<?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-8401545073575626245</id><updated>2012-02-16T00:51:00.239-08:00</updated><category term='home'/><category term='cooking'/><category term='nyfw'/><category term='YouTube'/><category term='living space'/><category term='fashion'/><category term='I Hate Young People'/><category term='To Kill A Mockingbird'/><category term='wedding'/><title type='text'>Pugnacious Me</title><subtitle type='html'>def. adj. Eager to fight.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-6545180759785716774</id><published>2009-07-14T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T20:13:27.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What I Want Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.radiotania.org/images/san-francisco.jpg"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "&gt;A quick list of what I want now:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;a dark tan with no skin cancer. Oh wait. You get that from a spray machine.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;white teeth. Totally achievable if I stopped drinking delish red wine. Sounds attainable. Harder than it sounds. Swapped a Corona tonight. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;someone to plan the rest of the wedding for me. Again, I should have invested in someone who does that for a living. Or just taken the money and run. That's a warning to all you single ladies. Think before you plan.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;finally--a trip to San Francisco. That I get in six weeks. I want it now though. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's all. Loves ya.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sarah&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/8401545073575626245-6545180759785716774?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/6545180759785716774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=6545180759785716774' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6545180759785716774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6545180759785716774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-i-want-now.html' title='What I Want Now'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-6130634961695040470</id><published>2009-03-01T06:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T06:54:00.589-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='living space'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>Stalking Home</title><content type='html'>Aaron plans to move to Dallas in May. I personally cannot wait.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has been since last May that we actually got to live in the same city. First I was in NYC for the summer. Then after a short two week break in OKC, I moved to Dallas to start a new job. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ever since then we have been commuting back and forth to Dallas and OKC respectively. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am ready for him to move. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And so I have been slowly stalking our home. He will move into the apartment we pick and then I will move in once we are married in August. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We want something close to downtown, but reasonably priced. OH! And not a studio because Aaron is a night owl and I am a early bird. Last night Aaron sent me this text at midnight last night:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;And every little thing you do, baby I'm amazed by you--kereoke at don quixote&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;I was already asleep in bed. I sent him back a thank you text at 7:20 when I woke up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We will eventually find our place. But until then, I'm thinking perhaps Aaron and I can build one of these:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oJAaMQuEFl8&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oJAaMQuEFl8&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&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/8401545073575626245-6130634961695040470?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/6130634961695040470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=6130634961695040470' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6130634961695040470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6130634961695040470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2009/03/stalking-home.html' title='Stalking Home'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-4132192331667244944</id><published>2009-02-16T18:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T18:28:52.641-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nyfw'/><title type='text'>New York Fashion Week</title><content type='html'>I should be finding a photographer, securing hotel rooms, discovering a reception band, and sending save the dates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://s3.amazonaws.com/twitter_production/profile_images/74878014/cut-twitter-01.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;Instead, I'm glued to #nyfw. It is like I'm there with @&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/cutblog"&gt;CutBlog&lt;/a&gt;, @&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/marieclaire"&gt;MarieClaire&lt;/a&gt;, @&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/booth1"&gt;Booth1&lt;/a&gt; and @&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/nordstrom"&gt;Nordstroms&lt;/a&gt;. And I'm finding more fashion lovers by simply searching #nyfw in twitter search. The much anticipated Marc Jacobs' show must be amazing with the crazy hair, make and sholder pads. I've yet to see anything. The blogs don't have photos. But by piecing together a few spectators tweets, I know that what the runways are like. Models have fallen and there has been a crying out for shorter shoes. In a very PETA sort of way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Either way. "I Die" for DVF and Marc and all the others. &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/8401545073575626245-4132192331667244944?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/4132192331667244944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=4132192331667244944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/4132192331667244944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/4132192331667244944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2009/02/new-york-fashion-week.html' title='New York Fashion Week'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-8746643097366832595</id><published>2009-02-14T10:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T10:20:33.521-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day and engagement</title><content type='html'>I first met Aaron in a dorm room. I was dating someone else, and wasn't looking for a new lovah. And I might have been a tad bitchy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reintroduced to him at a singles Valentine's Day party. I knew I immediately liked him. And started to flirt. He just thought I was weird. And wondered why I kept sliding down towards him on the couch. He kept moving farther away. Damn him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally caught him. Five years later we still are spending Valentine's Day together. But I think this year we will be mutually flirting. And spending time with my favorite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I need to figure out what I'm wearing. At least my heart will be on my sleeve. Or on my hand. In the form of a ring. Okay that was a tad cheesy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-8746643097366832595?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/8746643097366832595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=8746643097366832595' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/8746643097366832595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/8746643097366832595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentines-day-and-engagement.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day and engagement'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-2814478198752695994</id><published>2009-02-07T12:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T14:09:56.286-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wedding'/><title type='text'>The Wedding Site and the picky Fiance</title><content type='html'>So Fiance has more of a wedding fantasy than I do. When we were deciding on WHERE to get married--well--he had his mind set of a few criteria:&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;a Disciples of Christ church--did I mention his father is minister? Oh yea and we're not getting married at his church&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A pipe organ--b/c his uncle is classical trained on the beast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A pretty church--aka no mod 60s or late 80s contemp interiors&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Some what small--I want no more than 150 people there and I don't want it to look empty&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well. We found the perfect place. It is Crown Heights Christian Church in Oklahoma City, OK.