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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80</id>
  <title>Delightful Distractions!</title>
  <subtitle>Emily Weaver</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>daazy80</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2007-03-14T19:35:49Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="10206751" username="daazy80" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:8879</id>
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    <title>Fence is going up!</title>
    <published>2007-03-14T19:34:13Z</published>
    <updated>2007-03-14T19:34:13Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Yay! We are getting our backyard fenced in!  I can't wait to just let the dog outside without having to watch from the patio to make sure he doesn't wander off anywhere.  I am also excited to be able to lay on my deck and tan this summer....no one will have to see me and run for the hills in terror!  YAY!!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:8502</id>
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    <title>My brain hurts</title>
    <published>2007-03-13T04:07:21Z</published>
    <updated>2007-03-14T19:35:49Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Because we just rented "The Departed" and it was like having to work at watching a movie.  Don't get me wrong, it was really well done, but it was a lot of work following the plot line, and eeew really really violent.  Why is it that you just can't blink when you see someone getting their head blown off in a movie?  It's really morbid, and when the flick is over you feel dirty and icky.   Uck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://rds.yahoo.com/_ylt=A9gnMiJAI_ZFX1MB4VijzbkF;_ylu=X3oDMTBsYnVxczg1BHNlYwNwcm9mBHZ0aWQDSTA2N184OQ--/SIG=14ltijqhf/EXP=1173845184/**http%3A//us.movies1.yimg.com/movies.yahoo.com/images/hv/photo/movie_pix/warner_brothers/the_departed/thedeparted_bigearlyposter.jpg" /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:8413</id>
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    <title>Hello Spring Elephants!</title>
    <published>2007-03-12T22:00:21Z</published>
    <updated>2007-03-12T22:00:21Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Hmm, I sorta kinda forgot to blog for the past, uh, 6 months or so?  I decided that this will be an important part of keeping myself writing everyday.  So I changed the look of my blog.  It's called "Elephant Spring", which is just perfect.  I mean how often do you associate an elephant with spring anyway?  It's fun, it's colorful, it's a fresh start.  I like fresh starts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is nice and warm and fresh outside today!  It is almost 80 degrees and I want to yell and scream and say "Hi Spring!  Glad you finally made it!  Stick around for awhile okay?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a nice feeling to know you have almost made it through another winter.  Everything is new again.  New flowers, new friends to meet, new mornings to sit outside and sip coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New is good don't you think?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:8089</id>
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    <title>How to handle a BAD main character?</title>
    <published>2006-08-23T21:36:50Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-23T21:36:50Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I'm working on a YA that is really bothering me a lot.  The story is based loosely on several different real events, though I'm not making it close enough to actually reference these things.  It deals with some very real teens making very stupid descisions that cause a terrible string of events.  It's hard sometimes, to identify with a character whose behavior is so abhorrent that you would like to reach into the computer and strangle them.  How do you reconcile this?  My main character isn't a BAD person, but she does something truly awful out of fear.  I try to look at her as I would if she were my own daughter, i,e. I love her but don't agree with her behavior, and even though her choice was the wrong one, I want people to see how vulnerable and scared she was, and how that played a part in her bad choice. I want her to be punished in this book, but I don't want that punishment to ruin her life, but her crime was so bad, I think there is no other way than to do just that.  What's a loving author to do??</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:7828</id>
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    <title>Let's help the PB industry!!</title>
    <published>2006-08-22T21:11:20Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-22T21:14:07Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;img src="http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h181/Arabella1978/babies.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Worked on a YA this morning for a bit, and then had to meet with an ADT security system guy.  I swear if anything weird is going to happen, it's going to happen to us.  We had a small scare last night when a car pulled up at 9PM and asked me if we had a security system.  Me, being stupid and well, stupid, said, "oh no we don't"  So today, guess what, we ordered a security system.  Maybe he was just trying to drum up business for the home security industry...who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm encouraged by all the info being posted about the PB industry picking up.  Here's hoping my PB's that are circulating hit an editor's desk just as he/she gets a memo to start aquiring more PB's for the baby boomlet that's happened.  I think we can thank networks like TLC and the Discovery Health Channel, for constantly airing those shows about real women giving birth...it makes having babies seems so desirable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, let's take a pledge...if you are PB writer, I think you should do your part and have another baby in the next year or so...or, if you're past childbearing age, encourage some young newlyweds to have a kiddo or two!  Hey we can all do our part to help out the industry right??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just so you know I had a baby last September, so my quota is fulfilled!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Writing!</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:7533</id>
