<?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-1768385018995268846</id><updated>2012-01-23T21:05:09.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Ramblings</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-1472600289849906038</id><published>2010-01-17T21:35:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T22:06:51.794-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Roaring 20's</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Last night I went to a "Roaring 20's" themed birthday party and it was the cat's meow and how! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was the customary gourmet layout of food, an open bar "non-alcoholic" of course, not only do none of us drink, but the party was set during the Prohibition Era. Globe laterns festooned the back patio and croquet was set out on the lawn. Everything at the party looked on the level but the best, aboslute best part of the party was the "speakeasy" set-up in the garage. To enter you had to give a special knock and password. Upon entrance you were given chips with which you could bet on a high-stakes game of bingo, turtle races or guinea pig races. For the record, my guinea pig and turtle kicked serious behind but I won only 1 out of 8 games of bingo...not such good odds, but it was fun. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427940440907620658" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/S1PrEpJGoTI/AAAAAAAAAOA/B3LEEzQg7gg/s400/DSC02036.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since a flapper outfit was required, I spent most of Friday evening browsing Goodwill and about 5 other stores before settling on an outfit. End result...I was a doll dressed up in glad rags for the night. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427940451247596114" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/S1PrFPqWIlI/AAAAAAAAAOI/H5FqTEYyoiM/s400/DSC02037.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, it was quite copacetic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there were any sayings that you didn't quite get, I cheated and used this 1920's slang website &lt;a href="http://local.aaca.org/bntc/slang/slang.htm"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-1472600289849906038?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/1472600289849906038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=1472600289849906038' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/1472600289849906038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/1472600289849906038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2010/01/roaring-20s.html' title='Roaring 20&apos;s'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/S1PrEpJGoTI/AAAAAAAAAOA/B3LEEzQg7gg/s72-c/DSC02036.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-2935036317508529212</id><published>2010-01-14T18:30:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T18:44:34.134-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What I Learned at Work Today</title><content type='html'> Always keep a phone in your pocket&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Be friendly with your neighbors, you never know when they’ll come in handy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; When something goes horribly wrong, try to have a good attitude…it makes the situation better&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; If you find yourself with time on your hands, find ways to be productive.  Some examples include pulling apart leaves, splitting seed pods, or counting the number of passing drivers who are texting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; If someone gives you a funny look, don’t explain unless they specifically ask.  It’s more fun keeping them wondering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Be careful who you owe favors to.  Even if your creepy neighbors helps you out, butt smacks are never appropriate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And most importantly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Never, ever, ever under any circumstances lock your keys and phone in your car with the engine running.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-2935036317508529212?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/2935036317508529212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=2935036317508529212' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/2935036317508529212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/2935036317508529212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2010/01/what-i-learned-at-work-today.html' title='What I Learned at Work Today'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-6547416685740537037</id><published>2010-01-08T17:15:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T12:44:52.437-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick Update</title><content type='html'>I currently live with two roommates, Sandy and Mari.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/S0jb0jOyjDI/AAAAAAAAANw/VxeSXheCxqI/s1600-h/DSC02031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/S0jb0jOyjDI/AAAAAAAAANw/VxeSXheCxqI/s400/DSC02031.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424827447024716850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't we adorable?  Okay, so I realized we had no pictures of the three of us together, grabbed a camera and gave them not choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a pretty good time and even spent last weekend decorating the house (because I'm a lazy decorater) but more on that later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still loving life in east Mesa and have been keeping busy and out of trouble...for the most part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now some pictures of what completely overwhelmed my life for two months...and I do mean life and not just working hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE dreaded GREENBUILD CONFERENCE&lt;br /&gt;My company bid and won the opportunity to provide plants to the various vendors coming to a tradeshow hosted by the Greenbuild Convention in Phoenix (if you want to know more about what that is go &lt;a href="http://www.greenbuildexpo.org/Home.aspx"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;Most Ambius branches employ 20-30 people and a convention this size would be taxing to pull off, but manageable.  There are three of us in Phoenix and two have very demanding service schedules, leaving a majority of the planning, preping, and stressing to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it took every spare moment I had, many late nights, working weekends, helpers coming in from San Diego (our parent branch) and Florida but it all came together and looking pretty darn good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pics of the infamous week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/S0fVWtjwL-I/AAAAAAAAANQ/d2g1FZztkCc/s1600-h/Phoenix_grnbld_-_almost_done%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/S0fVWtjwL-I/AAAAAAAAANQ/d2g1FZztkCc/s400/Phoenix_grnbld_-_almost_done%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424538862354444258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See that smile?  I'm smiling because it's 8:30 at night and I've been working since 6...but the end is in sight.  Only another hour and a half and I'd be tucked in bed, recuperating and getting barely enough sleep to do it all over again the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/S0fVXvCv3hI/AAAAAAAAANg/z4v6eTji0dY/s1600-h/Phoenix_Grnbld_-_rental_trk_1%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/S0fVXvCv3hI/AAAAAAAAANg/z4v6eTji0dY/s400/Phoenix_Grnbld_-_rental_trk_1%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424538879932751378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My fearless branch manager driving one of our rented trucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/S0fVYBhrpmI/AAAAAAAAANo/_9iYKadqmYc/s1600-h/Phoenix_Grnbld_-_day_2%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/S0fVYBhrpmI/AAAAAAAAANo/_9iYKadqmYc/s400/Phoenix_Grnbld_-_day_2%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424538884894336610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is only about half the plants we used.  It isn't even our warehouse, the neighboring business graciously let us takeover his space for the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/S0fVXHVl1zI/AAAAAAAAANY/DIgijm0-mFk/s1600-h/Phoenix%2520_Greenbuild_pond%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/S0fVXHVl1zI/AAAAAAAAANY/DIgijm0-mFk/s400/Phoenix%2520_Greenbuild_pond%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424538869274367794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one of the many exhibits we put together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was one of those "growing experiences" that I look back and wonder how we were able to pull it off but am strangely grateful for the opportunity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-6547416685740537037?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/6547416685740537037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=6547416685740537037' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6547416685740537037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6547416685740537037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2010/01/quick-update.html' title='Quick Update'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/S0jb0jOyjDI/AAAAAAAAANw/VxeSXheCxqI/s72-c/DSC02031.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-7941784355230633590</id><published>2010-01-05T15:17:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T19:15:03.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unapologetic</title><content type='html'>Right, I know...by now everyone has given up even checking this blog because let's face it, I have been very, very bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I think I may be over it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, a while back several people in a very short time span told me I have no life (hence nothing to blog about) because I have no family of my own.  I'm sure my brother, sisters, parents and rather large extended family will be shocked to know I am of no relation,  but that's another topic for another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I let their comments get the best of me and found various excuses as to why I had nothing to write about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then it dawned on me, life is only as exciting as you make it and I have blog worthy things happen quite often.  And true, My life may not be exactly what I imagined but I do have a life, a pretty good life if I do say so myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am, returning to the blogosphere.  No, I will not be posting every day and yes, I probably will go through another dry spell.  But for now I'm excited about sharing my experiences and my frequent vents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to the new year and new lease on blogging!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-7941784355230633590?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/7941784355230633590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=7941784355230633590' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/7941784355230633590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/7941784355230633590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2010/01/unapologetic.html' title='Unapologetic'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-8500263358981288048</id><published>2009-08-09T16:14:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T16:18:54.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's In a Safe Place, a Super Safe Place</title><content type='html'>You know when you put something away, intentionally thinking "there's no way I'll forget that I put this item right here."&lt;br /&gt;Well, it never works out so well for me.  Take for instance right now.  I've been invited to a going away party tonight and am excited about bringing some homemade &lt;a href="http://www.recipezaar.com/Baked-Caramel-Corn-3272"&gt;caramel corn&lt;/a&gt;.  Only problem is, I have no idea where my popping corn is.  The saddest part is I had a really hard time finding it last time I made this recipe and remember thinking, I need to put this in an spot I'll have an easier time remembering.   IT DIDN'T WORK.&lt;br /&gt;So, now I'm going to tear my kitchen and pantry apart.  Good Times!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-8500263358981288048?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/8500263358981288048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=8500263358981288048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/8500263358981288048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/8500263358981288048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-in-safe-place-super-safe-place.html' title='It&apos;s In a Safe Place, a Super Safe Place'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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-1768385018995268846.post-5137469656873467864</id><published>2009-07-31T19:02:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T07:06:10.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiatus</title><content type='html'>As you can see, after a three month hiatus I've finally dedicated some time to updating my blog. And yes Alicia, I will be post- dating entries to make it look like I've been good about keeping up with things even though I've been horribly negligent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are links to the most recent posts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/05/colorado-dreaming.html"&gt;Colorado Dreaming&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-all-about-ringfinger.html"&gt;It's All About the Ring...Finger&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/06/this-just-in.html"&gt;This Just In&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-is-truth-universally-acknowledged.html"&gt;It Is a Truth Universally Acknowledged&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/07/why-home-depot-is-on-my-crap-list.html"&gt;Why Home Depot is on My Crap List&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm working on a few more that I'll post a link to here once completed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-5137469656873467864?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/5137469656873467864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=5137469656873467864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/5137469656873467864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/5137469656873467864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/07/hiatus.html' title='Hiatus'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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-1768385018995268846.post-6792771542993886745</id><published>2009-07-22T18:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T07:01:01.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Home Depot is On My Crap List...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SnOiA7e08mI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Fs1ZVfr22qM/s1600-h/home-depot-logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364809717979083362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 156px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 162px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SnOiA7e08mI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Fs1ZVfr22qM/s200/home-depot-logo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick back story. I have a coporate credit card through my company for Home Depot. Whenever I need supplies or am in a pinch with plant material, I head over to the closest Home Depot and pick up what I need. Now, I think I've been to just about every single HOme Depot in the Phoenix area and I definitely have my favorites, but there are two that are high-ranking on my crap list and here are letters explaining why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the Home Depot closest to my office,&lt;br /&gt;You always seems to know when I'm running late or just having a bad day. Like the one day where I thought my world was crumbling down on me, I had already worked 11 hours, and all I needed was a bag of perlite before heading home. For some reason, your store keeps the perlite on the top shelf in the gardening section and can only be reached by a ladder. So, I asked the associate in the gardening section to move the huge ladder 10 ft (and I'm not even exaggerating, it was literally 10 feet away) to help me get the bag. He tells me he's not able to move the ladder and calls for assistance. Twenty minutes and several reminders later I'm still waiting, a crying frustrated mess, dump everything in my cart, and walk out.