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY33QSNW7wI/AAAAAAAAAC4/S1uK942ow0I/s320/IMG_0267.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300164195622776578" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Pipe organ? Check. Disciples of Christ? Check. Pretty? Check. Small? Check.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY33mo0k27I/AAAAAAAAADA/DW0qLYX4ubU/s320/IMG_0269.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300164195622776578" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And so. It has been decided. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Also. Aaron set up a Knot page some where. And then we decided to do a &lt;a href="http://sarahandaarongetmarried.tumblr.com/"&gt;tumblr page&lt;/a&gt;. We still need to flush it out. But at least it is there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Enjoy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/8401545073575626245-2814478198752695994?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/2814478198752695994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=2814478198752695994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/2814478198752695994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/2814478198752695994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2009/02/wedding-site-and-picky-fiance.html' title='The Wedding Site and the picky Fiance'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY33QSNW7wI/AAAAAAAAAC4/S1uK942ow0I/s72-c/IMG_0267.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-5765694720166012760</id><published>2008-11-22T09:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T14:10:37.465-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wedding'/><title type='text'>Wedding Planning: The Dress</title><content type='html'>So, I will admit that I have not blogged in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that is because I have become addicted--or at least infatuated--to &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/sarahtsolomon"&gt;Twitter&lt;/a&gt;. It is the lazy man's blog. And, well, I am a lazy man--err, woman--at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have promised to post about my wedding planning--so here goes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will post Wedding Planning Post based on details of the actual day.  Today, I will discuss The Dress. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After Aaron proposed, I immediately started thinking about dresses. I began thumbing thru magazines, looking at styles, imagining The Day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not the big, princess pouffy dress girl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 243px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SSinPE4p5WI/AAAAAAAAACI/_HbkwMeE7sE/s320/Jane-Wang-10650-large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271647241288410466" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And this see-through biz-nass is just not my style.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 243px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SSin5wJ9CPI/AAAAAAAAACY/B5-Qbgv8_Ho/s320/Pnina-Tornai-11463-large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271647974458198258" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And was thinking something with straps or something very demure and slimming. And with straps. Did I say I didn't want to look like every other bride?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 223px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SSipa_QSgqI/AAAAAAAAACg/zdTSOnuHIAY/s320/paloma-blanca-3912.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271649644958614178" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When my little sister--RaeBabe--was coming to NYC, the MOB suggested we go to &lt;a href="http://www.kleinfeldbridal.com/index.cfm"&gt;Kleinfeld's &lt;/a&gt;to check out dresses and just have fun. I agreed and booked an appointment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Little did I know I would get my dress that day. I brought all my pictures. Told myself I would not buy a dress that day. And took a taxi--not the subway!--down to 20th and 6th. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The consultant--RaeBabe of course knows her name and I have forgotten--looked at my pictures and looked me up and down. Said she would pull some dresses and why don't RaeBabe and I look at the dresses at the trunk show.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We picked out a few dresses--like I said, it wasn't serious--and I immediately put on a&lt;a href="http://www.amsale.com/bridal/bluelabel/080211/080211590.shtml"&gt; beautiful Amsale dress.&lt;/a&gt; (Aaron DO NOT LOOK AT THIS LINK)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And needless to say, it was perfect. And totally nothing like I had imagined. Slightly poufy, but still demure. Strapless. I was in love. And steely RaeBabe who never cries at anything...teared up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I tried on the other dresses. I looked boob-a-licious and curvaceous. But not bridal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 243px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SSirxWpeF8I/AAAAAAAAACo/2QGt0m-ImkM/s320/Alvina-Valenta-10747-large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271652228218623938" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And after webcasting with my parents--my mother uttered a sob and dad was speachless--I bought the first dress I tried on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later this fall--during the Amsale trunk show in Dallas--my mama and I made a faux bridal appointment to try on my dress. She saw it and loved it. And I fell in love all over again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wedding is August 29, 2009. So much planning and still a ton of time!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-5765694720166012760?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/5765694720166012760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=5765694720166012760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/5765694720166012760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/5765694720166012760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/11/wedding-planning-dress.html' title='Wedding Planning: The Dress'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SSinPE4p5WI/AAAAAAAAACI/_HbkwMeE7sE/s72-c/Jane-Wang-10650-large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-1313792754252705177</id><published>2008-09-16T12:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T12:53:46.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pugnacious Word Cloud</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://wordle.net/gallery/wrdl/190816/Untitled"title="Wordle: Untitled"&gt;&lt;img src="http://wordle.net/thumb/wrdl/190816/Untitled" style="padding:4px;border:1px solid #ddd"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-1313792754252705177?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/1313792754252705177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=1313792754252705177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/1313792754252705177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/1313792754252705177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/09/pugnacious-word-cloud.html' title='Pugnacious Word Cloud'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-3191672525298284388</id><published>2008-09-14T12:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T12:30:08.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nomadic Living</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SM1mM3EGdhI/AAAAAAAAABI/OYw6cs_LYXU/s1600-h/IMG_0275.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SM1mM3EGdhI/AAAAAAAAABI/OYw6cs_LYXU/s320/IMG_0275.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245961512082109970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confined closet space. Limited clothing (and shoe!) selection. Fast food wrappers. Empty diet-coke cans. Le sigh. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am living in The Village, Dallas while working on my second internship. Next week, my parents will be moving to Dallas and I will be living with them. Until then, a benevolent sorority sister offered to let me stay with her and her newly-wed husband. A little awkward, but she has been incredibly nice to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the past three weeks I have been homeless. After arriving in OKC from NYC, I stayed with my grandmother. At doctors appointments and healthcare cobra meetings, I gave my parents San Antonio address. But I was not living there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Two weeks later, I moved in with sorority sistah and hubby. Not wanting to appear like Cousin Eddy in &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0097958/"&gt;National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, I brought only the essentials. I must say, forgoing my complete shoe collection has been tough. And I also left all casual clothes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot wait for my parents to move so I will no longer be nomadic. What college grad ever said that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-3191672525298284388?