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    <title>Steamy YA passage comes to life....</title>
    <published>2006-08-17T16:31:34Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-17T19:45:06Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;img src="http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h181/Arabella1978/fire.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there I was last night.  Writing frantically.  The kids were in bed, the husband was watching a pre-season football game,and by the way, are those appearing earlier and earlier every year??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm thinking to myself, "Wow this is getting HOT"  My character is HOT this langauge is HOT...perhaps TOO Hot!  Should I tone this down??  I'm getting a little sweaty here!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat back in my chair, to get away from the hottness for a moment, and I hear my hubby say,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm gonna throw that Apple Bourbon pork loin on the grill!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yumm, that sounded pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I go back to writing, and am really in the groove, the words are just FLYING out of my fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I heard lound banging on the back door to the patio.  It got louder and louder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"EMILY!" I heard my husband yell.  "EMILY CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran out of the office and through the kitchen and when I got to the back door all I could see was one huge fireball!  The propane tank of the grill had a leak and burst into flames when my husband tried to start the grill.  And the worst part is that I saw my husbands arm catch fire right then and there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OH MY GOD!"  I yelled!  "GET THE HOSE RYAN!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I grabbed the phone and dialed 911, and the operator immediately told me to get the kids and get OUT OF THE HOUSE!  GET ACROSS THE ROAD!  THE TANK COULD EXPLODE!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I wanted to go out and see if Ryan was okay.  But I could see he got the fire out on his arm, and was spraying water on the propane tank, which was doing NOTHING for the fire.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"GET OUT!"  the 911 operator told me, "IF IT EXPLODES IT COULD TAKE OUT THE BACKSIDE OF THE HOUSE!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I grabbed my 11 month old out of her crib, and screamed for my 6 year old to get up.  I ran out front with them and stood across the street.  I was screaming for Ryan to "JUST LEAVE IT ALONE!  HURRY UP GET OUT OF THERE!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" the 911 operator yelled, "DON'T TRY TO GO GET HIM!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God the fire department station number 9 is only a mile from us.  The firetruck came screaming into our neighborhood and pushed us even farther down the block.  They ran into the back yard with some kind of special chemical tanks for propane fires and got it out.  My husband has some burns on his arm, nothing major, and the paramedics said he'll be okay.  THANK GOD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had no idea the small propane tanks for a grill could be so dangerous.  I mean who would have thought that if one explodes it could blow up half of the house?  I'm glad I know now, and geez, it makes me want to go out and buy a good ol' charcoal Webber!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lesson is this.  Avoid writing steamy YA passages when your husband is trying to grill.  Fantasy and reality have a strange way of mimicking eachother, if you know what I mean.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:7230</id>
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    <title>If I were to write an episode of Grey's anatomy..</title>
    <published>2006-08-15T19:35:03Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-15T19:35:03Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;img src="http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h181/Arabella1978/greys.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would start off with Meredith looking in the mirror and seeing a reflection of her mother....A CHEATER...!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because that's what she did to the totally hot nice veterinarian when she slept with Dr. Shepard in an exam room, while the totally hot nice vet was waiting for her upstairs at a make shift PROM for a poor teenager with CANCER!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She would say something like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We spend our whole life lamenting about the sins of our parents.  Wondering why they acted the way they did.  Wondering if they knew it would haunt us for the rest of time.  Wondering if we are doomed to repeat their mistakes, and sometimes, we may actually have the chance to make things right, in a way they never did."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then she would march up to Dr. Derek Shepard and say, "Listen here buddy, maybe you're on an ego trip or something, but I'm through with you.  You cheated on your wife with me, and yeah she cheated too, but can you blame her?  You were a total jerk!  I'm not gonna fall for your, "aren't I hot and desriable thing" any more, and I'm going to run into the arms of the totally hot nice veterniarian who is single because his wife DIED in a car accident.  I will love him without making him forget her, and he will love me because he loves me and not because I am an ego trip for him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she would dump a cup of hot coffee on his pants, and his red-headed wife would walk by and say to him, "Yeah what she said."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't that be a great espisode??  Don't you wonder why ABC isn't beating down my door to buy the rights to it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the even bigger question of the day:  What was the deal with this post anywaya?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Answer:  I don't know.  I guess It's been too long since the season finale and I'm starting to go into withdrawl.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tune in tomorrow for my orignal script for a new reality show in which 12 writers are thrown into an underground cave with 2 editors with only 48 hours to convince the editors to publish 5 of their works.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:7078</id>