&lt;br /&gt;This morning I purchased some soil and gravel and asked for help to load my van. I was running late and the thought of loading everything by myself was daunting. In the 30 ft walk from the register to the loading zone, two of your associates passed off my cart to someone lower on the chain because they didn't want to be bothered loading a vehicle. May I remind you that it was 6 am and I was probably the only customer in the store, it's not like they had a lot going on.&lt;br /&gt;In summary, your store's customer service is awful. I have never been treated so poorly and have gone 30 minutes out of my way to avoid shopping at your store. Please either train your employees better or have them wear buttons that say "I really don't care about you" so customers know what to expect when they ask for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the Home Depot on Thomas,&lt;br /&gt;The beginning of this story is my fault. Utterly and completely, I am willing to admit that. How it was handled and what happened in the end is 100% your fault and inexcusable.&lt;br /&gt;A month, let me repeat that A MONTH, ago I left my wallet in a shopping cart. I had other things on my mind while loading my van and didn't realize it until 20 minutes later. I headed straight back to the store and saw my cart, but no wallet. I spoke with the customer service people, the head cashier, the head parking lot attendant, the cashier in the gardening section, and the book keeping office. No one had seen or heard anything about it. Walkie-talkies were whipped out, calls made, questions asked, but no wallet. After kicking myself for being so stupid, I began the grueling task of rebuilding my wallet. Credit cards were canceled, new drivers license obtained, and I realized how stupid my bank is (long side, story about how Wells Fargo couldn't issue me an ATM card at the local branch should be inserted here, but just thinking about it upsets me). In my hopeful moments, I called the store everyday for a week checking to see if my wallet had been turned in by some miracle... nothing.&lt;br /&gt;To add to the stress of the situation, I was going out of town the next week and I was having nightmares that I wouldn't have access to money before leaving on vacation. Did I mention that I lived a week by bumming $20 from a roommate? Yeah, that was pretty sweet.&lt;br /&gt;Jump to yesterday. I received a hand-written letter in the mail saying the store had my wallet and I could come pick it up. UM, EXCUSE ME!!! Did my three contact numbers not work? Trying to be grateful that I had my old wallet and the sentimental things that I was most upset about losing went out the window when I went to pick up the wallet and 1)the customer service attendant came out of her shell to ask what I wanted after waiting a good five minutes 2)customer service attendant was snotty and not very helpful and 3) there was nothing wrong with my wallet. Here's my rationale, if someone had taken my wallet and dumped it when they realized there was nothing of value in there, wouldn't there be some sign of wear and tear to the wallet? Am I just going crazy here? There was NOTHING missing, no credit card, no license, even my $2 was still there. Why was I notified after a month. There is no way I can believe that my wallet was found on the Home Depot property after a month and there was no damage from exposure to the wallet or the items inside the wallet.&lt;br /&gt;My feeling is your store needs a better system to restore lost property to the owner. And if someone leaves every number she can possibly be reached, please have the courtesy to call instead of sending a letter. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-6792771542993886745?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/6792771542993886745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=6792771542993886745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6792771542993886745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6792771542993886745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/07/why-home-depot-is-on-my-crap-list.html' title='Why Home Depot is On My Crap List...'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SnOiA7e08mI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Fs1ZVfr22qM/s72-c/home-depot-logo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-1445452231188871790</id><published>2009-07-16T18:30:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T07:00:54.761-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It is a Truth Universally Acknowledged...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To say that I love Jane Austen's works would be an understatement. I can remeber one of the best gifts I've ever received being the complete works of Jane Austen. I've spent countless hours reading and re-reading those stories. Everytime, I gain a new appreciation for her wit and sense of humor. Then there are the movies...there is nothing better than sitting down with a bunch of girls to watch 5 hours of Mr Darcy or either of the two most recent versions of Persuasion. Just thinking about it brings a smile to my face. Although an 80's version of Northanger Abbey was a little too cheesy and melodramatic for my taste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine my horror when I was perusing Amazon and found a book called "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies"? My initial reaction was shock, outrage, anger, horror, and curiousity. How could they do such a thing to a classic!! The front cover alone is a little scary, a woman's face with the bottom half melting away exposed the bone underneath. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SnOisWlxOEI/AAAAAAAAAMI/NOGKunidyLQ/s1600-h/ppz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364810463990331458" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 132px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SnOisWlxOEI/AAAAAAAAAMI/NOGKunidyLQ/s200/ppz.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon closer examination, I must admit I am a little intrigued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can you go wrong with summaries such as this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In what’s described as an “expanded edition” of Pride and Prejudice, 85 percent of the original text has been preserved but fused with “ultraviolent zombie mayhem.” For more than 50 years, we learn, England has been overrun by zombies, prompting people like the Bennets to send their daughters away to China for training in the art of deadly combat, and prompting others, like Lady Catherine de Bourgh, to employ armies of ninjas. Added to the familiar plot turns that bring Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy together is the fact that both are highly skilled killers, gleefully slaying zombies on the way to their happy ending."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or this spin on a classic line: "It is a truth universally acknowledged that a zombie in possession of brains must be in want of more brains&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For better or worse, I've gone ahead and requested the book from the library. It had a suprisingly long wait list and hopefully I get my copy in the next little while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the mean time, has anyone read it... thought/feelings? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-1445452231188871790?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/1445452231188871790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=1445452231188871790' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/1445452231188871790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/1445452231188871790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-is-truth-universally-acknowledged.html' title='It is a Truth Universally Acknowledged...'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SnOisWlxOEI/AAAAAAAAAMI/NOGKunidyLQ/s72-c/ppz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-5219867003315364236</id><published>2009-06-29T18:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T07:00:46.525-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Just In!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SnOXEkbIdUI/AAAAAAAAAL4/2eYkhAwbmPU/s1600-h/thermometer.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 152px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 259px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364797685881140546" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SnOXEkbIdUI/AAAAAAAAAL4/2eYkhAwbmPU/s320/thermometer.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was checking out a local news website and this headline made me stop and stare:&lt;br /&gt;"It's Hot and Might Get Hotter"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...duh. I don't know if anyone has ever told this news site, but we're located in Arizona, of course it's hot. Plus, I don't think I'd call 100 in June unusually hot. It's been an unseasonably cool June and we have nowhere to go but up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other late-breaking new: the earth is round, bell bottoms are out of fashion, and N'Sync has broken up. Shockers, I know. &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/1768385018995268846-5219867003315364236?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/5219867003315364236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=5219867003315364236' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/5219867003315364236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/5219867003315364236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/06/this-just-in.html' title='This Just In!'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SnOXEkbIdUI/AAAAAAAAAL4/2eYkhAwbmPU/s72-c/thermometer.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-3902839543960049821</id><published>2009-06-15T16:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T07:00:33.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's All About the Ring...Finger</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This week has been quite a hectic one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my roommates (&lt;a href="http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/11/why-single-wards-are-ridiculous.html"&gt;of Love Connection infamy&lt;/a&gt;) has recently gotten engaged. Huge Congrats go out to her and her fiance!&lt;br /&gt;Not to be outdone, my other roommate decided to have her own ring finger drama. While out wedding dress shopping with engaged roommate, her finger had gotten caught in the car door and the tip sliced off. An ambulance ride, stay in the ER, and finger surgery later she was back at home recuperating. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SnOn34OxBwI/AAAAAAAAAMY/MsotTpUUGlg/s1600-h/DSC01719.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364816159557355266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SnOn34OxBwI/AAAAAAAAAMY/MsotTpUUGlg/s200/DSC01719.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So to celebrate the one announcement and alleviate the pain of the other, we decided to through a "Ring Finger" party. We thought we were quite clever with the refreshments. Butterfingers, finger cookies, and other "finger" foods were on display. I think the finger cookies were the most talked about thing at the party. After two or three test batches, I think they started to look a lot more realistic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it was a great night. Congrats Heidi! Get Better Soon Sandy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364814995104500146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SnOm0GTkibI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/xDRvEzFtk5g/s200/DSC01717.JPG" border="0" /&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/1768385018995268846-3902839543960049821?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/3902839543960049821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=3902839543960049821' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/3902839543960049821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/3902839543960049821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-all-about-ringfinger.html' title='It&apos;s All About the Ring...Finger'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SnOn34OxBwI/AAAAAAAAAMY/MsotTpUUGlg/s72-c/DSC01719.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-7507031262276767330</id><published>2009-05-01T18:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T07:00:18.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Colorado Dreaming</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt; You know things aren't good when everyone in your family is telling you to take a break and one good sister open her house to you.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so that's kind of a lie. I totally crashed Melissa's birthday present, but in my defense I did ask permission before buying the ticket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was off to Colorado for 5 glorious days of no work, 3 Bartholomew's together (always a scary thing), 3 adorable nieces, and one fabulous, long-suffering brother in law (thanks Eric).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were kept quite busy&lt;br /&gt;Going to the Museum of Nature and Science&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364890964653279250" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SnPr6G7ciBI/AAAAAAAAAMw/BvhqCuQvcv8/s200/DSC01656.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching Elizabeth's Soccer Game. Sadly I do not see a great future for her as a soccer phenomenom since she was more interested in running around in a circle than actually kicking the ball.&lt;br /&gt;But check out Rachel's form...she an amazing goalie in the making!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364890960939355778" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SnPr55F-joI/AAAAAAAAAMo/PC_9DJpGSK0/s200/DSC01658.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melissa and I took the three nieces to Chuck E Cheese while Eric and Alicia were out. Can I just say I rocked the skee ball. It definitely is a different experience with little ones, it was amazing seeing how much fun they were having.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention Alicia promised me good weather.&lt;br /&gt;Does this look like good weather?!? &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364890969143730498" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SnPr6XqDYUI/AAAAAAAAAM4/Y_m3DuhXkjk/s200/DSC01670.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some other trip highlights were buffalo burgers, shopping with the girls, going to a family ward, being the favorite aunt (admit it Melissa, I won), staying up watching movies, taking 3-4 naps a day and being with perhaps 2 of the funniest people on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though my plane was almost 2 hours late getting back, I definitly felt refreshed and revitalized. Thanks Carlsens!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364890952364545154" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SnPr5ZJlVII/AAAAAAAAAMg/1izHJX1oAro/s200/DSC01668.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;As further proof of why I was favorite aunt of the trip, I found these pictures:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Melissa playing nice with the nieces&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364890976090694802" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SnPr6xiVpJI/AAAAAAAAANA/5kwvdKQ08g0/s200/DSC01677.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;What Melissa really thinks of her nieces&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364891691785473154" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SnPskbtRTII/AAAAAAAAANI/znoUIvxGTWY/s200/DSC01695.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-7507031262276767330?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/7507031262276767330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=7507031262276767330' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/7507031262276767330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/7507031262276767330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/05/colorado-dreaming.html' title='Colorado Dreaming'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SnPr6G7ciBI/AAAAAAAAAMw/BvhqCuQvcv8/s72-c/DSC01656.