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/3191672525298284388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=3191672525298284388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/3191672525298284388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/3191672525298284388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/09/nomadic-living.html' title='Nomadic Living'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SM1mM3EGdhI/AAAAAAAAABI/OYw6cs_LYXU/s72-c/IMG_0275.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-8239590072836930037</id><published>2008-08-24T15:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T09:51:15.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Post-Brooklyn</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.suprmchaos.com/dale-evans_1945.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.suprmchaos.com/dale-evans_1945.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I start this, I would like to say I had no internet for the past week in my sublet. Thus, I was forced to forgo my plans of posting while in Brooklyn. I apologize. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Brooklyn is not the new Manhattan. Brooklyn is the borough for baby-makers, hipsters without money, and people plotting to move into the city. Brooklyn is perfect for those people. Not for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I loved Brooklyn. It is the small town I never lived in--I always grew up in the 'burbs of big cities, namely St. Louis and San Antonio. The tiny, locally-owned shops called out to me every time I passed. I walked in a few and found the clothing just as expensive as in Manhattan. Boo! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yet, Brookyln is exceptionally domestic--babies and dogs galore. And, while I do consider myself a &lt;a href="http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/03/domestic-goddess.html"&gt;domestic goddess&lt;/a&gt;, I refuse to be a domestic mortal. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want action. I need excitement. I am ready to start a career. I am 23. Newly engaged. Excited about life and love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yet, why are all my friends focused on domestication? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please spread the word. Don't fence me in. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-8239590072836930037?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/8239590072836930037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=8239590072836930037' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/8239590072836930037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/8239590072836930037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/08/post-brooklyn.html' title='Post-Brooklyn'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-7825639784978842004</id><published>2008-08-16T04:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T07:13:01.220-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SKbC3STRE5I/AAAAAAAAABA/GkWJFUmWoo8/s1600-h/Photo+130.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SKbC3STRE5I/AAAAAAAAABA/GkWJFUmWoo8/s320/Photo+130.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235085871926023058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I utterly despise moving.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The packing. The planning. The lifting. I really hate the lifting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And that it is such my luck that I was born into a transient family. I have moved with my family six times--not including rent houses. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And, I have yet to settle into a house of my own. So I have been nomadically drifting from rent house to rent house. Right now I am at a dorm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No, I have not started my college years again. But, I have spent the summer in the big NYC. And in an effort to shirk craigslist--it was a pain to sift through--I paid the extra money to live in "quality student living" which really means a dorm room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now, I am packing. And have a check out time a 9:30. I do not mind the packing--I am pretty organized and my mother trained me to roll, fold, and using every space available in a suitcase. But I am not looking forward to the lifting. I think that it dates back to my mother telling me to lug box after box to the car or moving van. My nickname was the "Pack Mule."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am moving to Brooklyn for a week during the last bit of my internship. I will let you know how it goes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-7825639784978842004?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/7825639784978842004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=7825639784978842004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/7825639784978842004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/7825639784978842004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/08/moving-out.html' title='Moving Out'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SKbC3STRE5I/AAAAAAAAABA/GkWJFUmWoo8/s72-c/Photo+130.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-7776603344377740365</id><published>2008-08-06T17:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T17:20:56.887-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NYC Wendy's Chili</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v56/ottoautopilot/wendys-chili.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v56/ottoautopilot/wendys-chili.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right. NYC Wendy's Chili has made up my mind that I must live in the South.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mother always got the hearty blend of beans and ground beef. She claimed it was healthy. Later in my teen years, I started to see her point. Delish. Filling. And best of all--no white carbs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was starving Tuesday. Mark--my precious building mate who is a full blood, All-American male who is always hungry--stopped by my desk and offered to go get lunch at Wendy's with me. Automatically, I started craving Wendy's Chili.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After ordering a classic Wendy's meal--large chili, medium fries (hey, I can't always be healthy) and a chocolate frosty (did I mention I felt low on calcium?)--I settled down to chow down on some hearty chili. I was disappointed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Much to my chagrin, the chili turned out to be a watery, sad version of Wendy's chili! I lamented over the fact that NYC does not know how to make Wendy's chili. Nearly tearful for the thick chili of my childhood. And I decided.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to live in the South. Perhaps Dallas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A girl needs to have direction in her life. And I am feeling like I need to pick a geographic area to find a job since this internship is ending soon. With food always on my mind, I can think of no better place to settle down right now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All because of watery Wendy's Chili. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-7776603344377740365?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/7776603344377740365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=7776603344377740365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/7776603344377740365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/7776603344377740365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/08/nyc-wendys-chili.html' title='NYC Wendy&apos;s Chili'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-8957668055832913402</id><published>2008-07-20T10:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T11:12:05.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dancing Queen</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dc.state.fl.us/oth/timeline/images/1932/1956_fci_beauty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.dc.state.fl.us/oth/timeline/images/1932/1956_fci_beauty.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get it from my grandmother and my father. Something about a good beat thumping across the room makes my body begin to move and shake in time. I cannot help it. I love to dance.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saturday, my suite mates and I went to the &lt;a href="http://www.beautybar.com/ny/home.html"&gt;Beauty Bar&lt;/a&gt; to have a few drinks. But instead of schmoozing and sipping cocktails, we were delighted to find an electric dance floor amidst the retro, salon inspired bar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The DJ made me feel like I was back in middle school dancing with abandon. &lt;a href="http://djdimitry.com/"&gt;DJ Dimitry&lt;/a&gt; mixed it up with 70's disco hits, 80's pop music--think "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun", old school rap and recent hits. I was jumping up and down, bopping to the music for two hours without even realizing it! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Granted I was a slick mess when I left. I will admit I had lost my hair tie, and was eyeing the one I saw on the floor. But alas, I did not grab the dirty hair tie and went without.  The cab ride home was steamy--literally with no or little AC and a cab driver who refused to pick a popular radio station for my Finnish roommate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Overall, the night was good and at the end I felt like I was 12 again dancing in my room with not a care in the world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-8957668055832913402?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/8957668055832913402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=8957668055832913402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/8957668055832913402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/8957668055832913402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/07/dancing-queen.html' title='Dancing Queen'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-611158102857372686</id><published>2008-07-06T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T20:04:24.847-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Engagement</title><content type='html'>Writing this post is a tad surreal. But I am engaged. Even now as I say it, one of those silly smiles spreads on my face. AH! I am engaged! Yea! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But right now I feel more inclined to talk about a conversation I had with my fiancee--Aaron--this morning. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I goes without saying that I am a morning person. I struggle to stay asleep past eight when everyone else is blissfulling snoozing. But on the other hand, I often cannot stay up extremely late. Anyway, this fact will be more relevant in a second. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SHDaHadBBfI/AAAAAAAAAA4/2jHin66vbsQ/s200/n17103855_35688135_1642.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219911789017368050" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this morning, I flip on the teley and see that the Men's Finals of Wimbeldon is just starting. Aaron &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;loves&lt;/span&gt; tennis and &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;adores&lt;/span&gt; Wimbeldon even more. I think for a second about texting him, and then decide to just call him. Here is the conversation:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(The phone rings several times, I am sort of worried that he is a)not there or b)not waking up. Have I mentioned Aaron is &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; a morning person and he loves me anyway?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A: (&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;alert and focused)&lt;/span&gt; Hello?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;S: (&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I realize I woke him up, sweet sounding voice ensues)&lt;/span&gt; Good morning, Baby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A: (&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the sleep catches up when he realizes I am not in any danger, just awake) &lt;/span&gt;Oh, hey.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;S: So I just turned on the tv and saw that Wimbeldon was on. And I thought I'd call you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A:(&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;even more sleeply sounding&lt;/span&gt;) oh, yea. I see. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;S: I was going to text you, but I figured I couldn't spell Wimbeldon without looking it up. And I just turned it on and thought of you. I thought you might like it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A: That's why I love you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;S: Yeah? Because I thought of you or because I can't spell?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A: Both. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;S: Well, I love you too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A: good. Um, Sarah. I think I am going to go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;S: Okay. (&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He was quite nice to talk with me when no one else is up, and he typically wouldn't be up at 7 am anyway) &lt;/span&gt;Well, I love you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A: I love you too. Talk to you later?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;S: Yeah. Okay, go back to sleep. Love you. Bye!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(The phone hangs up)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So Aaron puts up with me calling to tell him about Wimbeldon and I often stay up late to hang out with Aaron--I don't stay up late in NYC b/c I don't have anyone to force me to stay awake. When midnight rolls around, I am toast. But anyway, I love him and am &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so &lt;/span&gt;happy he proposed. I could think of no one else to spend my life with. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sigh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am seeing everyone on Friday--I will see Aaron on Thursday--to celebrate Laura's wedding!! Yea!  If you remember other posts, some weddings make me a little sick. Others like Laura and Kevin's makes me happy. You would have to know Laura and her drunken exercises to understand. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, that is all. I will proceed to work stuff now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-611158102857372686?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/611158102857372686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=611158102857372686' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/611158102857372686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/611158102857372686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/07/engagement.html' title='Engagement'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SHDaHadBBfI/AAAAAAAAAA4/2jHin66vbsQ/s72-c/n17103855_35688135_1642.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-6998300781168836341</id><published>2008-05-13T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T20:13:20.025-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mobile Revolution</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.glynn.k12.ga.us/BHS/academics/junior/hunt/johnathonh26222/Sit-ins_copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.glynn.k12.ga.us/BHS/academics/junior/hunt/johnathonh26222/Sit-ins_copy.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I just finished watching &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.vh1.com/press/series/roc_docs.jhtml"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;VH1's Rock Doc's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; documentary series about the Sexual Revolution in America.  And it made me think about what people are claiming about our mobile revolutions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;It seems that Americans just loving thinking up new, ground breaking ideas that change the world: religion, government, race (sort of but not really), sex, and now communication. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Since I just finished reading &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Oil-California-Fiction-Upton-Sinclair/dp/0520207270"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Oil! by Upton Sinclair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;; I feel like that the sexual revolution was a mockery of the socialist/communist revolution that flourished in California. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;And thus, is the mobile revolution just a shell of what fighting for control in your life should be. But I cannot imagine any sit-ins for mobile phones...but I guess that was what the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/iphone/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;iPhone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; wait lines were. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-6998300781168836341?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/6998300781168836341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=6998300781168836341' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6998300781168836341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6998300781168836341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/05/mobile-revolution.html' title='Mobile Revolution'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-5098713977816349451</id><published>2008-05-12T20:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T16:55:45.