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    <title>Grandma Question</title>
    <published>2006-08-14T21:23:06Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-14T21:23:06Z</updated>
    <content type="html">This entry is not writing related, but I'm wondering something..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h181/Arabella1978/grandmahands.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes a good grandma??  Do Grandmas love their grandchildren as much as they loved their OWN children?  What do you think?  Is it normal for a Grandma to say that she just isn't as interested in Grandchildren as other grandmas?  IS it normal to tell the parents of your grandchildren that?  Please help me understand these things.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:6743</id>
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    <title>The baby bird has flown away....</title>
    <published>2006-08-10T17:58:26Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-22T23:18:59Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;img src="http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h181/Arabella1978/emptynest.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     They knew the day would come.  It's been haunting them for the last year.  Today is the day my one and only sibling, my baby sister, left for college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     My sister and I are 10 years apart.  Because of this we were really more like only children, since I left for college when my sis was only 8 years old.  My parents have had a child at home for the past 27 years!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    She is going to school 4 hours away from home.  She was offered a full scholarship to play for the womens' soccer team.  It wouldn't be so traumatic except that soccer is a fall sport.  With games every weekend she won't be able to see the inside of home again until Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I talked to all of them this morning on the phone.  First my dad, then my sister, then my mom.  The mood was like someone had died.  My sister could barely get out three syllables before she started crying.  My mom wasn't much better.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Ahh I remember going through this like it was only yesterday.  Is there anything more traumatic than leaving home for the first time??  Is there anything scarier than being plopped down into a new place, a new city, a new lifestyle where you suddenly realize no one would even notice if one night you didn't make it home?  I don't think any other life experience really has the emotional wallop of leaving the nest.  Every other event, getting married, having a baby, etc, happens in conjuction with something else...i.e, you aren't so ALONE, so bereft, so despondent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  It's not any easier for the parents.  I can't even imagine packing my baby into a dorm room, and leaving.  I can't imagine walking by an empty room that is spotless because my offspring is absent.  How quiet and still the house must seem when suddely your child is not there.  My heart breaks for my parents, because now, as a parent myself, I can feel their exquisite pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  At the same time, I envy this exciting new chapter my sister is just starting.  Once the trauma of leaving subsides, she will be experiencing a whole new world of possibilities.  New points of view, new people, new ideas that she hasn't been exposed to before.  Her whole life is there, like a blank book, just waiting to be written..so much promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  My oldest child starts first grade in two weeks.  I now am keenly aware of how fast his school years will fly by.  It seems like only yesterday that my sister was a first grader.  How fleeting childhood is.  How quickly time passes and leaves us only an empty room.  An old drawing on the fridge.  A picture of a chubby baby clutching a long ago thrown away teddy bear.  Each phase of my children's life is better than the last.  I know that this must be true, even when they leave for college.  But today, as my sister is carted off to school in a car loaded with dorm room essentials, laundry detergent, shower caddies, and at least one ton of clothing, it makes me want to keep my babies, babies, for just a little longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; If anyone lives in Illinois, and just HAPPEN to be at a Western Illinois Womens' soccer game this fall, cheer loudly for the strawberry blonde wearing number 7....that's my baby sister.  She'll ALWAYS be my baby sis, no matter how old she grows!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h181/Arabella1978/Leathernecks.jpg" /&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:6435</id>
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    <title>END OF SUMMER BLUES....</title>