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-7109247673656503721</id><published>2009-04-22T14:43:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T14:46:47.322-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I Love You...</title><content type='html'>...and because today is my Friday and I'm already checked out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TOFps_Naytg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TOFps_Naytg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/1768385018995268846-7109247673656503721?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/7109247673656503721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=7109247673656503721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/7109247673656503721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/7109247673656503721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/04/because-i-love-you.html' title='Because I Love You...'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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-1768385018995268846.post-8747367608868158179</id><published>2009-04-08T16:50:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T17:13:16.918-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If I Were Superstitious...</title><content type='html'>...I would be running for the hills, looking for anyway to get rid of the hex that is hovering over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But since I'm not very superstitious, I'll just head to the closest T-Mobile store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, yesterday my phone threw a little... tantrum shall we say? All of a sudden, it began making beeping noises and searching for the interenet, even though I don't have internet capabilities. After countless efforts (powering on and off, removing and replacing the battery, screaming and shouting, whining and pleading) I kinda found out what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My phone is obsessed with the number 6. Whenever I try to make a call or send a text, the phone keeps dialing six and then trys to log onto the internet (haven't quite figured that part out yet). I don't know about you, but the number 6 is not very useful when it's the only number that works, and I don't even have to do anything for it to work. You can't spell many words with the letter M, N and O. So, I broke out my old phone and have been using that for the past 24 hours or so. I realize how much I had taken for granted as I stumble through trying to remember all the shortcuts and little idiosyncrasies this phone has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The silver lining on this dark cloud is I was able to salvage my phone book from my Razr. Oh Happy Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/Sd07QtiFfUI/AAAAAAAAALY/Gj0OHszwtTg/s1600-h/old.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322475492908301634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/Sd07QtiFfUI/AAAAAAAAALY/Gj0OHszwtTg/s320/old.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, I'm off to the T-Mobile store and hopefully will be able to stop using this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/Sd08Wklf-uI/AAAAAAAAALo/HA0wlYwXq2M/s1600-h/mot_razr_pink_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322476693097544418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 211px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/Sd08Wklf-uI/AAAAAAAAALo/HA0wlYwXq2M/s320/mot_razr_pink_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;And get back to this bad boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS Mine is not really pink, but it was the only picture I could find in a pinch&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-8747367608868158179?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/8747367608868158179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=8747367608868158179' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/8747367608868158179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/8747367608868158179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/04/if-i-were-superstitious.html' title='If I Were Superstitious...'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/Sd07QtiFfUI/AAAAAAAAALY/Gj0OHszwtTg/s72-c/old.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-4268558772383859250</id><published>2009-04-01T21:20:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T21:54:31.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ye Olde Faire</title><content type='html'>Every year from the beginning of February to the end of March, Gold Canyon &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hosts&lt;/span&gt; a Renaissance Festival of epic proportions. &lt;div&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;&lt;div&gt;Finally, after almost three years of living in Arizona and two within 10 miles of the grounds I went out to enjoy some of the festivities with my roommate. She has gone every year forever and was able to lead me to some of the best sites. We got there just before the gates opened and were able to watch the King, Queen, Lords and Ladies of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Faire&lt;/span&gt; introduce some of the entertainment and welcome us all to their land.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SdRDMIgEkzI/AAAAAAAAALQ/LKDWLS0aFBU/s1600-h/LondonBlad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319950935550890802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 259px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SdRDMIgEkzI/AAAAAAAAALQ/LKDWLS0aFBU/s320/LondonBlad.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We started off the morning by watching London Broil, a juggling troupe...but I don't think any of them were from London. They were quite entertaining and loved making fun of each other and the fact that they still live in their respective parent's garages. Pretty much hilarious if you ask me.&lt;/div&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; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SdRBRaEkLhI/AAAAAAAAALI/hmOIHCu61To/s1600-h/wyldemen2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319948827143450130" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 291px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SdRBRaEkLhI/AAAAAAAAALI/hmOIHCu61To/s320/wyldemen2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;From there we went to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Wyldman&lt;/span&gt; Show. I don't know about you, but seeing two middle-aged men with no shirts on, playing in mud, and teaching the audience to speak "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Wildmen&lt;/span&gt;" (grunts and groans) can be quite comedic. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SdRAsQmb11I/AAAAAAAAAKY/qhUD_fJFmC8/s1600-h/wyldemen2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By this time, we were a little hungry and interested to see what the shops offered, but you can't go to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Faire&lt;/span&gt; without at least trying this baby...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319948727857108978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 239px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SdRBLoM21_I/AAAAAAAAAK4/8-jhVXnOLho/s320/giant-roasted-turkey-legs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;No, not the little girl. The tasty turkey leg...oh, it was divine but huge! I couldn't even finish it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SdRAsSX88VI/AAAAAAAAAKg/XxT71Em18Hg/s1600-h/cast-in-bronze-ii.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319948189422121298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SdRAsSX88VI/AAAAAAAAAKg/XxT71Em18Hg/s320/cast-in-bronze-ii.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then we were off to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Carillon&lt;/span&gt; show, and it was a bit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;weird&lt;/span&gt;. The music was great, but the player was dressed in black and tried to be mysterious-like. Something to do with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;back story&lt;/span&gt;-I didn't quite get it, but enjoyed the music nonetheless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a morning full of entertainment, yummy food, and a nice farmer's tan we were ready to leave behind the middle ages and return to present day Arizona.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So that, in a nutshell, was my first experience&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SdRAslL2fEI/AAAAAAAAAKw/Rq_tiRx8FpU/s1600-h/ToastCouple.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; with the Arizona Renaissance &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Faire&lt;/span&gt;. Huzzah!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319948726776577666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 216px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 233px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SdRBLkLPPoI/AAAAAAAAALA/avtqR15jCcI/s320/ToastCouple.jpg" border="0" /&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;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-4268558772383859250?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/4268558772383859250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=4268558772383859250' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/4268558772383859250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/4268558772383859250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/04/ye-olde-faire.html' title='Ye Olde Faire'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SdRDMIgEkzI/AAAAAAAAALQ/LKDWLS0aFBU/s72-c/LondonBlad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-8233460099827035672</id><published>2009-03-04T21:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T21:17:21.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I mad movie sullen sad</title><content type='html'>I know what you're thinking, "Trish has really lost it now, her blog title doesn't even make sense."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm not crazy this was just one of the many sentences I read (::cough:: graded::cough::) from my roommate's ninth grade English class.  She had been complaining about all the papers she still had to get through before quarter end, and since the three of us were just watched Biggest Loser and had nothing better to do, we all pitched in, grabbed a stack of papers and started reading vocab sentences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the them made absolutely no sense "I mad movie sullen sad" being the best example.  Maybe this student didn't quite understand "Use these vocab words in a sentence, showing me that you understand the definition" and heard "make up sentences that will make no sense, contain no verbs, and make me question why I chose teaching as a profession."  If that were the case, I think he succeeded and should get full credit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Others made us laugh hysterically.  One girl talked about her boyfriend in every sentence, "I am dreary when my boyfriend is not by my side" was just one of her many sentences that made us ridicule the relationship and place bets on how long it would last (two months tops). Or the girl who used several of the vocab words to tell a story about how she furtively stole a cake and ended up laying sprawled on the couch from eating too much (furtive and sprawl were vocab words)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still others made me feel sorry for the kid and wonder what was going on in his/her life."Sometimes I want to expunge my parents" being the most glaring example.&lt;br /&gt;Overall, it was a fantastic evening and I can't wait for the next time her students need to turn in vocab sentences and I can break out the red pen again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-8233460099827035672?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/8233460099827035672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=8233460099827035672' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/8233460099827035672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/8233460099827035672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-mad-movie-sullen-sad.html' title='I mad movie sullen sad'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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-1768385018995268846.post-8354763151156525183</id><published>2009-02-26T18:15:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T21:14:44.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Highway Robbery</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I made a quick stop at Wal-mart to pick up some snacks for a quick trip to San Diego for training.  While waiting in the one-person line and praying for the two associates to hurry up with their transaction and ring me up because I was running late, I heard the most amusing conversation.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Lady #1: Do you know how much I had to pay to groom my precious pooch?&lt;br /&gt;Old Lady #2: No, how much was it?&lt;br /&gt;OL1:  $15&lt;br /&gt;OL2: That's highway robbery.&lt;br /&gt;OL1: I know,&lt;br /&gt;OL2: It's a real sign everything has gone downhill.&lt;br /&gt;OL1: Things just aren't how they used to be.&lt;br /&gt;OL2: $15....highway robbery!&lt;br /&gt;OL1: ...highway robbery&lt;br /&gt;OL2: inaudible mumblings:: ...highway robbery...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And then went on to complain about how Obama said he would sweep in and save the day but hasn't done anything for their paychecks yet.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm not wanting to get into the politics side, but I could hardly hide a smirk when they kept going on about how everything was "highway robbery."  I wanted to say something like "Oh really....so let's drop the price of everything.  Now, those people who are grooming your precious pooch have less discretionary money to spend, Wal-mart's business declines, you are both laid-off.  So, now you have a cheaper grooming service but you have no additional income, was it worth it?"  But, that would have been rude and I don't think they would have gotten my point.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just because a chocolate bar used to cost 5 cents and is now closer to 65 does not mean we are being taken to the cleaners by the chocolate companies...it means the cost of living/producing/manufacturing has risen over the past 60 years.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-8354763151156525183?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/8354763151156525183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=8354763151156525183' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/8354763151156525183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/8354763151156525183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/02/highway-robbery.html' title='Highway Robbery'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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-1768385018995268846.post-5523070175694921931</id><published>2009-02-09T18:36:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T18:45:52.729-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just As Good</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, I felt the mother of all headaches coming on. Digging through my desk for my trusty stash of Ibuprofen turned up nothing. I was about to sink into the depths of despair when I found this gloriousness....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SZDb_15BcDI/AAAAAAAAAKI/_06DcdyQj20/s1600-h/ghiradelli-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300978651259564082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 161px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SZDb_15BcDI/AAAAAAAAAKI/_06DcdyQj20/s200/ghiradelli-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ah...Thank you Ghirardelli, not only did you ease my aching head, you were also the best thing that happened to me all day. Your unexpected arrival brightened my mood and made everything else melt away for a few, short moments.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-5523070175694921931?