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pet Names</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/staticfiles/NGS/Shared/StaticFiles/animals/images/primary/black-spider-monkey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/staticfiles/NGS/Shared/StaticFiles/animals/images/primary/black-spider-monkey.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;Right now, I wish I had a pet name. Something cute and cuddly, like "kitten" or "bunny" or even &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://abc.go.com/primetime/bachelor/index?pn=index"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;"monkey."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;I just finished watching &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://abc.go.com/primetime/bachelor/index?pn=index"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;The Bachelor: London Calling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt; Season Finale--which I do not normally watch but it sucked me in like any other season finale where a sexy specimen (undetermined whether they are there for 'love' or publicity) gets selected from a cattle call of similar qualified applicants. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;And the guy called his love, "monkey," with that British accent--in Texas it would be called a twang. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;Why cannot bf have a pet name for me? I wonder, as I imagine him calling me his monkey or kitten or bunny. But I remember, he already has a pet name for me: the Solomonster.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;Not cute. Not cuddly. But was I ever any of those things?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;Nope. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-5098713977816349451?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/5098713977816349451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=5098713977816349451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/5098713977816349451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/5098713977816349451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/05/pet-names.html' title='Pet Names'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-6013335778993521163</id><published>2008-05-10T08:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T08:39:33.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gearing Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.tarad.com/30off/img-lib/spd_20070919174045_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.tarad.com/30off/img-lib/spd_20070919174045_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I should be doing instead of blogging:&lt;div&gt;-getting a storage unit to put all my college-quality furniture in for the summer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-reserving a truck to move it all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-fixing my phone so I can use my bluetooth headset&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-cleaning my smelly house&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I am not. I am reading blogs and getting into &lt;a href="http://www.stylehive.com/"&gt;StyleHive&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/8401545073575626245-6013335778993521163?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/6013335778993521163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=6013335778993521163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6013335778993521163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6013335778993521163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/05/gearing-up.html' title='Gearing Up'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-2994995830098938945</id><published>2008-04-30T18:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T18:46:21.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>drunk</title><content type='html'>I blame Sally.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I totally blame Sally for being tipsy on a wednesday night. She said she needed a drink, and I said okay. And I drink sometimes too fast. But that is not the issue. The thing is that I will not be teaching forever. And I am watching American Idol do some promo for hybrids. lame.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&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/8401545073575626245-2994995830098938945?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/2994995830098938945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=2994995830098938945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/2994995830098938945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/2994995830098938945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/04/drunk.html' title='drunk'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-4341908712894101114</id><published>2008-04-19T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T09:21:47.684-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bridal Showers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.bestbridalshowergames.com/images/box-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.bestbridalshowergames.com/images/box-lg.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have entered into adulthood and am attending a close friend's bridal shower today. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sigh.&lt;/span&gt; I never thought this day would come and it arrives with trepidation. The clan I claim is no longer happy-go-lucky sorority sisters; but alack, blushing brides longing for white weddings. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What does this mean for me? Well, peer pressure aside, it means that weddings and engagements now constitute the conversation du jour among friends. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She is engaged? Oh, I am so happy for her! &lt;/span&gt;or &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;OH MY GOD! SHE is engaged?! She is such I whore. I have hated her since that one time she called me fat! &lt;/span&gt;Such are the musings of sisters.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, today, with my roommate throwing a shower at her mother's house, I will attend my first real sorority shower. I will help serve fancy punch, participate in traditional games, and gossip about who is now fat, who is dating whom, and when is she going to get engaged. I must admit, I am often the subject of the last topic and I try at every turn to shirk off this question. I do not plan to become wed any time soon. But if my boyfriend--of four years--asks....well, who knows what I might say. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-4341908712894101114?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/4341908712894101114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=4341908712894101114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/4341908712894101114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/4341908712894101114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/04/bridal-showers.html' title='Bridal Showers'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-1969958099463040498</id><published>2008-04-17T18:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T19:25:00.037-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Videos in the Classroom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.850thebuzz.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2006/05/WestSideStory.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.850thebuzz.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2006/05/WestSideStory.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;All throughout high school--even middle school--all I ever wished for was to watch a video in class. Sometimes I was disappointed with the results, but mostly I found whatever we watched was interesting. &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;There was a point in high school where the only two videos shown during sub-days were &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0126029/"&gt;Shrek&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0210945/"&gt;Remember the Titans&lt;/a&gt;. I would inwardly moan every time the sub would pull out one of those videos. The historical videos were my favorite--that is the inner nerd. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;So, to buck the sub has the video trend, I am showing a vocab &lt;a href="http://www.quackmedia.com/Q/?q=video/EDU_eng"&gt;Quack &lt;/a&gt;video tomorrow! It is a combo of old movies and funky sat words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Also, I am looking forward to leaving &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0055614/"&gt;West Side Story&lt;/a&gt; for my students to watch. The thought of the Sharks and Jets snapping and pirouetting across the sound stage impersonating NYC sends chills up mine spine. Equally, the thought of my students enduring such a movie makes me smile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I hope they enjoy. &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/8401545073575626245-1969958099463040498?