    <published>2006-08-09T18:55:05Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-09T18:55:05Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I don't know what to do with myself.  So I just finished a chapter book.  It had been sitting here in my hard drive screaming for a fifth revision.  So I revised it closed my eyes, and hit the 'send' button, flinging it into my agent's inbox.  I want to start something new, but I can't!  Sumemr is drawing to a close and all my son's activities are over...no more golf lessons, tennis lessons or swim team.  That means he's just sitting here bored.  I'm trying to entertain him, but I think we've all just had TOO MUCH SUMMER!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  All his school supplies are bought.  His backpack is sitting in the coat closet.  We found and bought a new power rangers mystic force lunch box thingie at the Disney Store.  But alas, school doesn't start until AUGUST 28th!!  Which means we still have 20 more days of this "I'm bored" stuff to get through!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I'd like to just sit here and begin working on some amazing new piece of writing...but I CAN"T!!  AHH SUMMER, YOU HAVE OVERSTAYED YOUR WELCOME!!  GIVE ME COOL FALL WEATHER!!  GIVE ME A QUIET HOUSE!!  GIVE ME A HAPPY FIRST GRADER WHO WILL COME HOME FULL OF KNOWELEDGE, AND COMPLETELY ZAPPED OF ENERGY!!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:6251</id>
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    <title>Thoughts on Words</title>
    <published>2006-08-08T22:16:26Z</published>
    <updated>2006-08-08T22:16:26Z</updated>
    <content type="html">How many times do you read something that you've submitted.  Do you read it over and over, thinking, "what is the editor thinking about this?"  Do you read your work and think, "Wow this is great!" one minute, and then think, "What was I thinking sending out this rubbish?" the next?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you read other people's writing and wish you had thought of that idea first?  Do you savor words you hear and think, "I'm going to use that delicious word in my next piece?"  Do you live for the wonderful sounds words make when they roll off the tongue?  Do you wonder who came up with such beautiful sounding words like "translucent" or sumptuous words like, "butterscotch"?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you ever wonder how most people can chatter and chatter a thousand words a day and never stop to think about how amazing langauge is, or how powerful words really are?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you find the urge to just write in a beautiful leather bound journal, just because it's smells so yummy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you live for words the way I do?  Rhyming words?  Harsh words?  Beautiful words?  Simple words?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you ever stop and think how much better we have it than animals because we have millions of possibilities for communication?  Possibilities that form with every day, every human connection we make, every emotion we experience?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you stop and think how lucky you are to be a writer of words?  Someone who has a chance to record a piece of the human experience in a way that can touch so many people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How lucky are we?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:6016</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://daazy80.livejournal.com/6016.html"/>
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    <title>daazy80 @ 2006-07-18T13:55:00</title>
    <published>2006-07-18T18:57:38Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-18T18:57:38Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Too Hot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too hot to shop.&lt;br /&gt;Too hot to drive.&lt;br /&gt;Too hot to swim.&lt;br /&gt;Too hot to golf.&lt;br /&gt;Too hot to talk.&lt;br /&gt;Too hot to garden.&lt;br /&gt;Too hot for kids.&lt;br /&gt;Too hot for Moms.&lt;br /&gt;Too hot for writing.&lt;br /&gt;Too hot to breathe.&lt;br /&gt;Too hot to move.&lt;br /&gt;Too hot to sweat.&lt;br /&gt;Too hot.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:5712</id>
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    <title>A little rhyme.....</title>
    <published>2006-07-13T21:43:07Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-13T21:43:07Z</updated>
    <content type="html">The world would be a nicer place,&lt;br /&gt;                If poetry was present more. &lt;br /&gt;                For words are more enchanting,&lt;br /&gt;                when they're given wings to soar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                If only all the billboard signs,&lt;br /&gt;                said things like,'let your heart be glad!',&lt;br /&gt;                If meter maids could speak in verse,&lt;br /&gt;                the fine just wouldn't be so bad.&lt;br /&gt;                &lt;br /&gt;                If Frost and Dickinson were here,&lt;br /&gt;                I wonder what they'd like to say,&lt;br /&gt;                Perhaps they'd offer this advice,&lt;br /&gt;                to 'read a poem or two each day'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                Our words could use a litte lift,&lt;br /&gt;                a nudge from time to time,&lt;br /&gt;                What better way, then this, I say&lt;br /&gt;                to read a little rhyme?!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:5550</id>
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    <title>Is there room for more Seuss-like PB's??  What do you think?</title>
    <published>2006-07-06T19:17:12Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-06T19:35:32Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Everyone always says that there will never be another Seuss.  And there won't...never, never, never!  In my opinion, much of Seuss's brilliance came from the nonsensical rhyming words, that gave his pieces such a rollicking spin.  I can't imagine most editors these days would get away with publishing words and phrases that are completely made up...at least not on a regular basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, what do you think?  Is there room for more seuss-like rhyming?  Is there room on the market for longer PB's like that?  Say over 1200 words??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's imagine that a Picture Book in rhyme, has that same sort of appeal, sans the nonsense words?  Do you think it would be publishable in this day and age?  Or are parents so pressed for time, that longer reads at bedtime just aren't practical anymore??  I'd love to know what you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I'm playing 'Red Light, Green Light' with the others who entered Cynthea Liu's free-tique round.  So far I have had all green lights, and I just sent page four of the picture book I entered....keeping my fingers crossed that the green lights will keep on comin!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Writing!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:5337</id>