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/5523070175694921931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=5523070175694921931' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/5523070175694921931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/5523070175694921931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-as-good.html' title='Just As Good'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SZDb_15BcDI/AAAAAAAAAKI/_06DcdyQj20/s72-c/ghiradelli-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-1808417793943151329</id><published>2009-01-25T19:58:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T20:35:59.118-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For The Love...</title><content type='html'>Last Saturday, the Young Single Adults from several stakes (and everyone else who found out and wanted to attend) were invited to a special fireside where the speaker was Elder Bednar. The night was fantastic, Elder Bednar spent the entire night answering questions and it was amazing to see that side of an apostle of the Lord. The love he expressed and the insights he gave will stay with me for a long while. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This post however, is not dedicated to the Spirit that was felt or anything I learned, but to a very special boy....whose parents must be so proud!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me set the stage for you....It's 5:30 and the meeting is supposed to begin at 6. There are already over a thousand people sitting in an enormous room and still more being seated in satellite buildings to watch the fireside via broadcast. A choir comprised of YSA members from 2 stakes has just been given the signal from their director to stand, take position, and prepare to sing a few hymns.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And there HE is. Smack dab in the middle of the choir loft, standing in the front row. And what, you may ask was the offense for which I rant? He was talking on his cell phone. Now, I wish I had a picture so you could really understand what I'm talking about, but this guy was talking to a buddy while everyone around was getting their music organized and preparing for the spiritual feast in which they were about to partake. But not this special soul, he was chatting up a storm with his friend as though everything were business as usual.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I imagine this was the jist of their conversation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Choir Guy: Hello?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friend: Oh hey, it's your buddy. What's going on?&lt;br /&gt;CG: Oh, nothing much. Just getting ready to sing a couple songs for this Fireside thing. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SX0vL4MA4SI/AAAAAAAAAJs/4Cxw88Ddct8/s1600-h/cell+phone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295440617965412642" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 178px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 154px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SX0vL4MA4SI/AAAAAAAAAJs/4Cxw88Ddct8/s400/cell+phone.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;F: Oh, do you have to go?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;CG: No, not really. We haven't started singing or anything. We're just standing here, looking out over the crowd.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;F: Wow, that's pretty cool!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;CG: Yeah, tell me about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;F: Do you think if I leave right now, I'll be able to get a seat in the back?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;CG: I don't know, man, it's pretty crazy here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;F: Well, I better get going...don't want to be late or anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;CG: Sounds good. Hey, do you know what a "death glare" is?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;F: No, never heard of it. Why, what's going on?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;CG: I think the entire front section of the hall is giving me a "death glare" and pointing in shock...oh, wait it's not a death glare, they just can't keep they're eyes off me. I AM wearing a new tie and looking PRETTY good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;F: Whatever dude, I gotta go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;CG:Fine, see ya later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are my two major problems with the entire situation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) Do cell phones really belong in church?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If there had been a catastreophic event or if the world were facing imminent destruction and you were the only who could save us all, would turning your cell phone off for two hours really make a difference?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) If you do bring your cell phone to church and you do chose to answer someone's call while standing in front of a large audience, shouldn't you do everything possible to quickly get off the phone, shut it off and die in shame?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HE DIDN'T!! Seriously, I don't know why he thought that phone call was so important or why he didn't try to hurry off the phone. For all I know, had he stayed on the phone just a few minutes longer, the economic crisis could have been solved by now....but I seriously doubt it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;END OF RANT&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/1768385018995268846-1808417793943151329?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/1808417793943151329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=1808417793943151329' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/1808417793943151329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/1808417793943151329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/01/for-love.html' title='For The Love...'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SX0vL4MA4SI/AAAAAAAAAJs/4Cxw88Ddct8/s72-c/cell+phone.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-1631939128172600641</id><published>2009-01-07T18:15:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T18:18:14.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Better Late Than Never</title><content type='html'>So, maybe I'm not the best blogger in the world, but I do have the best of intentions.  First off, my apologies to a certain someone to whom I promised a blog by New Years Eve.  Clearly, that didn't happen but I'm finally going through and posting some blogs that I wrote several months ago and will be up over the next several days as to not have anyone die of shock.  And yes, they will be post-dated so it will look that I've been vigilant about blogging when the opposite is true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So scroll down and enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-1631939128172600641?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/1631939128172600641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=1631939128172600641' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/1631939128172600641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/1631939128172600641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2009/01/better-late-than-never.html' title='Better Late Than Never'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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-1768385018995268846.post-2980252659480915979</id><published>2008-11-14T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T18:29:52.528-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Single Wards Are Ridiculous</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story you are about to read is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tracy and Hannah were planning on attending a play with some friends. Hannah had recently met a friend of Tracy's, Trevor, and was taken by his charming ways. Knowing that Hannah wanted to invite Trevor to the play, Tracy offered to give Hannah his phone number. She refused, thinking it would make her seem too obvious and desperate to Trevor. Tracy finally agreed to forward a text with the information to Trevor, and see if a love connection was made. This is what happened....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trevor: Hey Hannah?! You got my # huh...&lt;br /&gt;Tracy: Actually, this is Tracy. I was just forwarding on Hannah's info to a bunch of people (totally lied, it was just to him) but here's Hannah number, give her a call if you want to go.&lt;br /&gt;Trevor: Hey Tracy! What's up? That's one way to Hannah's number...jk. Fri nite is when Bond opens too. Ahh! What am I going to do?&lt;br /&gt;Tricia: That's easy, go to the play on Friday night and then Bond on Saturday. Problem solved!!&lt;br /&gt;Trevor: There you go. Get me a ticket if you're going too.&lt;br /&gt;Tricia: Of course I'm going. I'll let Hannah know and get you a ticket.&lt;br /&gt;Trevor: Awesome thanks! I'm not too sure where the play is so if I could follow you over or I'll drive you? That would be great.&lt;br /&gt;Tricia: I don't know who all is going, but we're all meeting at Hannah's before, I'll get you more information when I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, Hannah had been contacting Tracy about every 10 seconds to know what progress was being made on Trevor's end. Finally, Hannah asked why Trevor wasn't calling her and asked if it would be okay if she were to call him directly. Tracy (relieved at this point to be taken out of the equation) said, "Go for it. I told him we're meeting at your place, but don't have your address with me right now. That'd be a great excuse to call him. Good luck!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SWVWluLJLvI/AAAAAAAAAIs/3MMmR0GarSM/s1600-h/love+connection.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288728543466434290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 175px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SWVWluLJLvI/AAAAAAAAAIs/3MMmR0GarSM/s320/love+connection.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the rest, as they say, is history. The happy couple have been dating ever since and I....I mean Tracy is forever putting up her "match-making" hat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-2980252659480915979?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/2980252659480915979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=2980252659480915979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/2980252659480915979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/2980252659480915979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/11/why-single-wards-are-ridiculous.html' title='Why Single Wards Are Ridiculous'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SWVWluLJLvI/AAAAAAAAAIs/3MMmR0GarSM/s72-c/love+connection.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-6093477202132230019</id><published>2008-11-05T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T18:54:46.779-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paging Micheal Scott..</title><content type='html'>The other day, my branch manager came to town to interview applicants for an open position we had in our branch. All was well and good until a half hour before the first interview was scheduled and my bm walked into my office and informed me that I would be giving a second interview.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A second interview!! I had never even considered interviewing anyone before, and this came as a shock.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SWVcHM6AxsI/AAAAAAAAAI8/AS2F00LCoJk/s1600-h/michael.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So what did I do? Had a flashback to an Office episode when Michael Scott googled info on negotiating techniques and another episode when Phylis went to wikipedia to learn how to deal with hostile co-workers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SWVcRbUKLyI/AAAAAAAAAJE/L_PazQuw93U/s1600-h/michael.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288734791876357922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 117px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 128px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SWVcRbUKLyI/AAAAAAAAAJE/L_PazQuw93U/s400/michael.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right, when life throws curveballs, I rely on a TV show. Well it worked for the most part. By the fifth interview I was feeling pretty confident, sadly there was only one more interview after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here are some of the ever so insightful questions I found while scouring the internet:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tell me about a time when you had to communicate information to a group of people. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tell me about a significant achievement in your life. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tell me about a time where you had to work towards a deadline. Did you meet it? If not, what would you do differently next time?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;What parts of your education do you see as relevant to this position? &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why do you want to work for us? &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;What are your short term/long term goals? &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Where do you see yourself in five years time? &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;And then there was the list of illegal questions, can't ask them but I found them entertaining&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do you expect to become have a family? When? How many children will you have? (This one sounds like the questions you get when you go home to your parents ward :) this line of questioning should be illegal there too)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Where were you/your parents born?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Have you ever been arrested?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&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/1768385018995268846-6093477202132230019?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/6093477202132230019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=6093477202132230019' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6093477202132230019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6093477202132230019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/11/paging-micheal-scott.html' title='Paging Micheal Scott..'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SWVcRbUKLyI/AAAAAAAAAJE/L_PazQuw93U/s72-c/michael.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-6012479532100628833</id><published>2008-10-28T17:00:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T18:31:29.748-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am Divine!!</title><content type='html'>Who needs an excuse to dress up in a sheet and go to a party! Apparently, I do. While struggling to figure out what in the world I would dress-up as for Halloween (I was thinking about going as a three-hole paper....thanks Jim from The Office). I was getting nowhere fast, when luckily my equally cash-strapped friend came up with the brilliant idea of dressing up in togas...can I just say how much we rocked. After spending considerable time on You-Tube researching the correct way to tie a toga (thank you fraternities and sororities) we looked fantastic and were ready to rock the party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the branch party and were campaigning to win the "Best Dressed Coordinating Group" when all our hopes and dreams were dashed as the winners were announced. Considering there were only two groups dressed in coordinating costumes, we were shocked when the "Three Amigos" won. I still think the votes were rigged as we were by far the more amazing, talented, beautiful, wonderful, did I mention amazing group? The other group didn't even look like the Three Amigos, they had simply cut holes in Mexican blankets to use as ponchos and were wearing giant sombreros. Plus, two of them weren't even in the branch. Oh well, there is always next year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-6012479532100628833?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/6012479532100628833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=6012479532100628833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6012479532100628833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6012479532100628833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-am-divine.html' title='I Am Divine!!'