<?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-1721936439132892940</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:37:41.139-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something to talk about.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debsworld78.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1721936439132892940/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debsworld78.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Debbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TLuMNR1DKPM/SbHiaN8VaKI/AAAAAAAAAAc/d3QxNNmb_Zo/S220/gator1.bmp'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1721936439132892940.post-1978820904875063289</id><published>2009-03-08T17:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T18:05:24.999-07:00</updated><title type='text'>boys.</title><content type='html'>I am so frustared with my older boy. He is 13, and is getting way to big for his pants. Tonight he just rub me all sorts of wrong ways. I asked him to take the trash out, he needed to sit down for a minute. About 1o mins later and jumping on him to do it, he finally did. Then when I cooked dinner all I heard was how nasty it was. So I told him to don't eat, go to bed hungry, doesn't bother me. Then he wanted to know if I did any laundry! That sent me over the edge. I told him I am his mother not his slave, and I am not the only one in this damn family that knows how to work the machine!! Maybe I am to hard, but when I was 13 I was doing my own laundry. And I refuse to raise an helpless lazy boy....but so far that isn't going well. So either he can go to school naked or wear diry clothes to school, eventually he will get the point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1721936439132892940-1978820904875063289?l=debsworld78.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debsworld78.blogspot.com/feeds/1978820904875063289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1721936439132892940&amp;postID=1978820904875063289' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1721936439132892940/posts/default/1978820904875063289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1721936439132892940/posts/default/1978820904875063289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debsworld78.blogspot.com/2009/03/boys.html' title='boys.'/><author><name>Debbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TLuMNR1DKPM/SbHiaN8VaKI/AAAAAAAAAAc/d3QxNNmb_Zo/S220/gator1.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1721936439132892940.post-2796373626050946550</id><published>2009-03-06T19:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T19:07:55.839-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes I feel like I just blend into the background. That I don't exist. I hear other people talk about hanging out with their friends, going shopping etc.etc. I am not throwing my self a pity party, but sometimes I wonder what is wrong with me? The only "friends" I have are the ones at work, and they are really great. But out side of work, I am alone. I have my hubby, and my mom. And we are really close. I can tell her just about anything, but sometimes thats not enough. My neigbor is a real nice lady and we talk, but its not like we are best friends. Alot of times I wish I was still in highschool when I have several best friends. God those were the days. But even those relationships took years to build. I just feel like there is a void somewhere. I love my kids, my hubby, my family and my job, but thats all there is to my life. I don't know, I guess I am in just a funk....this too shall pass, it has before.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1721936439132892940-2796373626050946550?l=debsworld78.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debsworld78.blogspot.com/feeds/2796373626050946550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1721936439132892940&amp;postID=2796373626050946550' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1721936439132892940/posts/default/2796373626050946550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1721936439132892940/posts/default/2796373626050946550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debsworld78.blogspot.com/2009/03/sometimes-i-feel-like-i-just-blend-into.html' title=''/><author><name>Debbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TLuMNR1DKPM/SbHiaN8VaKI/AAAAAAAAAAc/d3QxNNmb_Zo/S220/gator1.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1721936439132892940.post-5994852781329659242</id><published>2008-10-08T15:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T16:01:19.201-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;"&gt;Why is it that on mornings  that  I wake up 2hours before I have to go to work. I always end up leaving at the time I am suppose to be at work.  Then I all ass to work, at 430 in the morning, hoping I don't have to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;explain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;"&gt; to the officer why I was speeding.   But then on the few &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;times  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;I wake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;"&gt; up extremely late, I can get ready for work and some how make it there on time? This just drives my husband up the wall.   I guess knowing I have a few hours to goof of, I get &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;involved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;"&gt; in either the computer, or a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;"&gt; show I recorded, thinking &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;I have&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;"&gt; plenty of time to  watch it all.  But I never do. So I guess I would be off getting up about 10 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: webdings;"&gt; before work to be able to get there on time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1721936439132892940-5994852781329659242?l=debsworld78.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debsworld78.blogspot.com/feeds/5994852781329659242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1721936439132892940&amp;postID=5994852781329659242' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1721936439132892940/posts/default/5994852781329659242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1721936439132892940/posts/default/5994852781329659242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debsworld78.blogspot.com/2008/10/why-is-it-that-on-mornings-that-i-wake.html' title=''/><author><name>Debbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TLuMNR1DKPM/SbHiaN8VaKI/AAAAAAAAAAc/d3QxNNmb_Zo/S220/gator1.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1721936439132892940.post-5796280325545501322</id><published>2008-10-04T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T19:18:32.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Horror Movies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Lately&lt;/span&gt; I have been watching a lot of so called Horror/Thriller Movies on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Fearnet&lt;/span&gt;. And I have come to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;realize&lt;/span&gt; that 90% of them suck. The movie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;carry's&lt;/span&gt; on really good, but the ending's leave you going &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt;?   I did watch one I thought was really good, very suspenseful, even my kids liked it. It was "Seven Days to Live".  It kept you wondering if both &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;characters&lt;/span&gt; are going crazy, or just one. Is what is happening real or is it in their heads. I don't want to give the movie away. but this is one of the ones that didn't really leave you hanging.&lt;br /&gt;I am hoping with Halloween coming up that there will be some really good movies on. But out of the 10 I have recently watched, This was the only one  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;I Would&lt;/span&gt; watch again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1721936439132892940-5796280325545501322?l=debsworld78.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://debsworld78.blogspot.com/feeds/5796280325545501322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1721936439132892940&amp;postID=5796280325545501322' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1721936439132892940/posts/default/5796280325545501322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1721936439132892940/posts/default/5796280325545501322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://debsworld78.blogspot.com/2008/10/horror-movies.html' title='Horror Movies'/><author><name>Debbie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TLuMNR1DKPM/SbHiaN8VaKI/AAAAAAAAAAc/d3QxNNmb_Zo/S220/gator1.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