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    <title>the poet and the pimp</title>
    <published>2006-07-06T00:59:43Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-06T00:59:43Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Hmm...no surprise here huh??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width="350" align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#999999" align="center"&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style="color:black; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Should Be A Poet&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#CCCCCC"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whattypeofwritershouldyoubequiz/poet.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You craft words well, in creative and unexpected ways.&lt;br /&gt;And you have a great talent for evoking beautiful imagery...&lt;br /&gt;Or describing the most intense heartbreak ever.&lt;br /&gt;You're already naturally a poet, even if you've never written a poem.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whattypeofwritershouldyoubequiz/"&gt;What Type of Writer Should You Be?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one, a little more surprising...  tee hee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width="350" align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#999999" align="center"&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style="color:black; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your Pimp Name Is...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#CCCCCC"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/pimpnamegenerator/girl.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nurse Bling&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/pimpnamegenerator/"&gt;What's Your Pimp Name?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:5067</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://daazy80.livejournal.com/5067.html"/>
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    <title>Fireworks and Guilt</title>
    <published>2006-07-05T18:39:14Z</published>
    <updated>2006-07-05T18:39:14Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Our country club's fireworks last night played tribute to New Orleans.  They set the display to the bluesy jazzy music of the French Quarter...it was really nice.  Well, another 4th of July down...that means the summer is basically half over!  :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of half-over...I have a ton of stuff that is only 'half' down.  Several PB's and a YA.  The PB's I know I can tackle, but the YA is just going to have to wait until late August.  At first I felt guilty about this, but there's really nothing I can do about it.  I am constantly on the go, carting my son to swim team, swimming lessons, golf lessons and tennis lessons...not to mention trying to fit in grocery shopping and housework.  I'd love to sit down at my desk for a 6 hours stretch and just write write write my YA, but I can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm not going to feel guilty about it anymore.  What good does that do??  It just makes it harder to work on the things that I DO have time to do...like my PB's.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've noticed that writers tend to pile guilt on themselves.  Guilt for not writing enough words at a time, or surfing the internet too much, or not revising 4 chapters, etc.  I'm here to tell you all to stop piling the guilt on yourself.  Guilt is a terrible emotion, and more importantly I've found that it COMPLETELY blocks the flow of creativity, which is a catch 22, because when we get writer's block we feel even MORE guilty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let guilt haunt you no more.  Go out in the sunshine, smell a flower, read a book, sit by the pool.  Your manuscript will still be waiting for you when you are relaxed and refreshed, and re-energized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Writing!!</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:4004</id>
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    <title>The scallop stink....</title>
    <published>2006-05-30T18:09:30Z</published>
    <updated>2006-05-30T18:09:30Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;img src="http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h181/Arabella1978/scallops.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love scallops...don't you?  When they are prepared correctly I think they taste better than lobster....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he he&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well we left for my baby sister's high school graduation last Friday night, after my husband had prepared a yummy dinner of broiled scallops...yummm....However, my dear husband forgot to wipe up the scallop juice that had dripped on the shelf in the fridge while they were thawing out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we returned last night, I opened up the fridge, and it smelled like something had died right there in the middle of my kitchen.  My six year old gagged so badly that he ran into the bathroom and threw up.  It was undeniably the worst smelling thing that I have ever had in my home.  We scrubbed the fridge out with anti-bacterial cleaner..(well my husband did, because it was afterall HIS fault)!  And this morning when I opened the door, the terrible smell was now just as strong as ever, with a new lemony twist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All morning I have been scrubbing, washing and sterlizing every surface in the damn thing, and it STILL smells like rotting seafood.  I had to throw away everything in there, because all the food had soaked up the aroma of rotten scallop juice.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was up to my elbows in stink, the phone rang, and my mother in law tells me she is coming for three days, and will be here at five tonight.  You have no idea how much I am in a panic...if she smells the inside of the fridge she will probably call the 'wife police' and have me promptly arrested for allowing her baby boy and grandchildren to live in such squalor...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone knows how to get the smells of putrid shellfish out of the fridge I would be much obliged....</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:3805</id>