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/1969958099463040498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=1969958099463040498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/1969958099463040498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/1969958099463040498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/04/videos-in-classroom.html' title='Videos in the Classroom'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-4975326291172522877</id><published>2008-04-05T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T10:42:06.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NYC</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bss.sfsu.edu/cherny/images/nyc-steiglitz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://bss.sfsu.edu/cherny/images/nyc-steiglitz.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like all neophyte professionals, The draw of NYC was too great for me to resist. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the summer, I plan on living in NYC and working. Who knows what will happen. I am not feeling entirely creative right now, so that is really it.&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/8401545073575626245-4975326291172522877?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/4975326291172522877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=4975326291172522877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/4975326291172522877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/4975326291172522877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/04/nyc.html' title='NYC'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-5442243159146168971</id><published>2008-04-01T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T18:26:11.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Books to Inspire</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.frenchtowner.com/m/eat-pray-love.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.frenchtowner.com/m/eat-pray-love.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some books inspire you, others just provide a good laugh or thrill.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, so most contain a plot driven train-of-thought in order to be viewed as "marketable."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Introducing: &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Eat-Pray-Love-Everything-Indonesia/dp/0143038419/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/002-5263992-6807231?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1207099215&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;"Eat, Pray, Love."&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mantra after reading the book--in total awkward young adult fashion: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;God&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Give me a direction.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Show me where to live.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Show me what to do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Show me my students' strengths.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Teach me to appreciate my students' strengths. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you are looking for an inspirational/love story/self-help book all in one interesting cover, please pick this up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-5442243159146168971?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/5442243159146168971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=5442243159146168971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/5442243159146168971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/5442243159146168971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/04/books-to-inspire.html' title='Books to Inspire'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-3649822580619192667</id><published>2008-03-29T07:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T07:25:30.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brunching</title><content type='html'>As I grow-up--I am using this term loosely because I feel we never grow-up, sigh--I notice myself engaging in simple activities that define adulthood. Since I am in such a tumultuous state of development, I seek out such activities constantly. One such activity I feel like is: Brunching with other like-age people.&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those unaware of the word, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brunch"&gt;Brunch&lt;/a&gt; is the meal taken between breakfast and lunch. Often used for the day after a wedding, Easter, or family get together; Brunch is the fourth meal, sorry Taco Bell, that is often overlooked. In some respects, Brunch takes the place of two meals combined and narrows your eating times from three to two. Often people will say after eating brunch, "Oh, I am so full! I just ate brunch and I am not hungry for lunch!" and that person will go until 5 or so before eating again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What Brunch says about you:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;-You are a person who does not want to get up before 10:30 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;-Yet you still wish to engage in social sport&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;-You have a busy/engaged evening and must find other times to engage with people &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The amazing thing about brunch: you are welcome to drink before noon. While this is mostly &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mimosa_(cocktail)"&gt;mimosas&lt;/a&gt;, any light alcoholic beverage is accepted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am proud to say, this Sunday, I am forgoing church(I haven't skipped in a while) and will be Brunching with friends at &lt;a href="http://www.cafenovaokc.com/"&gt;Cafe Nova's&lt;/a&gt;. You are welcome to come, but just let me know ahead of time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-3649822580619192667?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/3649822580619192667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=3649822580619192667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/3649822580619192667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/3649822580619192667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/03/brunching.html' title='Brunching'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-6956130326154867203</id><published>2008-03-26T18:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T18:59:42.292-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Purpose Statement</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.winton.nildram.co.uk/Monica/images/Monica%20Local%20Govt%20Chron.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.winton.nildram.co.uk/Monica/images/Monica%20Local%20Govt%20Chron.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is my purpose statement:&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To bring you into my tumultuous life to experience the changes a young woman makes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thus, here is my latest episode:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How do you quit your first job? Easy. You write a polite letter to your boss/principal explaining that you will not be joining the faculty for the next academic year. The hard part is--actually talking to him and listening to how he takes it. Not to get too gory, but he took it pretty well and said he wanted to help me find my next job. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now the hard part--what do I do now? I guess I need to look on &lt;a href="http://www.monster.com/"&gt;Monster.com&lt;/a&gt; or read the newspaper. Maybe I need to check out these &lt;a href="http://www.forbes.com/2007/06/21/cities-jobs-young-forbeslife-cx_mw_0621realestate.html"&gt;cities&lt;/a&gt; if I want to get out of the big OK. Who knows! Any suggestions?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-6956130326154867203?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/6956130326154867203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=6956130326154867203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6956130326154867203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6956130326154867203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/03/purpose-statement.html' title='Purpose Statement'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-6494720655980130574</id><published>2008-03-15T16:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T19:33:08.