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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-1768385018995268846.post-8511831657151156156</id><published>2008-10-12T18:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T18:15:00.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do you think you can get away with that?</title><content type='html'>This is me venting about ridiculous people I deal with...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driver involved in a vehicle accident, called it in to our insurance, but has not yet informed branch.  Little does he know that the insurance company sends me a first report for every claim called in, and I have a very good relationship with his manager.  Yeah,  was a little less than pleased when I called her about this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worker involved in car accident and doesn't provide information to the company, but will go out and hire a lawyer for lost wages....which she would have gotten had she been turning in the medical paperwork in a timely manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A terminated employee with severe medical restrictions and a propensity for accidents calling a branch and asking for job as a service tech (which is physically demanding work).  Thankfully, we are under no obligations in that state to take him back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The branch who has no idea, nor cares, that an employee is seeing a chiropractor for a work-related injury (no offense intended, but in the claims world chiroporactors are the kiss of death beacuse they typically want to treat forever without diagnosing a problem). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, that was very cleansing.  I'll get back to work now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-8511831657151156156?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/8511831657151156156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=8511831657151156156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/8511831657151156156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/8511831657151156156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/10/why-do-you-think-you-can-get-away-with.html' title='Why do you think you can get away with that?'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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-1768385018995268846.post-4918770667437989147</id><published>2008-09-23T18:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T20:00:06.249-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There is no excuse</title><content type='html'>That's right, I got nothing! No good excuse to use other than "I've been busy." But, as part of my 12 steps to getting back into blogging, I have spent some time putting together the posts that have been in my head for weeks and have never before made it to the keyboard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So please scroll down and read about the trip Melissa and I took to New York, Melissa's special guest writing spot, and all my other rants and raves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-4918770667437989147?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/4918770667437989147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=4918770667437989147' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/4918770667437989147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/4918770667437989147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/09/there-is-no-excuse.html' title='There is no excuse'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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-1768385018995268846.post-6139071836527387459</id><published>2008-09-22T18:29:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T20:01:06.718-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shoo Fly, Don't Bother Me</title><content type='html'>Perhaps I woke up on the wrong side of the bed or perhaps it was the fact that this dang fly was going after my morning juice, big mistake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I got into the office this morning, this fly was getting up in my face, and being an all-around nuisance. Now, don't get my wrong, I recognize that this fly is one of God's creatures and has every right to live a good long life 15 to 30 days, but seriously!! There are two other EMPTY offices, why does it have to be in mine? I say, he totally got what he was asking for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249407893761451762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmkqrTIZvI/AAAAAAAAAII/kYNZr-mcsrI/s320/DSC01540.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: No, I did not kill the fly. The juice proved to be its downfall. As soon as it was inside the mug trying to get to my delicious juice, I covered the top with my hand and took it outside where it no longer bothered me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-6139071836527387459?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/6139071836527387459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=6139071836527387459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6139071836527387459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6139071836527387459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/09/shoo-fly-dont-bother-me.html' title='Shoo Fly, Don&apos;t Bother Me'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmkqrTIZvI/AAAAAAAAAII/kYNZr-mcsrI/s72-c/DSC01540.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-7206895774293041122</id><published>2008-09-21T23:20:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T20:01:38.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome Baby Girl!!</title><content type='html'>Congrats to Eric and Alicia and a big welcome to the world to Evelyn Rose Carlsen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother and daughter are both healthy and doing fine. Check out their &lt;a href="http://carlsens.blogspot.com/2008/09/evelyn-rose-carlsen.html"&gt;announcement&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I ever mentioned that I have the cutest nieces in the world?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249412372407070626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmovXjdL6I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/U-KxIJEKmT4/s320/Evelyn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-7206895774293041122?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/7206895774293041122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=7206895774293041122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/7206895774293041122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/7206895774293041122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/09/welcome-baby-girl.html' title='Welcome Baby Girl!!'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmovXjdL6I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/U-KxIJEKmT4/s72-c/Evelyn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-5682705494813446964</id><published>2008-09-15T18:14:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T19:20:02.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wicked Traffic</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I don't think I can ever truly express the frustration I sometime feel when I'm trying to make it home and the traffic is horrendous. I mean, seriously...all I want to do is get home and relax, but instead I'm stuck on a freeway where people have to literally stop whenever one of those traffic banners has something posted or heaven forbid an accident, because you have to just find out exactly what happened and see how things are progressing on the shoulder.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps this is just a rant, but I do have a solution! Something that always soothes my nerves is the soundtrack to Wicked. Whenever I start feeling my blood pressure rise, I pop in my Wicked CD and life is good. There don't seem to be as many cars, those ridiculous drivers that cut in front of me without looking and promptly stomp on the brakes don't seem to be so annoying, and all is good in the world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, the next you are driving east on the 60 sometime between 4:30 and 5 look out for me, I'll be driving a little Sentra and maybe we could start a rousing chorus of "Popular," "Dancing Through Life", or my personal favorite "Defying Gravity"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249406578243811954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 166px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="130" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmjeGnSOnI/AAAAAAAAAIA/ciNS1Yrj4Vc/s320/images.jpg" width="152" border="0" /&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/1768385018995268846-5682705494813446964?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/5682705494813446964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=5682705494813446964' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/5682705494813446964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/5682705494813446964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/09/wicked-traffic.html' title='Wicked Traffic'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmjeGnSOnI/AAAAAAAAAIA/ciNS1Yrj4Vc/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-6285932632193054353</id><published>2008-08-28T18:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T19:58:54.339-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You're It!</title><content type='html'>I've been tagged. Here you go Megan...this one's for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Joys:&lt;br /&gt;1. Finishing a fantastic book.&lt;br /&gt;2. Playing with my beautiful nieces, that doesn't happen nearly enough.&lt;br /&gt;3. Taking a long bubble bath after a long, stressful week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Fears:&lt;br /&gt;1. Becoming a cat lady.&lt;br /&gt;2. Being involved in a serious car accident (driving as much as I do, it's bound to happen one day)&lt;br /&gt;3. Losing my mind, forgetting those I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obsessions:&lt;br /&gt;1. Golden Spoon!!! YUMMY!&lt;br /&gt;2. Bones - such a good show.  And it's a party every week with Arlene and Tonja&lt;br /&gt;3. Blog stalking...and I'm not afraid to admit it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprising Facts:&lt;br /&gt;1. I am becoming quite the cry baby.  Give me a good talk in church, an emotional movie, or even a moving picture and the tear ducts open up....it's a new phenomema for me, and I'm not sure I like it all the time.&lt;br /&gt;2. Even though I deal with some scum in my job as claims administrator, I LOVE IT!!  It's so fascinating to see what people think they can get away with.&lt;br /&gt;3. Geesh, I can't think of anything else, I'm quite a boring person.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-6285932632193054353?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/6285932632193054353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=6285932632193054353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6285932632193054353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6285932632193054353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/08/youre-it.html' title='You&apos;re It!'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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-1768385018995268846.post-2009154077276486276</id><published>2008-08-20T18:34:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T18:43:08.741-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Note to Self</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Dear Self,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I know you were really, really looking forward to your trip to NYC last week, but next time you even think about getting out of town for a few days keep a few things in mind:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Something will go horribly wrong at least once during the trip&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Just because you're not there doesn't mean the work stops pilling up&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Take at least one day after your trip to recuperate before returning to work&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;em&gt;Be prepared to work crazy hours and get no sympathy when you return &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm glad you came home safe and sound and that you had an amazing time.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Okay, I know I've dropped off the face of the earth for the past few weeks but I will try to get a few posts up over the next few days with awe-inspiring pictures and entertaining stories.  There may even be a guest author...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-2009154077276486276?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/2009154077276486276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=2009154077276486276' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/2009154077276486276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/2009154077276486276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/08/note-to-self.html' title='Note to Self'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-312579690539860876</id><published>2008-08-18T15:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T19:14:34.447-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New York, New York! A Wonderful Town...</title><content type='html'>Oh Man! &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;First of all, I'd like to give a huge thanks to Kris and Brett for letting Melissa and me crash with you guys all week. You are amazing and it was so great catching up with you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Here is a run down of everything we did while acting like crazy, half-lost tourist in the Big Apple (very random side-note, but here is the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Big_Apple"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt; to why New York is called the Big Apple and Brett, you were way off, nice try though) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249381812825832066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmM8kPhOoI/AAAAAAAAAFw/OzxUJg0mZyY/s320/ReadytoGo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;And Off We Go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Tuesday-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Drama, drama, drama...in my "Note To Self" I mentioned that every really good trip has some disaster, Melissa so graciously documented what happened on our first day. Scroll down to read her account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Wednesday-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;We headed down to Battery Park to try and get out to the Statue of Liberty, but the line was too stinking long so we wandered around and found a very cute garden and a random museum that had beautiful architecture but little inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Then we headed to Ground Zero and it is incredible the solemnity that still exists in that area. New York is a bustling town, but that area definitely had a different feeling. It was weird thinking that the last time I visited New York, there were two incredible tall and beautiful buildings there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249381808813609202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmM8VS7kPI/AAAAAAAAAFo/NUqBO-TIPQk/s320/WTC.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two words best describe the Brooklynn Bride "ah mazing." We walked across and grabbed som pizza from Grimaldi's and ice cream from the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Check out Melissa's magic trick, that little thing in the distance is the Statue of Liberty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmPWlzmeTI/AAAAAAAAAF4/a7grkDPopqw/s1600-h/trick1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249384458945460530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmPWlzmeTI/AAAAAAAAAF4/a7grkDPopqw/s320/trick1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmPjlojnJI/AAAAAAAAAGA/lUd4U4dLfno/s1600-h/trick2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249384682237435026" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmPjlojnJI/AAAAAAAAAGA/lUd4U4dLfno/s320/trick2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;From there we headed to Canal Street. We got a little turned around and frazzled coming trying to find the subway station for the way back. I don't care how good a map you have of Manhattan, it does not help you find the subway station in Brooklyn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;A big thanks to Arlene and Tonja for warning me ahead of time that some of the sellers on Canal Street take you through back alleys and winding streets. Too bad I didn't think to tell Melissa, she thought we were going to die!