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    <title>daazy80 @ 2006-05-25T17:57:00</title>
    <published>2006-05-25T23:00:35Z</published>
    <updated>2006-05-25T23:00:35Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I really need to be doing lots of things right now.  Expressly Writing, and revising a YA that I have been putting on the back burner for awhile...and yet here I sit, blogging, eating a godiva chocolate, and wondering if at some point in the distant future my words will be remembered.  Probably not if I keep sitting here, eating chocolate and blogging..  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it sounds cheesey, but when i really think about my writing, it isn't about making money or getting rich....it's about someone in the distant future reading my words, and contemplating who I once was.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, chocolate sure is a good thing...</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:3415</id>
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    <title>daazy80 @ 2006-05-25T15:08:00</title>
    <published>2006-05-25T20:09:43Z</published>
    <updated>2006-05-25T20:09:43Z</updated>
    <content type="html">If there's one thing I hate, it's people who try to take advantage of new writers just starting out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are host of them out there,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is one to stay away from:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sfwa.org/beware/twentyworst.html"&gt;Barbara Bauer&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy writing!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:3183</id>
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    <title>daazy80 @ 2006-05-23T14:30:00</title>
    <published>2006-05-23T19:30:59Z</published>
    <updated>2006-05-23T19:30:59Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I've gotten around more than I realized!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.world66.com/myworld66/visitedStates/statemap?visited=ARCADCFLIDILINIAKSMDMAMIMNMOMTNENMNYNDOHOKPASDTNTXWAWI"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.world66.com/myworld66"&gt;create your own personalized map of the USA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.world66.com/myworld66/visitedCountries/worldmap?visited=CAUSMXAWBSBMDOHTJMLCVIATBEDKFIFRDEITNLNOESSECHUK"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.world66.com/myworld66"&gt;create your own visited country map&lt;/a&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:3003</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://daazy80.livejournal.com/3003.html"/>
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    <title>The Weim the poof and the shower</title>
    <published>2006-05-22T17:26:05Z</published>
    <updated>2006-05-22T18:07:07Z</updated>
    <content type="html">What is it about a tub full of water that terrifies me so much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well if it involves a slightly quirky Weimaraner, I think that I need not answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duke is the family dog, whom we love dearly.  This is in spite of his penchant for eating tin foil, diapers and grass.  He loves our children, and is very gentle...(unless they themselves have just gotten out of the bath, in which case his sole mission seems to be to knock them over in the mud somewhere).  I even overlooked the slight mishap of his nose poking a hole int he wall after he came careening across the woodfloor in the kitched upon hearing a new package of beggin' strips being opened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But right now, I'm sitting here typing, smelling of wet dog,reminding myself of the wonderful personality of weims, and trying to remember where the box containing the wet-dry vac may be hiding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Duke likes to take baths in the big jetted tub in the master bath.  Who can blame him right??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well usually, he is very calm and I can leave him in the tub unsupervised, for say, up to a minute while I find the special stack of towels reserved solely for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today though, he decided he wasn't in the mood for  a bath...he wanted a shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I left the room for perhaps thirty seconds at most, and I'm digging through the linen closet in the hallway when I hear what sounds like the shower starting up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I raced into the bathroom, and my beloved blue-eyed beast has pulled my pink shower poof off of the faucet and is chewing on it.  Only thing is, the poof was hanging on the little pull-up lever that re-directs the water up to the shower head, and yep, when he pulled it off, the shower came on.  Of course, the shower curtain wasn't closed, and there is literally water on EVERY surface in the master bath right now.  EVERYWHERE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duke just sat in the tub looking at me, and seemed to be saying, "What'd I'd do?".  AGHHH....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aghhh...in my next life I think I'll be a cat person....Nah...too boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/daazy80/pic/00006hs3/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/daazy80/pic/00006hs3/s320x240" width="320" height="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:2652</id>
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    <title>Cock-a-doodle dandy!!</title>
    <published>2006-05-19T23:10:41Z</published>
    <updated>2006-05-19T23:10:41Z</updated>