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Snowshoeing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://instep.typepad.com/metro_u15_g/images/snowshoe_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://instep.typepad.com/metro_u15_g/images/snowshoe_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a Native American or an old-school European. Our guide was Sigi--pronounced Cig-EE--a slight woman whose accent betrayed her German ex-pat status. Her dog--Silver--is the fittest black lab I have ever seen. Not the tubby, Texas versions whom I am accustomed to; but Silver is a sleek creature who bounded through the snow with more exuberance that my family's Jack Russel Gracie. &lt;div&gt;We took the steep way up, due to Mamma's bum knee--she is getting it fixed this coming Friday. I rarely noticed the scenery. I was busy panting, deep-breathing as the altitude deprived my lungs of their typical air density. Sigi was going slow, but I struggled to keep up. This makes me believe that everyone should stop working and move to a mountain town. At said mountain town, they should then walk over six miles a day and eat no meat. But I believe that is called being a hippie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the way down, we took the slow route. The view was amazing. The snow was falling. I felt exhausted but happy. I felt better when I noticed the dog was tired too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Overall, I would recommend snowshoeing to anyone. The combo of difficult-I-will-never-make-it-up-this-God-forsaken-Mountain with easy-this-is-so-nice was perfect.&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/8401545073575626245-6494720655980130574?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/6494720655980130574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=6494720655980130574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6494720655980130574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6494720655980130574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/03/snowshoeing.html' title='Snowshoeing'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-5041540983891882895</id><published>2008-03-15T08:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T09:32:28.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arrival</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I have nothing to say but this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The kitchen sink is stopped up and Mamma is trying desperately to unstop it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Spring Break is wonderful. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love the mountains.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The dishwasher empties into the garbage disposal.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Altitude sickness is no laughing matter. You have to be proactive in your well-being.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Today, is not a creative post.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I wish I could take a picture on my cell phone and upload it here. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is about it. &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/8401545073575626245-5041540983891882895?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/5041540983891882895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=5041540983891882895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/5041540983891882895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/5041540983891882895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/03/arrival.html' title='Arrival'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-6545471961714636134</id><published>2008-03-09T12:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T12:42:08.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A False Spring</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://z.about.com/d/classiclit/1/G/0/p/2/9780684824994_moveable_feast.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://z.about.com/d/classiclit/1/G/0/p/2/9780684824994_moveable_feast.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is an accurate description to spring where I live. Mother Nature likes to toy with humanity's inner clock by raising and dropping temperatures at her whim. Add Daylight Savings to this and you get one messed up population.&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Spring Break is in one week. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My plans are to go skiing, look posh, get some sleep, and blog. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope that this title does not reflect E. Hemingway's short story and end in broken relationships. Spring is the time of romance and rekindling. Or, if it is a false one, a time of false romance. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-6545471961714636134?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/6545471961714636134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=6545471961714636134' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6545471961714636134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6545471961714636134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/03/false-spring.html' title='A False Spring'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-6036974364395511523</id><published>2008-03-08T08:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T20:04:25.169-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kowabunga</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/R9LBv0v-TeI/AAAAAAAAAAg/3p7_iurwhC4/s1600-h/Photo+97.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/R9LBv0v-TeI/AAAAAAAAAAg/3p7_iurwhC4/s200/Photo+97.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175411949159992802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A term used by a friend last night at Margarita Fridays--a weekly meeting of friends at my local mexican bar--and it brought back memories of teenage mutant ninga turtles. Yet, so appropriate to how I feel after surfing through numerous blogs gleaming fresh news. &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is what I have learned this morning sipping earl grey tea from my sorority bid day mug:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/"&gt;Stuff White People Like&lt;/a&gt; is another site I have discovered from reading the fabity-fab-fab New York Times blog &lt;a href="http://themedium.blogs.nytimes.com/"&gt;The Medium&lt;/a&gt;. It is comical and SO TRUE! Even though it could be further narrowed as: Stuff Upper-Middle-Class to Upper-Class White People Like. In America, White means well-off? I guess. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Auction. I had no clue that the FCC was auction off the air waves! I feel like I should have known if the air space above me. Isn't that a health hazard or something? &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://perezhilton.com/2008-03-07-finally-2"&gt;Brit Brit has a stalker&lt;/a&gt;. I am not surprised at all. Crazy/Once-Crazy People attract other Crazies! &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Linguistics. Everyone knows that colonialism launched the English language as the premier internet lingo. But sheer force by numbers--2/3 of the internet community doesn't speak English--asian languages are challenging the Crown's claim! Presenting--Engrish. A crazed English slang that appear to be from an illiterate native speaker but is actually from an educated Japanese person. This new lingo is popping up every where, but mainly on &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com"&gt;YouTube&lt;/a&gt;. This pigeon English has the roman letters of English but the writers' often misspelled words and eastern ideas mutate English into Engrish. Is Engrish the bridge between the colonial world and the technological world?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-6036974364395511523?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/6036974364395511523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=6036974364395511523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6036974364395511523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/6036974364395511523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/03/kowabunga.html' title='Kowabunga'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/R9LBv0v-TeI/AAAAAAAAAAg/3p7_iurwhC4/s72-c/Photo+97.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-3932026337398818838</id><published>2008-03-06T17:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T14:54:47.441-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='YouTube'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='To Kill A Mockingbird'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I Hate Young People'/><title type='text'>Video</title><content type='html'>I am sure my generation will kill me--but I am not a fan of &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/"&gt;YouTube&lt;/a&gt;. It has SO many amatuer vids and I would never be able to find what I am looking for. Okay, I am bitching, but the only great thing about YouTube is the pirated t.v. shows and music videos. I never sit down and think, "I'm going to watch YouTube." I have too many better things to do. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What I do heart is &lt;a href="http://www.ihateyoungpeople.com/"&gt;I Hate Young People.&lt;/a&gt; I found this site from &lt;a href="http://themedium.blogs.nytimes.com/"&gt;The Medium&lt;/a&gt; which is another blog I heart. IHYP documents New Yorkers' views on several different topics. I like the videos because they are artful AND feel professional. They cull the crap and produce just the good stuff. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thinking about showing &lt;a href="http://link.brightcove.com/services/link/bcpid900837105/bclid1016735613/bctid1178178663"&gt;"N-word" &lt;/a&gt;if I teach &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;To Kill A Mockingbird&lt;/span&gt; next year. I feel like it would be a great discussions starter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Update: I've changed my attitude towards YouTube. While I still do not think, I'm going to sit and watch YouTube, I think it plays a very valuable role. &lt;/span&gt;&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/8401545073575626245-3932026337398818838?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/3932026337398818838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=3932026337398818838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/3932026337398818838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/3932026337398818838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/03/video.html' title='Video'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-106586167670076094</id><published>2008-03-05T17:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T17:32:01.327-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Metamorphsis</title><content type='html'>So--I am trying to find my blogging voice. And I know that no one is really reading this right now, so I am enjoying the time to practice. I feel like I am struggling to: find interesting topics and keeping it short and sweet and witty.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I am feeling like Gregor in Frank Kafka's &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Metamorphis, &lt;/span&gt;which is an awkward place to be in.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are my three things I would like to talk about:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. The Wire &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I heart &lt;a href="http://www.hbo.com/thewire/"&gt;this show&lt;/a&gt;! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The writing is fabity-fab-fab and the actors are so believable! I have watched the entire first season and &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cannot &lt;/span&gt;to see the second season. I need to have my parents send it to me when we meet in &lt;a href="http://www.parkcityinfo.com/"&gt;Park City&lt;/a&gt; for Spring Break.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Name of My Blog&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The name of my blog has changed three or four times and I am having trouble picking the right name. Currently, I like Pugnacious but it might change to Pugnacious Living, Pugnacious Life, or just plain Metamorphsis. But I am stuck with this web address of teachingresidencyyear.blogspot.com. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.  The Circus&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night I dreamt I was in the circus. It was odd, but vaguely familiar. Today at school, the kids were going crazy and I wish I had a bull whip with me. It seriously was a three-ring circus.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. My cell phone (I know I said three)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am getting to a point where I really want a data package to look up websites on my phone. I cannot access half the stuff I want to online at school and I need to check-up on my shit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/8401545073575626245-106586167670076094?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/106586167670076094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=106586167670076094' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/106586167670076094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/106586167670076094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/03/metamorphsis.html' title='The Metamorphsis'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-8593531523686549477</id><published>2008-03-04T18:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T18:23:10.821-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><title type='text'>Domestic Goddess</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.humorinthenews.com/cyd/gallery/domestic/images/cooking_3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.humorinthenews.com/cyd/gallery/domestic/images/cooking_3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tonight--I am an official domestic goddess. Not only did I make a &lt;a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/food/recipes/recipe/0,,FOOD_9936_127,00.html"&gt;pot roast&lt;/a&gt; but I also baked chocolate-chip cookies. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, maybe I didn't cook the pot roast tonight, but it was in the &lt;a href="http://www.crock-pot.com/"&gt;crock-pot&lt;/a&gt; all day. I just threw in the roast, lots of garlic, onions, carrots, and potatoes. But that is cooking right? I think so. And so does my boyfriend. If only he would do the dishes. I hate doing the dishes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chocolate-chip cookies. Is the only thing that will get my students' attention. "If you turn in your homework, you will get a cookie." And it works! They are like monkeys, or hyper little dogs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I make cookies. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8401545073575626245-8593531523686549477?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/8593531523686549477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=8593531523686549477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/8593531523686549477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/8593531523686549477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/03/domestic-goddess.html' title='Domestic Goddess'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-5432076035506600456</id><published>2008-03-02T16:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T17:20:29.853-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grading</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://italianfoodlovers.academiabarilla.com/uploads/food-network.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://italianfoodlovers.academiabarilla.com/uploads/food-network.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Grading over the weekend is true dedication to teaching. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before I start, I pick the channel--either marathon or some hour-long program. Right now, I am watching Food Network. And then I start the torture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes, the television fails to entertain me. Feeling fancy? I suggest perching yourself in a chic Starbucks. Time crunch? A boring desk in your room will work. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could always put it off, but I won't. I have this need to start fresh every week. So, Sunday night will find me with a stack of papers, a highlighter, and the television on.&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/8401545073575626245-5432076035506600456?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/5432076035506600456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=5432076035506600456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/5432076035506600456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/5432076035506600456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/03/grading.html' title='Grading'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8401545073575626245.post-2188692551123672757</id><published>2008-02-22T19:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T19:49:15.241-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Genesis</title><content type='html'>This is my first year teaching, ever.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I teach freshmen--a challenge to say the least.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All day, everyday, I watch awkward youth parade around the halls attempting to discover themselves. This blog will be a place to discuss the oddities and tribulations of teaching. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please feel free to comment and offer any suggestions to a wobbly-legged residency year teacher. &lt;br /&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/8401545073575626245-2188692551123672757?l=pugnaciousme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/feeds/2188692551123672757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8401545073575626245&amp;postID=2188692551123672757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/2188692551123672757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8401545073575626245/posts/default/2188692551123672757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pugnaciousme.blogspot.com/2008/02/gensis.html' title='The Genesis'/><author><name>Sarah Solomon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13388211684507718990</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFu8jtuynfA/SY37ybS94wI/AAAAAAAAADI/UTv9QODGiA0/S220/IMG_0567.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
