little if things get funny.  Enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2224792271471858628-1792237717936248092?l=micgruber.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/feeds/1792237717936248092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/2009/08/today-ive-decided-to-start-writing-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2224792271471858628/posts/default/1792237717936248092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2224792271471858628/posts/default/1792237717936248092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://micgruber.blogspot.com/2009/08/today-ive-decided-to-start-writing-blog.html' title=''/><author><name>Micaela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02981832031241292892</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></feed>