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;What would a trip to New York be without a frozen hot chocolate from Serendipity? Of course, we had to get one and it was delicious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Thursday-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;After a failed attempt to get out to the Stature of Liberty, we finally got out there and it was incredible. We were on one of the first boats out, so we were able to take our time and really walk around and see everything without a crowd. Next stop was Ellis Island, so cool! Again, since there was hardly anyone was there we were able to see everything close-up and take out time. We were even able to take a few Hitch-inspired pictures inside the museum. For those Hitch fans (and you know who you are), you may be sad to know that Jose Milas did not really come through Ellis Island, I checked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249389057596134690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmTiRHXFSI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/0P1RvlRsBOE/s320/DSC01277.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Everyone has one story about how a New Yorker is just unbelievably rude and not helpful AT ALL!! Here's was happened to us. We were in a line to buy Broadway tickets for over an hour and a half before we reached the front of the line and found out the tickets we wanted cost more than the cash we had on hand. I even asked if there were cheaper tickets and this lady said "no". Well, after checking a few other things in Times Square we decided to hit up an ATM and try to get tickets again. By the time we spent anothe 1/2 hour in line, we finally got to the front and found that there were cheaper tickets and we would have had enough money before, if the lady would have just checked....yah, we were not happy. But, Hairspray was AMAZING and totally worth the two hours in line and frustration that we faced.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249389081072040882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmTjokc-7I/AAAAAAAAAGg/ph2FsSMvDGU/s320/DSC01359.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My only slightly illegal picture of the Hairspray stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Instead of heading back to the apartment, we stopped off at Grand Central Station and grabbed a bit to eat and discover Black and White cookies before heading back to Broadway to see Hairspray.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249389055024156274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmTiHiJznI/AAAAAAAAAGI/XHfQ6504XB0/s320/DSC01353.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Friday-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;First thing in the morning we went down to the Empire State Building. And waited in a line, and then another, and then up an elevator....to wait in another line, and finally made it to the very top. Okay, so I don't know if I've been able to express how long we had to snake around in lines and maybe it wasn't even that bad, but staying up until 1 the night before to watch the Women's Gymanstics could be partly to blame for my grouchiness and the perception that we spent an eternity in line.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249389087935665154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmTkCI3lAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/9dNBGA2vDLI/s320/DSC01389.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;We spent the rest of the morning snapping pics, shopping, and taking a well earned nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;When we ventured out again, we headed to St Patrick's Cathedral. What an amazing sight! It was kinda weird walking in during a mass and seeing tourists mill around and take pictures while others were trying to worship. I did learn that Mary is the queen of heaven and earth, so that was pretty exciting. Then, we went to Rockefeller Center and Radio City Hall before it started raining. We ran to FAO Schwartz to get out of the rain, and had a fantastic time playing with all the toys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249394002748647602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmYCHPmKLI/AAAAAAAAAGw/xBsAbpDYSlM/s320/DSC01421.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Painting is always a lot of fun with a good group, and as payment for letting us crash with them, Melissa and I helped Kris and Brett paint Baby Gibson's room a lovely shade of pink. And Kris, I do expect pictures of the nursery when everything is put together.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249394032937857122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmYD3tQ8GI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/8TMDksACWME/s320/DSC01423.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From there, Melissa and I headed to see the temple and Lincoln Center before heading to Magnolia Bakery for some yummy cupcakes and then off to Central Park. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249394007547928914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmYCZH1YVI/AAAAAAAAAG4/oo1Je8V7F-M/s320/DSC01426.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;There's only "One Way" get it?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Okay, countless movies have been filmed in Central Park, but the one that sticks out the most is Enchanted. So, we had to go and take Enchanted-inspired pictures. We even found Pip! Seriously, this little chipmunk kept scurrying closer to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249402536085051106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmfy0ZiVuI/AAAAAAAAAHY/N6m_p1rDZg8/s320/DSC01455.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;After a lovely picnic with Kris and Brett and quick game of Frisbee, Melissa and I headed to the Met. What an incredible museum! There was so much to see that we picked a few exhibits and skipped a lot. One, of course, was an exhibit that included several Monet paintings and I thought Melissa had died and gone to Monet Heaven. Another interesting exhibit we visited was Comic inspired haute couture and some original comic hero costumes. The haute couture was a little scary at times, but seeing the batman suit Christain Bale is just one step away from actually meeting him, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249402549295157106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmfzlnEj3I/AAAAAAAAAHg/JO7-Em31FUM/s320/DSC01499.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that I found my knight in shining armor?!? He's not much of a talker, but he has quite the sparkling personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249402562827963090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmf0YBiytI/AAAAAAAAAHw/unoc41BYU_4/s320/DSC01501.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And who can forget Sushi Night? Kris was generous enough to help us make some delicious sushi. Although my first attempt was less than stellar, my second sushi roll was fantstic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249402555801599458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmfz92U_eI/AAAAAAAAAHo/WxzX5j55ETo/s320/DSC01523.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See our yummy spread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249394028097828706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmYDlrT92I/AAAAAAAAAHI/b2o5VENo_qg/s320/DSC01527.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;For anyone interested, you can check out all of NYC &lt;a href="http://newyorktripmissandtrish.shutterfly.com/"&gt;pictures&lt;/a&gt; or see a &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=2Ibt2LlwyZOTg"&gt;photo album &lt;/a&gt;Melissa put together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-312579690539860876?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/312579690539860876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=312579690539860876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/312579690539860876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/312579690539860876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-york-new-york-wonderful-town.html' title='New York, New York! A Wonderful Town...'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmM8kPhOoI/AAAAAAAAAFw/OzxUJg0mZyY/s72-c/ReadytoGo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-278102317994388593</id><published>2008-08-12T21:31:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T19:15:32.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It All Started With A Bad Hair Day....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;And now, I'm happy to present my favorite little sister and her recounting of the first day of our trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started with a bad hair day…&lt;br /&gt;It was Tuesday morning and my summer of waiting and anticipation was finally over. I was finally going to be on my way to New York City, where I've been wanting to go pretty much forever. I got up and went into the bathroom to get ready, and when I looked in the mirror, I was appalled at the frightening sight that was before me. I went to bed on my aunt's couch the night before with my hair wet, and so in the morning, it was a huge mess. Pretty embarrassing actually. Of course I didn't have my straightener or anything, so I had to just throw my hair up in the most horrendous messy bun of my life. I should have known then that the day would not be a good one. Bad hair day = bad day in general.&lt;br /&gt;So my aunt dropped me off at the airport, and after fighting through the horde of departing missionaries, I made it to my gate. Pretty sure it was all I could do to contain my excitement. When the time came, I boarded my plane, anxious to begin the four hour flight so that I could just get there. The captain started to push back from the gate, but then we stopped…and we were stopped for quite some time. After a little bit, the captain said that one of the hydraulic pumps wasn't working, but they were going to have the mechanics come look at it and we would be on our way shortly. In the mean time, they turned on the entertainment (we all had our own little screens J) so I started watching an episode of Bones. A half an hour later, the captain came back on the loud speaker and told us that they did not have the part in Salt Lake and the closest one was in Vegas. So, we could either try and get on another flight or wait for the part to get there later in the afternoon. All the passengers then got off the plane, but I was in row 28, so by the time I got off, the line to talk to a ticketing agent was forever long. After a while, we were told that a new plane was coming from St. Louis and would depart at 2:15 and that if New York was our final destination, that would be the best option. Now, my flight was supposed to leave at 8:30 and I was supposed to meet Trish at the JFK airport. Basically I hate airports and was stressing out. I had a butt load of time to sit and wait for my plane and I was not very excited. Out of desperation from having brought nothing to do during my wait (I wasn't expecting to have to wait so long!) I went to a bookstore in the airport and bought Breaking Dawn. Pretty sure it was $10 more than it would have been anywhere else, but as I said, I was freaking desperate! So, I read that during my wait and that made it go a lot faster, thank goodness. One good thing about my flight breaking down, though, is that I got free lunch at the airport, although that did not even begin to make up for all of my stressing and my wasted time.&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, after a horrendously long wait, I was finally able to board another plane that would take me to New York. It was about time! Good news: 1) I was finally going to go to New York! 2) I had my own row since so many other people got other flights. 3) I got to read lots of Breaking Dawn. Bad news: 1) even though I had my own row, I couldn't sleep. I had earplugs and everything, but it was so freezing that I couldn't sleep. 2) The entertainment system on my second flight was different so I couldn't finish the episodes that I started. The TV stations wouldn't work and you had to pay for the movies, so I just read and listened to music the whole time. 3) I wasted pretty much the whole day in the airport when I could have been chilling in New York. 4) I was supposed to land 20 minutes after Trish but ended up getting there over 6 hours later. That meant that I had to navigate my way around the airtrain subway thing…by myself… bad news… One more good news item, Trish was good enough to meet me where the airtrain met the subway so that I didn't have to wander around New York by myself on my first night there. I probably would have gotten lost and would have ended up in some sketchy ghetto where I would have gotten mugged and possibly killed. So, thanks Trish!&lt;br /&gt;So basically, long story short, I finally made it to New York after the longest day of my life. The rest of the trip was pretty much amazing, but I'm sure Trish will write about that now that I have finally written this post.&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story: When the day starts with really bad hair, expect other bad things to happen too.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249405731195398018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmiszHNJ4I/AAAAAAAAAH4/pHugnxOTLEk/s320/sub.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-278102317994388593?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/278102317994388593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=278102317994388593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/278102317994388593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/278102317994388593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/08/it-all-started-with-bad-hair-day.html' title='It All Started With A Bad Hair Day....'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SNmiszHNJ4I/AAAAAAAAAH4/pHugnxOTLEk/s72-c/sub.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-4719257392189583724</id><published>2008-08-05T18:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T18:25:51.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unbelievable</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Lately, I have seen or heard a few strange things and just wanted to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;As a preface to this story, you need to know that I always carry around my camera with me. In my line of work, you never know when you'll need it. While working out on the west side of town I came across a fountain with a four-foot wall of bubbles around it. It was the most amazing sight I have seen in a long time, and I had just switched purses so was no camera to document the bubbly sight. But, believe me it was awesome.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have a tendency to leave my keys in random places, or even lock them inside my car. Well, the other day as I was walking out of an account, right before I had a chance to panic because my keys weren't in my pocket, I found my keys hanging out of the trunk...I'm glad it was early in the morning and no one wanted a dirty 2006 Sentra.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;This one I've been struggling with for the past few days. I still can't believe someone actually said it...and I will leave you to have your own opinion on what was said. One of my friends just started attending a new singles ward last week. She ran into the bishop in the hallway and he gave her this piece of advice on her very first Sunday in the ward. "I am a big believer in ward-hopping. Just come back every once in a while and check in so we know you're still alive."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;On to happier new ward experiences, I have also just started attending a new ward, or better put, a new single branch was created in my stake and the only way I can describe it is that it feels like coming home. I am truly blessed.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The summers in Arizona are synonymous with incredible heat. I left a semi-healthy, green plant in my car for a just few hours and found this upon my return.