    <content type="html">We all think our kids are talented....and they are!  Sometimes though, it's a little humbling to see a super child, a semi-genius, and then in comparison, our kids look like, well kids...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night was the kindergarten end of the year performance...we all filed into the gym at 6:45 pm SHARP, and waited patiently for the show to begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow...in my day, a kindergarten concert was you know, just kindergartners singing...not anymore.  This was a mini-broadway production, with a light guy and a sound operator, and even a full set!  There was a big marquis thing set up over the stage with flashing lights, and a big sign that "COCK-A-DOODLE DANDY" TONIGHT AT 7PM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the kids come on stage, all dressed in impeccable costumes and the show begins with a choreographed song thingie, and all the kids square dance around and actually look pretty in sync, and I'm thinking, wow, look at my little man.  He knows all the moves, he looks so dapper, he is a TALENTED KID!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, the star of the show appears...a beautiful little thing with blonde curls and bright blue eyes, yes she is the lead role, she is cock-a-doodle dandy.  This little girl sang solos, she tap danced she even rapped.  In comparison the other kids looked clumsy and amatuerish...but she was a star. &lt;br /&gt;Her lines were all perfect, and she spoke them clearly, and in rhythm, it was really very impressive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the big finale, my little cowboy ran into my arms, asking my husband and I how he did.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You were wonderful," we tell him, "You were the star of the show!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I didn't get to be cock-a-doodle dandy," he tells us, "i wasn't really the star!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think about the blonde curls, and rapping and tap dancing, and wish that I could tell him that he would have been a better cock-a-doodle dandy than her, but, honestly I don't think that he could have memorized all those fancy lines, or rapped on cue.  It's the first time that I have ever wondered how I should tell my child that there will always be somebody more talented, luckier, or better looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband summed it up for me, and you know, I can't believe I didn't think of this myself,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But you got to wear red cowboy boots," he told my son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah he yells, that's better than tap shoes!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah yes, there will always be someone more talented, but in the end, red cowboy boots will always win out in my book. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h181/Arabella1978/cowboyboots.jpg" /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:2400</id>
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    <title>A kick in the pants!</title>
    <published>2006-05-17T21:35:37Z</published>
    <updated>2006-05-17T21:36:28Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Sometimes I read this just to give myself a little kick in the pants.  Longfellow is my all time favorite poet, and this, my favorite of his poems.  Maybe it will give someone else a little kick in the pants today as well!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)&lt;br /&gt;            A PSALM OF LIFE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN&lt;br /&gt;                    SAID TO THE PSALMIST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt; TELL me not, in mournful numbers, &lt;br /&gt;        Life is but an empty dream ! — &lt;br /&gt;    For the soul is dead that slumbers, &lt;br /&gt;        And things are not what they seem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Life is real !   Life is earnest! &lt;br /&gt;        And the grave is not its goal ; &lt;br /&gt;    Dust thou art, to dust returnest, &lt;br /&gt;        Was not spoken of the soul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, &lt;br /&gt;        Is our destined end or way ; &lt;br /&gt;    But to act, that each to-morrow &lt;br /&gt;        Find us farther than to-day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Art is long, and Time is fleeting, &lt;br /&gt;        And our hearts, though stout and brave, &lt;br /&gt;    Still, like muffled drums, are beating &lt;br /&gt;        Funeral marches to the grave. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    In the world's broad field of battle, &lt;br /&gt;        In the bivouac of Life, &lt;br /&gt;    Be not like dumb, driven cattle ! &lt;br /&gt;        Be a hero in the strife ! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant ! &lt;br /&gt;        Let the dead Past bury its dead ! &lt;br /&gt;    Act,— act in the living Present ! &lt;br /&gt;        Heart within, and God o'erhead ! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Lives of great men all remind us &lt;br /&gt;        We can make our lives sublime, &lt;br /&gt;    And, departing, leave behind us &lt;br /&gt;        Footprints on the sands of time ; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Footprints, that perhaps another, &lt;br /&gt;        Sailing o'er life's solemn main, &lt;br /&gt;    A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, &lt;br /&gt;        Seeing, shall take heart again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Let us, then, be up and doing, &lt;br /&gt;        With a heart for any fate ; &lt;br /&gt;    Still achieving, still pursuing, &lt;br /&gt;        Learn to labor and to wait.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:2091</id>
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    <title>You just never know....</title>
    <published>2006-05-16T21:24:45Z</published>