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233065039809592914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SJ-U7YBdvlI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/5qCpIKlKi00/s320/DSC01132.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-4719257392189583724?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/4719257392189583724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=4719257392189583724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/4719257392189583724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/4719257392189583724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/08/unbelievable.html' title='Unbelievable'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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/_wcixjDseZbo/SJ-U7YBdvlI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/5qCpIKlKi00/s72-c/DSC01132.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-2193982566234263130</id><published>2008-07-28T16:42:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T17:01:07.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fearless Leader</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SI5aSFEfBkI/AAAAAAAAAFA/GOipdM-vk60/s1600-h/DSC01126.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every month or so my branch manager, Sandy,  makes the trek from San Diego to Phoenix to see how things are going. Imagine my surprise when I came into work the other day and was greeted by this sight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228216420102392658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SI5bIkERS1I/AAAAAAAAAFI/Q0HESZxc58c/s320/DSC01126.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now let me explain...99% of the time, I am the only person in the office.  Out of the three individual offices we have, mine is by far the hottest.  Therefore, I tend to keep the thermostat relatively low, if I didn't I would fry and be miserable.  Sandy had a conference call early in the morning and took it in the office next to mine, which happens to be the coldest office out of the three.  She was so cold that she used socks (we use socks to groom plants, don't worry these are brand new) to keep herself warm during the call.  After she hung-up, she walked into my office looking like this and I couldn't help but laugh hysterically. &lt;br /&gt;I'm glad she has a sense of humor!&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/1768385018995268846-2193982566234263130?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/2193982566234263130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=2193982566234263130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/2193982566234263130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/2193982566234263130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/07/fearless-leader.html' title='Fearless Leader'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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://bp3.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SI5bIkERS1I/AAAAAAAAAFI/Q0HESZxc58c/s72-c/DSC01126.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-3608519118556165681</id><published>2008-07-14T17:44:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T17:51:32.205-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 60,000!!</title><content type='html'>My poor little Nissan Sentra has been, and hopefully will continue to be, a trooper. We have been through so much together, 2 Arizona summers, 6 tires, 1 speeding ticket, a new windshield, countless oil changes, and several road trips to California, . Now, my car has hit a new milestone it has reached 60,000 miles!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's not really a big deal, I just saw the odometer, grabbed my camera and took a picture while practicing safe driving skills learned at traffic school :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223036551697996722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SHv0EijXG7I/AAAAAAAAAEw/TGU5OPnXxEc/s320/DSC01121.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-3608519118556165681?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/3608519118556165681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=3608519118556165681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/3608519118556165681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/3608519118556165681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/07/happy-60000.html' title='Happy 60,000!!'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SHv0EijXG7I/AAAAAAAAAEw/TGU5OPnXxEc/s72-c/DSC01121.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-4244358130912463445</id><published>2008-07-05T17:22:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T20:15:31.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marky Mark and his Funky Bunch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SHvw9A78hoI/AAAAAAAAAEo/mouwX-h56Uw/s1600-h/DSC00992.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223033123880339074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SHvw9A78hoI/AAAAAAAAAEo/mouwX-h56Uw/s320/DSC00992.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This blog is dedicated to my favorite brother(it's easy when you only have one)....here's to you Mark.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It seems like just yesterday when little Mark was brought home from the hospital. Now, he's celebrating his 15th birthday. One more year and he will be a lean, mean dating machine driving the girls crazy...I mean driving, period. Look out!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So in honor of Mark's birthday, here are a few of my favorite Markisms:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;"I reject your reality and subsitute my own"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;"I kill you!!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;"Does your ROFLcopter go swi, swi, swi?" (I don't exactly get that one, but he enjoys it)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;"You can't handle the truthiness" (Thank you Stephen Colbert)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;"That cannot be proven"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Walking up to me and not saying a word, just smiling down and leaning on me, he thinks it's hilarious. I swear one night I will chop off his feet at his ankles and then we'll see who's laughing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223037749661456818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SHv1KRUG2bI/AAAAAAAAAE4/iHUjXRVsUH8/s320/DSC01110.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-4244358130912463445?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/4244358130912463445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=4244358130912463445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/4244358130912463445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/4244358130912463445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/07/marky-mark-and-his-funky-bunch.html' title='Marky Mark and his Funky Bunch'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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://bp1.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SHvw9A78hoI/AAAAAAAAAEo/mouwX-h56Uw/s72-c/DSC00992.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-856252814092380891</id><published>2008-07-04T16:40:00.013-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T19:18:53.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Rockin' Good Time</title><content type='html'>Well, I made it to Denver in one piece and was greeted by Alicia, Eric, their two girls, my parents, grandma, Melissa and Mark. It was quite a sight when two cars pulled up and a bunch of people came piling out....but I digress. From the airport, we headed striaght out to Rocky Mountain National Park for three days of camping, hiking, and all-around fun in the outdoors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219337681029249298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SG7P97iPORI/AAAAAAAAADQ/VNKoMw2rFtk/s320/DSC01019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After arriving at the campsite on Wednesday, we had to ... I mean got to... set-up three tents, 10 camping chairs, and a canopy. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219333385048628050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SG7MD3wpG1I/AAAAAAAAACw/NMYycke4a_0/s320/DSC00948.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Elizabeth loved helping her grandpa get the tents up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219341457289544002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SG7TZvM2gUI/AAAAAAAAADw/d4IKX2xv_P8/s320/DSC00961.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p&gt;Rachel and Elizabeth relaxing in Grandpa's one man tent, perfect for two little girls.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219337674955453330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SG7P9k6Ic5I/AAAAAAAAADI/-Up9pxlB6UM/s320/DSC00981.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Mark, Rachel and Melissa relaxing after a long afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219338450266246514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SG7QqtKoTXI/AAAAAAAAADY/0CmXk9KZTYE/s320/DSC00996.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Alicia planning the night's events. It was a captivating presentation of some of the early national parks and their stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219341469105094530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SG7TabN5f4I/AAAAAAAAAD4/YDSjB8BedjI/s320/DSC01057.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Thursday was full of hiking. The guys got up early and went up to some glaciers while the girls visited a bunch of lakes. Here the girls are resting their little legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219345009053327906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SG7WoejU4iI/AAAAAAAAAEA/ufbH4tProyw/s320/DSC01031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219345011492498498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SG7Wono3rEI/AAAAAAAAAEI/aCtk7e3gCOc/s320/DSC01048.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Some of the lakes we saw. The first is Bear Lake and the second is Nymph Lake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219346369256513298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SG7X3ptCXxI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/C6MAafw1jcA/s320/DSC01074.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p&gt;What would a campout be without a good fire and s'mores. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219346376572182178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SG7X4E9OnqI/AAAAAAAAAEY/8xGO_caS9MQ/s320/DSC01075.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If smoke follows beauty, we are all gorgeous!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219338463876873874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SG7Qrf3p_pI/AAAAAAAAADo/yuZ-kbLMbis/s320/DSC01038.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219338451543173890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SG7Qqx7EqwI/AAAAAAAAADg/maX8Nj3sI6Q/s320/DSC01017.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the wildlife we saw on hikes and at our campsite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219346382000073154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SG7X4ZLVqcI/AAAAAAAAAEg/GEKN-Iepr20/s320/DSC01085.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Friday we all packed up and headed back to Denver for Fourth of July festivities. Doesn't Mark make a great pack mule?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-856252814092380891?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/856252814092380891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=856252814092380891' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/856252814092380891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/856252814092380891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/07/rockin-good-time.html' title='A Rockin&apos; Good Time'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SG7P97iPORI/AAAAAAAAADQ/VNKoMw2rFtk/s72-c/DSC01019.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-6696401843948806736</id><published>2008-06-28T16:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T16:41:04.278-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Money Does Grow on Trees... sort of</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I am a little bit of a plant nerd. I'm the kind of person who watches movies and notices plants, sometime more than what's going on in a scene. For example, if you have ever seen "Return to Me" you may notice the amazing house David Duchovny lives in. But did you notice a big change between the time his wife dies and Minner Driver visits his house? I did, one of the changes he made was to add an amazing grouping of tropical plants behind the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anway, back to the title of this post. One of my favorites plants (for the moment) is called a Money Plant or &lt;em&gt;Pachira&lt;/em&gt;. I love it!! It usually comes with a braided trunk, has fun looking leaves, and has the word "money" in its name... how awesome is that!  I love it so much, that it is one of the three plants I keep in my office. It has the place of honor on my desk. Here's a picture of my beautiful baby. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216030606598074802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SGMQM3PX8bI/AAAAAAAAACg/ea3FdVwgt6k/s320/DSC00890.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my point is that my parents were wrong- money does grow on trees....sort of.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-6696401843948806736?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/6696401843948806736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=6696401843948806736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6696401843948806736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6696401843948806736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/06/money-does-grow-on-trees-sort-of.html' title='Money Does Grow on Trees... sort of'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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://bp3.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SGMQM3PX8bI/AAAAAAAAACg/ea3FdVwgt6k/s72-c/DSC00890.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-8585126544801475551</id><published>2008-06-25T20:25:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T19:52:33.241-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple Arithmetic</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;1 brand new windshield&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;1 unsecured dump truck &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;=&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;1 very irritated driver with a chip in her brand new windshield&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You do the math...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-8585126544801475551?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/8585126544801475551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=8585126544801475551' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/8585126544801475551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/8585126544801475551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/06/simple-math.html' title='Simple Arithmetic'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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-1768385018995268846.post-5646727803217354467</id><published>2008-06-19T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T19:30:02.878-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Job Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;The other day I realized that on my very first post I mentioned a change at work, but didn't get into details. Let me enlighten you. For the past year and a half or so I have been working with an interior landscaping company as an admin assistant for my branch. Making sure our bills were getting paid, taking care of any complaint calls coming in, going out to service accounts whenever needed, and doing anything else that was left undone. As of about a month ago, I was given the opportunity to tackle an additional responsibilty, Claims Administrator. What this means is that now I handle all the worker's compensation, auto accidents, and some of the property damage claims for my company. Strangely enough, I thoroughly enjoy the added stress of learning a new job while making sure everything is running smoothly at the branch. I honestly can't believe some of the stupidity that goes on, that people actually think they can get away with and not get caught. Oh man, do I have some great stories to share!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of my favorites so far (I feel like I need to add a disclaimer, but as long as I don't give any personal information, I am breaking no laws) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;A passerby walked around three cones and caution tape that a team set-up around a hole they were digging and fell into the hole. She is now suing our company.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;An employee was servicing an account when she was bit by a dog. She is now suffering from anxiety attacks and PTSD and is suing the dog owner. Sidenote: the lawyer hasn't convinced her to sue the company....yet.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;An employee injured his shoulder so bad, he couldn't drive, lift, or work. The PI tailing him for a weekend has pictures that would beg to differ, he was driving all over town, taking out the trash, and rough housing with his young children.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;A driver who can't seem to read those warning signs that say "Caution: Low Clearance Ahead." This picture is just one I found, but you get the idea.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213292261944957042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SFlVsOeFmHI/AAAAAAAAACI/WC4iPjmh9ko/s320/truck.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-5646727803217354467?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/5646727803217354467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=5646727803217354467' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/5646727803217354467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/5646727803217354467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/06/job-update.html' title='Job Update'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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://bp0.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SFlVsOeFmHI/AAAAAAAAACI/WC4iPjmh9ko/s72-c/truck.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-6064181972836493371</id><published>2008-06-17T17:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T17:29:04.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Latest Obsession</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I have a tendency to obsessively check out new websites. Well, my sister just introduced me to a website that sells graphic shirts that are..well, some of them are stinking hilarious and others make me worry about the people who designed them.   For anyone interested in looking at some of the other designs, the website is &lt;a href="http://www.threadless.com/"&gt;www.threadless.com&lt;/a&gt;.  Enjoy!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are some of my favorites&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213010741823441026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SFhVpmSuiII/AAAAAAAAABg/qq9CanrwZvs/s200/lemonaid.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lemons in Aid&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213010751341382338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SFhVqJv-ysI/AAAAAAAAAB4/2JmfJs6Z6NU/s200/smore.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In case you ever wondered the "right" way to make a s'more&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213010745346709922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SFhVpzavWaI/AAAAAAAAABo/tw6KcAuHgFo/s200/phobia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Need to know what a certain phobia is called?  Just check out this shirt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213010750881004050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SFhVqICN-hI/AAAAAAAAABw/yAwu8GY8CZ0/s200/skipping+dessert.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And this t-shirt is for who's ever been on a diet.  It's called "Skipping Dessert"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-6064181972836493371?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/6064181972836493371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=6064181972836493371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6064181972836493371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6064181972836493371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-latest-obsession.html' title='My Latest Obsession'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SFhVpmSuiII/AAAAAAAAABg/qq9CanrwZvs/s72-c/lemonaid.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-6002745487418544710</id><published>2008-06-02T20:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T06:31:19.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>California Dreamin'</title><content type='html'>About a month ago, I made a deal with my little brother, Mark. I told him that if he got a solo in his choir finale concert, I'd be there. Three days later, I got an email informing me that I'd better start looking for a ticket home, I think he was holding out on me. So, I spent this weekend in California and had a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pictures from the concert&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the boys from concert choir performing "Men In Tights" from Robin Hood: Men in Tights. Mark is the one in sunglasses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207489515741836034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SES4H8Vc8wI/AAAAAAAAAA4/-q29EA8dgno/s200/DSC00894.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture is from a Footloose medley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207491385251666610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SES50wzVGrI/AAAAAAAAABA/E_M4_1J-FK0/s200/DSC00907.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um...does it seem fair that my "little" brother is taller than me and I'm wearing 3-inch heels? I don't think so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207491394841934226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SES51Uh0-ZI/AAAAAAAAABI/JWCsWizenEA/s200/DSC00913.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture from Descanso Gardens, an amazing botannical garden in LA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207491400278259378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SES51ox8trI/AAAAAAAAABQ/WVFz2w6Rbv0/s200/Descanso_Gardens_016_lg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark hearts me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207491402900105490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SES51yjC6RI/AAAAAAAAABY/HjzdLKcn8Zs/s200/DSC00914.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-6002745487418544710?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/6002745487418544710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=6002745487418544710' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6002745487418544710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6002745487418544710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-think-ive-been-dupped.html' title='California Dreamin&apos;'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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://bp1.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SES4H8Vc8wI/AAAAAAAAAA4/-q29EA8dgno/s72-c/DSC00894.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-5826066111498323181</id><published>2008-05-29T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T19:56:49.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Say What?!?</title><content type='html'>Today began as any other day.  I woke-up, got ready, and left for work.  I needed to go to the office and pick up some supplies, head to the other side of town to service an account, and be back to the office by 10 so I left my house around 6, giving me plenty of time to service the account and be back to the office early.  Well, little did I realize that one man's morning jaunt would send my morning into a tailspin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after getting onto the freeway I saw a sign that announced that the 10-west bound was closed at SR-143.  Now, I know most of you are probably thinking, "what has that to do with the price of rice in China?" but to me, that meant the freeway I needed to use was closed 1 mile before my office, translation....nightmare.  I got to the office in pretty good time and headed back to the freeway to go to my account.  Here's where my headache really began.  I headed out to an on-ramp the local radio station said was open....they LIED.  It took me another 20 minutes to get onto a different freeway and finally be on my way.  Long story short, it took me 2 1/2 hours to make a drive that usually takes about an hour. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the crazy part about the entire accident.  The only person involved in this accident that closed down 5 miles of the busiest freeway in Phoenix for almost 6 hours was a drunk... pedestrian.  He decided it would be a good idea to amble across the freeway around 4:30 in the morning...yah, he didn't quite make it to the other side.  So, here's what I learned this morning... drinking and walking don't mix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the immortal words of Sons of Provo "word a wizzum is the shizzum"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-5826066111498323181?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/5826066111498323181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=5826066111498323181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/5826066111498323181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/5826066111498323181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/05/say-what.html' title='Say What?!?'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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-1768385018995268846.post-7409593934073077916</id><published>2008-05-19T19:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T19:21:56.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode to Claritin</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SDIxxt4AD-I/AAAAAAAAAAw/1UANxR33LMg/s1600-h/claritin-d_box.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202275249764175842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SDIxxt4AD-I/AAAAAAAAAAw/1UANxR33LMg/s200/claritin-d_box.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh, how I love my Claritin-D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It let's me sleep at night&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Keeps my allergies at bay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And all-around makes me happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Okay, so I'm not quite a poet but let me tell you, Claritin-D is amazing. After living for 24 1/2 years allergy-free I have discovered that Arizona is full of allergens that make my life miserable 3 months of the year. I have tried many different allergy medications, but this is the only thing that allows me to sleep without waking up 6 times during the night with a completely stuffed up nose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-7409593934073077916?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/7409593934073077916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=7409593934073077916' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/7409593934073077916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/7409593934073077916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/05/ode-to-claritin.html' title='Ode to Claritin'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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://bp2.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SDIxxt4AD-I/AAAAAAAAAAw/1UANxR33LMg/s72-c/claritin-d_box.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-7845632185117576032</id><published>2008-05-18T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T18:44:10.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfect Day For A BBQ</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I came home from church today and started to wonder what I wanted to make for dinner, the thought came to me, today is a perfect day for a BBQ. So, I marinated some chicken and chopped some vegetables, I was ready to go! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SDDMGd4AD8I/AAAAAAAAAAg/cgCJCyONNXw/s1600-h/DSC00876.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SDDbNt4AD9I/AAAAAAAAAAo/0fg6RqvnrHI/s1600-h/DSC00876.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201898598312185810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SDDbNt4AD9I/AAAAAAAAAAo/0fg6RqvnrHI/s200/DSC00876.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I pulled out a grill that my dad gave me last summer but I hadn't used yet. I cleaned it, put it all back together, and was ready to grill a yummy dinner. Little did I know, the grill was working against me. You see, it's a small gas grill and after spending about a half hour trying to figure out what was wrong, I discovered that the safety mechanism worked a little too well and I have no idea how to fix it. Yes, I already tried duct tape, and that (sadly) did not work &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, at least I still have my trusty George Foreman. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-7845632185117576032?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/7845632185117576032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=7845632185117576032' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/7845632185117576032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/7845632185117576032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/05/perfect-day-for-bbq_18.html' title='Perfect Day For A BBQ'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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://bp0.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SDDbNt4AD9I/AAAAAAAAAAo/0fg6RqvnrHI/s72-c/DSC00876.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1768385018995268846.post-6704576991074848117</id><published>2008-05-12T19:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T19:38:31.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Last Week Was Awesome</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;5: Got an unexpected raise at work!! More details on that to come later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4: As if I needed another reason to love Book Club. While discussing various classic authors, this pearl of wisdom was shared, "Grey's Anatomy is just like a modern-day (Charles) Dickens, dark and twisty." Oh my goodness, I don't think I've ever laughed so much at book club.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3: Had a very wise little sister talk me out of the depths of despair when it felt like the world was crumbling around me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2: Heard parts of "The Work and the Glory" taught across the pulpit as doctrine. I understand the point she was trying to make, but a quick search in any church history book would have resulted in a quote that was actually based in fact.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1: Mother's Day! What a fabulous day to celebrate one of the most important people in our lives. Thanks all you moms for your hard work and love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199681927036014514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SCj7Kd4AD7I/AAAAAAAAAAU/9Qy1sOwzAkA/s200/fam.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1768385018995268846-6704576991074848117?l=triciabartholomew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/feeds/6704576991074848117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1768385018995268846&amp;postID=6704576991074848117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6704576991074848117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1768385018995268846/posts/default/6704576991074848117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://triciabartholomew.blogspot.com/2008/05/why-last-week-was-awesome.html' title='Why Last Week Was Awesome'/><author><name>Tricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07288499265354098061</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://bp3.blogger.com/_wcixjDseZbo/SCj7Kd4AD7I/AAAAAAAAAAU/9Qy1sOwzAkA/s72-c/fam.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