    <updated>2006-05-16T21:24:45Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Found out that I guy I know pretty well, was recently arrested for taking nude pictures of little girls last week.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just goes to show you, that you can never really know someone.  Just because they seem clean cut, and normal, doesn't mean that they aren't hiding some dangerous tendencies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy was actually a former in-law of mine.  Married to my Sister-In Law, though they are now divorced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He convinced three junior high age girls to come back with him to his home where he took nude photos of them.  Apparently he paid them each fifty bucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It terrifies me, because you would A. Think you would know if someone was capable of that and B. You'd think that junior high aged girls aught to know better than to get in a car with a complete stranger and take of their clothes for him to take pictures!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes me want to keep my daughter a baby forever, there are so many creepy people in this world.  Oh, and by the way, he "met" these girls on my space.com or something similiar.  So moms and dads out there, be vigilant, because you just never know.  This guy would never have been someone you would peg as a child molester, but it just goes to show, you just never know.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:daazy80:1852</id>
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    <title>Leading Dame...</title>
    <published>2006-05-12T14:08:39Z</published>
    <updated>2006-05-12T14:08:39Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;table cellpadding="20" align="center"&gt;
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&lt;td align="middle"&gt;&lt;font size="5"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jean Arthur&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;You scored 21% grit, 33% wit, 33% flair, and 28% class! &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&lt;td&gt;You are a little bit of everything: smart, nutty, classy, and even a little scheming when you need to be. However, you aren't exactly the most effective dame around, as you're sometimes given to fainting and mumbling incoherently. But you're pretty steadfast and true, and might I add, cute as a button, even if you're not sure exactly what you want. Still, you end up with the likes of Jimmy Stewart and Cary Grant...not too shabby! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Find out what kind of classic leading man you'd make by taking the &lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=8651547809586515731"&gt;Classic Leading Man Test&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&lt;td align="middle"&gt;&lt;img src="http://is1.okcupid.com/users/850/490/8504912322575776397/mt1124295450.jpg"&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="20"&gt;
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&lt;td&gt;&lt;span&gt;My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people &lt;i&gt;your age and gender&lt;/i&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="4" cellpadding="0" border="0"&gt;
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&lt;td valign="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="1" cellpadding="0" bgcolor="black" border="0"&gt;
&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td width="75" bgcolor="#b2cfff" height="20"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/"&gt;&lt;img alt="free online dating" src="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td width="75" bgcolor="white"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/"&gt;&lt;img alt="free online dating" src="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td valign="center"&gt;You scored higher than &lt;b&gt;50%&lt;/b&gt; on &lt;b&gt;grit&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td valign="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="1" cellpadding="0" bgcolor="black" border="0"&gt;
&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td width="101" bgcolor="#b2cfff" height="20"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/"&gt;&lt;img alt="free online dating" src="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td width="49" bgcolor="white"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/"&gt;&lt;img alt="free online dating" src="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td valign="center"&gt;You scored higher than &lt;b&gt;67%&lt;/b&gt; on &lt;b&gt;wit&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td valign="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="1" cellpadding="0" bgcolor="black" border="0"&gt;
&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td width="36" bgcolor="#b2cfff" height="20"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/"&gt;&lt;img alt="free online dating" src="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td width="114" bgcolor="white"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/"&gt;&lt;img alt="free online dating" src="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td valign="center"&gt;You scored higher than &lt;b&gt;24%&lt;/b&gt; on &lt;b&gt;flair&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td valign="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="1" cellpadding="0" bgcolor="black" border="0"&gt;
&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;
&lt;td width="78" bgcolor="#b2cfff" height="20"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/"&gt;&lt;img alt="free online dating" src="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td width="72" bgcolor="white"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/"&gt;&lt;img alt="free online dating" src="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
&lt;td valign="center"&gt;You scored higher than &lt;b&gt;52%&lt;/b&gt; on &lt;b&gt;class&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="20"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Link: &lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=4621123663119520922"&gt;The Classic Dames Test&lt;/a&gt; written by &lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/profile?tuid=8504912322575776397"&gt;gidgetgoes&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com"&gt;Ok Cupid&lt;/a&gt;, home of the &lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/oktest3"&gt;32-Type Dating Test&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;</content>
  </entry>
</feed>
